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Abstrak Patriarkiadalah salah satumasalahbesar bagisetiapwanita di dunia, masalah iniakhirnyadiwakilidengankarya sastra, dansalah satunya adalahAtiqRahimiBatuKesabaran.Terdapat Perempuan, sebagai karakter utamadiceritakandengan semuakesedihan, menikahdengan dipaksa, menikahdengan foto, sampai diaharus membuathamil dengantanpajalan dandia memilikibayi daripria laindia tidak pernahtahu. Berdasarkanfakta-fakta, ini memberikan dua pertanyaanutama sebagairespondarimasalah, adalah(1) GambaranbelenggupatriarkimelaluisuaradiamPerempuandiAtiqRahimiBatuKesabaran?(2) DampaksuaradiamPerempuandiAtiqRahimi, BatuKesabaran?Untuk mengatasi hal itudengan analisis, membutuhkanmetode yangmembaca, mengumpulkan data, dan interpretasi, teknik yang digunakanadalahinterpretasi, dan pendekatanmimesis. Sebagaihasil dariini, itu akanmenemukan sesuatu, suaradiamPerempuan, dan initerjadidi Afghanistan, oleh karena itu,dapat dikatakanbahwa sistempatriarkibisa mengambilhak-hak perempuan, dan apahal-hal yangdapat memberikanPerempuanadalahsuaradiam,suarayang dapat menjadigerakan feminisuntuk setiapsimpatiuntuknya. Ini mewakili, untukberkatadalam bisikanyang sangathalus yangmasih adaketimpanganyang disebabkan olehpatriarki, danWanitatidak dapatberbuat apa-apa. Kata Kunci: Patriarki, perempuan, suaradiam, danfeminisme. Abstract Patriarchy is one of the great problem for every women in the world, this problem finally is represented to a literary work, and one of it is AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone. There, the Woman, as the main character is told with all sorrow, marrying by being forced, marrying with a photo, until she has to make pregnant with regardless the way and she has baby from another guy she never knows. Based on the facts, it delivers two main questions as the response of problems, they are (1) Depiction of patriarchy's handcuffthrough the Woman's Silent Voicein AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone? (2) The impact ofthe Woman's Silent Voice in AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone? To solve it by analysis, it requires a method that is reading, collecting data, and interpretation, the used technique is interpretation, and the approach is mimesis. As the result of this, it will find something, the silent voice of the Woman, and this is happen in Afghanistan, therefore, it can be said that patriarchy system can grab the rights of women, and what things that the Woman can deliver is the silent voice, the voice that can be a feminist movement for every sympathy to it. It represents, it says in very smooth whispers that there are still inequality caused by patriarchy, and the Woman cannot do anything. Keywords: Patriarchy, women, silent voice, and feminism. INTRODUCTION Human lives in the world are like corrosion on the ply of metal in the process of abrasion. What the core of this analogy is the way human wear their brain shell to think and find the solution of every problem they face to. Human are divided in to two genders normally, they are men and women. Men, a creature whose penis sticks strongly with dignity and power to dig every hole in front of it. Women, a creature whose vagina decorates beautifully with softness and warmness for everything that prepares for digging it. Based on the differences of the two, the conflicts arise. It starts when women begin realizing that what they think is their right, is grabbed by the creature, called men. In addition, this thought probably can be supposed as the basic thought of feminism movement. Before going further to the meant feminism, it is important to see what feminism fights to, and it is patriarchy system. Patriarchy system is a system that has been rooted in society generally. Erich From asserts that Patriarchy system is where men is fated to dictate/control women, and it rules to all part in the world. (Fromm, 2002: 177). To add it, to make the establishment of this system of men, chronologically there are some experts that give distance between men and women where men are supposed to be the better one. Classically, women are inequality creature, and it is added by Aristotle who views women as an imperfectness of nature (Beauvoir, 2003:ix). Francis Bacon comments that the more negative assertion that women are the jail of men because women give bad effect or influence to men (Arivia, 2002:40). Kant even says that women does not have any ability to use their cognitive ability therefore women should not be allowed to deliver what they think (Arivia, 2002:40). While, St. Thomas supposes women as "imperfect men", women are creature who are created not deliberately, and it is proven by the symbolic story where Eve is portrayed by Bossuet as a creature who is made of the "Adam's Rib" (Beauvoir, 2003:xi). According to Cixous, the term of men and women pinpoints to the difference of the two where the first term must posit the higher or better meaning, and it is placed by men. Therefore, men are self and women are the Liyan. Women live in men's world, therefore women are considered as the Liyan for men. (Tong, 2009: 292). Based on those facts, society finally construct a system where men dominate the whole contents of social life. J. Douglas (1976: 34) adds that many feminists use the term patriarchy as a generic term for male privilege, supremacy, and domination, referring to their current as well as past forms. The attraction of this usage is readily apparent: first, its rhetorical punch and strongly pejorative connotations; second, its reminder of the tenacity and continuity of male domination. Despite earth-shaking social changes, not the least of which are the women's Movements of the nineteenth and twentieth century, male power remains. Therefore, what the things that can be inferred into these facts are the problems between men and women. Feminism moves to throw everything that involves in men's domination because they dictate women, women seem to live in a coop. It means that what women fight is the system of men. In general, feminism is the theory of women's liberation since the intrinsic in all its approaches is the belief that women suffer injustice because of women's sex (Humm, 1989: 74). From the inequality that exists between both gender, women want to search equality in the society, they start to speak up their voices in the publicarena. Women themselves must articulate who they are and what role they play in the society. Most importantly, they must reject the patriarchal assumption that women are inferior to men. This started the feminist movement. It was started by the reality that male-female relations is a form of power structure in which men dominate women (Thebaud, 1994: 290). From this starting point the feminist believe that existing inequalities between dominant and marginalized groups can and should be removed. In the practive the feminist scholars attempt to examine beliefs and practices from the viewpoint of the "other", in this case women, treating them as subjects, not merely objects. Based on those views, it can be said that feminism simply is a thought that focuses on the equality between men and women, especially to talk about the rights of women. Therefore, what things that can be put into the main topic of this, is the all things relates to the inequality between men and women where men are supposed to be the superiority ones. Feminism itself is part of cultural studies in literature, which arises since women feel discredited and being treated unequal to men as human. Yet, what is not acceptable is the differentiation in position, that men are superior to women. That awareness prompts women to rise up and fight for their rights. Feminism deals with freedom, appreciation, and fair treatment for women. It is not women's disability to sit equal with men, but the systems in their social life discourage women to gain self-assertion to actualize themselves as well as men. Meanwhile, women want to grow as human beings who have equal role and opportunity in their own life and society. In the West and East alike, feminists were up against home-grown patriarchalist opponents who used sundry means to denigrate feminism and its supporters. In the West, detractors portrayed feminists as man-haters. In the East, enemies branded feminists as agents of cultural subversion and, ironically in so doing 'colluded' with westerners in declaring feminism western. (Kynsilehto, 2008: 26). Therefore, what can be integrated from this Islam feminism understanding is the way Islam see the equality between men and women, from the agents of truth about the equality between men and women, not creating women to hate men just to beg an equality as what west feminism says to. It is clear to see that this problem finally inspires some authors to write it down in beautiful work, and one of it is AtiqRahimi with his novel entitled The Patience Stone. The main thing that is hidden in AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone is the way feminism is shown up. This novel, especially the main character, the woman, erodes the feeling of the readers to give sympathy and tears on what has happened to the woman. The woman cannot fight to the system of men he faces on, but she just can deliver it through a telling to her comate husband, which is not changing anything to her fair life. Specifically, in Atiq Rahimi's The Patience Stone, there is told a woman sits in front of his comate husband. She tells everything she never confesses before because of some reasons. She is the wife of a soldier who is lying unconscious with a bullet in his neck, and she calls her husband withThe Patience Stone or "Sang-e Saboor," it is a mythical stone accords to Persian folklore that absorbs the pain of those who confide in it, until it eventually explodes. When the novel opens, the man has been comatose for over two weeks, and shows no signs of recovery. Frustration and despair on the woman's part gradually turns to angry rebellion and, uncertain whether or not he can hear her words, she becomes ever more talkative and outgoing as she gathers over their ten-year marriage. The thing that is important to know is that the couple didn't meet before their wedding, nor even during it, since he was away fighting. Instead a ceremony was performed between the teen bride (the Woman) and a photograph, after which she spent three years as a married virgin. She is not allowed to be out of house of seeing friends and family. When the Husband returns, she discovers that she is married to a violent, because the Husband brutally detaches sex at the first sex time. It can be seen that the woman as main character reflects "handcuff" of women life against patriarchy in the social life of the novel. The Women uses her inability to comprehend and talk back to tell him things that she will not dare to say otherwise. With his disability she has been left to feed herself, her two children and continue buying medicine to keep her husband alive. The only job available for an Afghan woman in her desperate situation it seems is prostitution. It is an interested topic to explore because AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone is part of a Persian myth about a stone that has this phenomenal strength to listen to stories of suffering and sorrow. What sorrow that is delivered is from the heart voice of a woman that lives in the unfair world. The unfair world is caused by the inequality. Thus, to respond it, the readers must have attention to give sympathy to the woman indirectly, and to call this feeling, it is not too naïve when it said as the feminist movement that calls everyone in talking the equality women should have. To classify it, this thought belongs to first wave, where women have voice to utter although it is not a fight directly. Then, the voice that is not changing anything significantly to what the Woman faces, is the silent voice. Silent voice is the voice that is not heard, listened, and sensed. However, this voice exists, and the existence gnaws sympathy to see how unequal the social system the Woman faces, the sympathy that dribbles to feminism thought indirectly to get the equal rights. Based on the reasons above, this thesis then conveys analysis on the life and some aspect of main characters thorough feminism approach accords to patriarchy concepts and understanding in AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone. Finally, the planned title can be written as The Woman's Silent Voice toward Patriarchy's Handcuff Reflected in AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience. For more additional support that this thesis uses credible object, it is important to see that AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone is the winner of Prix Goncourt Prize in 2008. Therefore, this thesis hopefully can be a great product and be great donation of literary critics and analysis. Indeed, the decision to select AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone rather than the other works of him is caused by the main topic of the work. AtiqRahimi's The Patience Stone delivers more complex problem between men and women, that finally grabs the problem of Patriarchy and Feminism, while the feminism that is used is based on the glasses of Islam because the setting is in Afghan. In AtiqRahimi'sEarth and Ashes is told about the patriotic father that struggle with his blind son during the Russia invasion in Afghanistan, while in AtiqRahimi'sA Thousands Room of Dream and Fear delivers a student who exiles form his life because he is chased, he loves someone saves him. Based on the two reference, AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone becomes the best one to analyze accords to men and women problem culturally. RESEARCH METHOD This study is taking one of the Atiq Rahimi's stories entitled The Patience Stone as the primary source. In case of analyzing this story, library research is used in order to find some theories, which are relevant to the topic. Finally, Mimesis approach will be used in analyzing this story because the topic that will be discussed about the main character's silent voice as a woman against patriarchy in her social life as the universal truth. In collecting data, this research focuses on analysis and citations. The first step is reading novel. In this step, novel becomes the object of the research. The novel is entitled The Patience Stone, written by Atiq Rahimi. This is to reach the understanding all contents completely with all possibilities both intrinsically and extrinsically. The second is inventorying data. This step is collecting data through noting the quotations related to the statement of the problems and objectives of the study, it is including in words, sentences, and discourse that can represent patriarchy and feminism in Atiq Rahimi's The Patience Stone. The third is classification data. This step to classify the data based on the statement of the problems including the portrayal patriarchy and the way the Woman posits herself against it. The fourth is tabling the data. It is to simplify reading the data and classify data that is used in the analysis for the readers. Those collected data are continuosly intrepreted to react the statement of the problems. The handling of a technique is a duty to do, it is to keep the analysis not jumping out of the limitation in order to solve the statement of the problems. Furthermore, it is significant to be on familiar terms with the data that it is from the novel entitled The Patience Stone, written in 136 pages plus 4 pages of brief introduction by KhaledHossaeni. It is written by AtiqRahimi with original title of SynguéSabour. Pierre de patience, published with ISBN: 9780701184102, and by Chatto&Windus. It is addressed at Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, in London at 7wiv 25a. The book design is created Chatto and Windus group and translated by Polly McLean. On the dark cover, there is laid a stamp of Goncourt Winner 2008. CULTURAL APPROACH The term culture is a description of a particular way of life, which expresses certain meanings and values not only in art and learning but also in institutions and ordinary behavior (Frow, 1996: 8). Frow also states that culture is the way of life and is the meanings and values in that way of life. Therefore, basically a cultural approach is a way to think about a literary text based on the ideas or customs of certain society in which the text is made. According to Stanley Fish, J. Hillis, and Michael Foucault, language helps create what we call objective reality, thus reality is a social construct since it is created from language which is a product of customs produced by certain society. (Bressler, 1999: 264) Each society or culture contains in itself a dominant cultural group which determines that culture's ideology, its dominant values it sense of right and wrong, and its sense of personal self worth. (Bressler, 1999: 264) Culrural approach is divided into some theories. Those are: Marxism, post colonialism, new historicism, and feminism (Bressler, 1999: 178). As stated above, cultural approach investigates the domination and the dominated groups. Therefore, this approach will be used to analyze Atiq Rahimi's The Patience Stone and since the dominated group in this novel is women, the theory of feminism will be used for further analysis. Before going deeper to the feminism, it is important to see that feminism that will be used is the feminism from the glasses of Islam. In the West and East alike, feminists were up against home-grown patriarchalist opponents who used sundry means to denigrate feminism and its supporters. In the West, detractors portrayed feminists as man-haters. In the East, enemies branded feminists as agents of cultural subversion and, ironically in so doing 'colluded' with westerners in declaring feminism western. (Kynsilehto, 2008: 26). Therefore, what can be integrated from this Islam feminism understanding is the way Islam see the equality between men and women, from the agents of truth about the equality between men and women, not creating women to hate men just to beg an equality as what west feminism says to. This thought is also influence to the way of the culture move by times, Eastern as universal truth sees, is culturally have features of moral, politeness, differences, and those all shape a unity of eastern culture that is very cultural. While, in Western, thought, rationality, and will or dreams becomes the subjects that move them to be better, and it shapes their mind and finally becomes the culture of west, therefore, the freedom of women seems to be radical rather that to grab the equality. PATRIARCHY Patriarchy system is a system that has been rooted in society generally. Erich From asserts that Patriarchy system is where men is fated to dictate/control women, and it rules to all part in the world. (Fromm, 2002: 177). Engels gives different perspective that patriarchy system is begun when human have already understood about privacy owning, and it marks the birth of system of class. (Budiman, 1981: 21). What Engels means, must reflect to the birth of system of class of men and women. To add it, to make the establishment of this system of men, chronologically there are some experts that give distance between men and women where men are supposed to be the better one.Classically, women are inequality creature, and it is added by Aristotle who views women as an imperfectness of nature (Beauvoir, 2003:ix). Francis Bacon comments that the more negative assertion that women are the jail of men because women give bad effect or influence to men (Arivia, 2002:40). Kant even says that women does not have any ability to use their cognitive ability therefore women should not be allowed to deliver what they think (Arivia, 2002:40). While, St. Thomas supposes women as "imperfect men", women are creature who are created not deliberately, and it is proven by the symbolic story where Eve is portrayed by Bossuet as a creature who is made of the "Adam's Rib" (Beauvoir, 2003:xi). According to Cixous, the term of men and women pinpoints to the difference of the two where the first term must posit the higher or better meaning, and it is placed by men. Therefore, men are self and women are the Liyan. Women live in men's world, therefore women are considered as the Liyan for men. (Tong, 2009:292). Based on those facts, society finally construct a system where men dominate the whole contents of social life. J. Douglas (1976: 34) adds that many feminists use the term patriarchy as a generic term for male privilege, supremacy, and domination, referring to their current as well as past forms. The attraction of this usage is readily apparent: first, its rhetorical punch and strongly pejorative connotations; second, its reminder of the tenacity and continuity of male domination. Despite earth-shaking social changes, not the least of which are the women's Movements of the nineteenth and twentieth century, male power remains. These all continuously give a perspective that women are really controlled, handled, and dictated by men particularly in society. The representation of society can be found in family. Family is the crucial institution in society (Millet, 1972: 33) because it can represent to what happens in the society. In a family the women mostly being the victim of oppressed by their husband or brother. Furthermore, feminist knowledge develops and becomes more sophisticated throughout the 1970s; the family comes to be an important object of analysis. In many cases, it is the crucial site of women s oppression, the space where, unheeded by the world outside, women are at the mercy of fathers or husbands; where the law of patriarchy holds its most primitive form (Pilcher&Whelehan, 2004: 44). Engels as quoted by Millet explains that the ideal type of the patriarchal family and the ancestor is the Roman family, whence come both the term and the legal forms and precedents in the west. Engels informed the word familiaas follow: signify the composite ideal of sentimentality and domestic strife in the present day philistine mind. Among the Romans it did not even apply in the beginning to the leading couple and its children, but to the slave alone. Famulus means domestic slave, and familia is the aggregate number of slaves belonging to one man the expression [familia] was invented by the Romans in order to designate a new social organism the head of which had a wife, children and a number of slaves under his paternal authority and according to Roman law, the right of life and death over all of them(Millet, 1972: 123—124). In family, Gough as quoted by Jo, mentions that men and women cooperate through a division of labor based on gender. Child care, household tasks and crafts closely connect with the household, tend to be done by women; war, hunting, and government by men. Besides that, men in general have higher status and authority over the women of their families, although older women may have influence, even some authority, over junior men (Jo, 1984: 84). Therefore, what things can be inferred to those all understandings, are the problem that is faced by women in the society, the society is like the jail of women and it is sourced by thoughts where place men in a good position to control women. This is also what things reflected on AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone that finally makes the main character, the woman, whispers something as the silent voice in the middle of patriarchy system. This reaction potentially can be said as the thing to get attention and sympathy about what happens to women in Afghanistan, and this can be said as the movement of feminism. FEMINISM In general, feminism is the theory of women's liberation since the intrinsic in all its approaches is the belief that women suffer injustice because of women's sex (Humm, 1989: 74). From the inequality that exists between both gender, women want to search equality in the society, they start to speak up their voices in the publicarena. Women themselves must articulate who they are and what role they play in the society. Most importantly, they must reject the patriarchal assumption that women are inferior to men. This started the feminist movement. It was started by the reality that male-female relations is a form of power structure in which men dominate women (Thebaud, 1994: 290). From this starting point the feminist believe that existing inequalities between dominant and marginalized groups can and should be removed. In the practive the feminist scholars attempt to examine beliefs and practices from the viewpoint of the "other", in this case women, treating them as subjects, not merely objects. Based on all general understanding, it is important to sharpen it into the good shape for not going out of the limitation and wasting buss of explanation of the theory. First of all, it is a long discussion of talking about feminism and its complex sources. To maintain the stability of this research that uses feminism as the knife to slice the discourse of patriarchy reflected in AtiqRahimi's The Patience Stone, thus the first feminism, the main slicer, continuously will be the main point of theory to discuss. The first wave of feminism appeared in the 19th and early 20th centuries, when women's suffrage was at the pole position of an industrializing world. In other word, it happened at the age of Victorian age. In 1800, women had little control over their lot in life. The average married female gave birth to seven children. Higher education was off-limits. Wealthier women could use limited authority in the domestic scope but possessed no property rights or economic autonomy. Lower-class women toiled alongside men, but the same social and legal restrictions applied to this stratum of society as well. Somewhat ironically, religion fueled some of the initial social advancements women made at the beginning of the 19th century. The Second Great Awakening, which started in 1790, emphasized emotional experience over dogma, allowing women more leadership opportunities outside of the home. Abolition and temperance movements that shared Protestant undercurrents activated women as well. It is like to what Stuurman, as quoted by Bryson, says that feminist theological arguments were further elaborated in the seventeenth century: for example, some writers used the creation story to argue that Eve was superior to Adam because she wascreated last, or because she was created out of Adam's rib rather than out of mud and slime (Bryson, 2003: 6). Thus, it can be seen, that in religion, or theologically, the inequality women have, has been rooting to put them down under the knee of men. That means, men are taking higher position in human life where men and women separate them. To talk about the theologically term about the inequality, then women want to get the equality, means that women have something different from the way theology thinks about it and the way of thought is Cartesian with all rationality to think. Bryson notes that the inspiration for these new ways of thinking (feminisms) was the revolution in western philosophy, which had been started in the first half of the seventeenth century by Descartes. According to Cartesian philosophy, all people possess reason, and true knowledge, which is based on experience and self-discovery rather than study of the classics or sacred texts, is in principle available to all. This means that traditional authority is rejected in favor of rational analysis and independent thought, and that customs and institutions which are not in accordance with reason should be rejected. (Bryson, 2003: 6). Therefore, what has been done by feminist is breaking the old thought that is sourced by the empirical way of theology. Moreover, what becomes the main point of this born is the equality that is thought as the right that has been robbed by men and their all system. The first-wave of feminism began in the United Kingdom and the United States around the nineteenth century and lasted until the early twentieth century. The focus of this movement at this time was on de jure inequalities, or officially mandated inequalities. There were many people during this time who were considered to be feminists, Mary Wollstonecraft, Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone, Olympia Brown, and Helen Pitts; there are countless more. The first-wave of feminism was monumental to the movement, however, without the continuing second-wave, there would be no hope for feminism in current times, for each wave is connected and dependent on the other's history. In simpler words, feminism is not some simple thing that people can generalize, like it is just an excuse for women to kick men in the balls, and not take care of themselves, or that men and women must be equal at all costs. Feminism is a movement, which has been incredibly important to the success and failures of this country and has been a necessary journey for the women in our country to travel upon so that they can discover and create their own unique place in society. First wave feminists spent hundreds of years in activism, writing, protesting and working for the betterment and equality of their sex and gender. First wave feminists worked not only for suffrage, or the right to vote, but also for the right to an education, the right to work, the right to work safely, the right to the money they earned when they worked, the right to a divorce, the right to their children and the right to themselves and their own bodies. Rights for women can be traced back to the Middle Ages in the Middle East when early reforms under Islam gave women greater rights in marriage, divorce and inheritance. Women in other cultures were not afforded such rights until centuries later. Further improvements of the status of Arab women included things such as the prohibition of female infanticide and recognizing women's full personhood. The things mentioned above are necessary and were necessary, and in some case, came at the end of long efforts. First wave feminists had to work against this impression, and they had to work against the society that allowed an unmarried woman to be property of her father and a married woman to be property of her husband. The first wave of feminism was the longest, and it is the most taken for granted. It is common now to speak with women who do not identify as feminists who think that feminism is a dirty word, who simultaneously pursue careers and an education, who exercise their right to vote, who own property and benefit from the fruits of their labor. Understanding the history and the efforts of feminism, understanding how much progress they made and how long it took them is important both to those who think they are not feminists, and those who identify as feminists and who live life trying to better the world by the feminist ideal. (Retrieved from uic.edu and pacificu.edu). Victorian feminism is a difficult concept to analyze. On the one hand, some of the greatest reforms of women's social and legal position before those of the late twentieth century occurred in a few decades of the nineteenth century; on the other, many of those women who were active campaigners—Caroline Norton, Florence Nightingale, Emily Davies, and Barbara Bodichon—were ambivalent about the extent of their own feminism, and over-anxious to distance themselves from unconventional lifestyles and behavior. Moreover, they seemed concerned mainly with the plight of intelligent middle-class single women. Their commitment to respectability gave them something of a timorous or half-hearted allegiance to a more wide-ranging kind of feminism; in any case, their contribution to the feminist cause was often narrowly specialized as they concentrated on a particular campaign—whether for women's colleges at Cambridge or child custody rights—to the exclusion of others, and many still relied on men to help them with the legal or parliamentary part of their activism. For some, however, it was impossible to avoid being drawn into a wider examination of women's rights, as happened with Caroline Norton and Harriet Martineau, for example, and by the end of the century, most of the major journals were carrying heated debates about the unsatisfied needs of the modern woman. Beginning initially with spasmodic bursts of activism, first wave feminism gathered pace through the work of specific individuals working for specific ends, until the momentum of events made concern for women's full participation in social and political life a matter of public interest across the whole political spectrum. This in itself was no mean achievement (Gamble, 2006: 24). According to those all explanations about first wave feminism, that is majorly from west, then it is continued to see this based on the glasses of Islam feminism reflected to AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone. There is a woman that faces a fact of patriarchy system, she cannot do anything except confessing something about the inequality that indirectly getting sympathy for anyone who read to pay the pity about equality of thee Woman should have. The equality is something has been robbed by the patriarchy system, and the way the Woman acts, can be said as feminist movement. As Muslim, this thought can be clearly is seen as east feminist movement. It is like to what Kynsilheto says that it was in this context that some of us reported that Muslim women were subverting the patriarchal Islamist project through what appeared to be a new form of feminism-in-the-making which Muslim women in different parts of the world would soon call Islamic feminism. (Kynsilehto, 2008: 26). Therefore, the understanding of this feminism toward this research goes clearer to see as the relevant theory that will be used to slice the data just to become a good shape of analysis without going out of the limitation. STATUS WOMEN IN AFGHANISTAN The position of women in Afghanistan traditionally has been inferiorto that of men. This position has been continuing to age, socio-culturalnorms, and ethnicity. In fact, Afghan women, even until the beginning of 20thcentury are still being the slaves of their father, husband, father-in-law, and elder brother. Thus, it can be said that the status of women are silence and obedience. The essence of attitude towards women could be clearly seen in the relationshipof the family after the birth of a female baby.The birth of a female baby,particularly in those cases where the mother gives birth to several girls, is the main cause of contracting a second marriage, and it is still happened until nowadays. Girls areusually raised to be good mothers and tolerant housewives. Thus no one pays attention to their education, except in very rare cases in some well-to-do families. Furthermore, they are married to young and even to very old men, in most caseswealthy ones between the ages of 13 and 16, and in certain cases between the ages of 10 and 12, if their parents desire. They were exchanged for what is called "Toyana" or marriage price. Young girls had no right to choose theirfuture husbands, or question their engagement, which is arranged by theirparents. Early marriage is the main cause of suffering for girls in Afghansociety. Such marriages are both physically and psychologically unhealthy,and often resulted in sickness and psycho-neurotic diseases. Many youngmothers pass away during releasing it because of physiological reasons and earlymotherhood.Divorce is an easy act if the husband wants it. Afghan women do not have any right to ask for divorce. The man is the governor, the controller, the dictator, of every authorizing in divorcing. It is a slur for both families.Occasionally, wives were deprived of their rights and claims on their ownchildren. Traditional women refer to their husbands as "Sahib", the lord. Wives aregreatly trusted by their husbands. This great confidence rendered byhusbands has led Afghan wives towards great honesty, chastity, courage, andproper manners. Women are mainly occupied with rearing children, cooking,sewing, milking, weaving, spinning, and other similar house-works. For thosewho can pay for servants, their servants free them from the burden of home duties. Women take part in social occasions and family entertainments,but they separate from men. On all occasions where both sexes take part,they remainsto be separated. According to Scharmann (Kakar, 1971), thedivision of men and women into two separate worlds is pronounced inAfghan society. In entering the world outside their homes, women are toveil themselves. They usually try to hide their faces from men, calling them "Namahram", though the exception was for women in upper class families,the number of which was very small. Afghan women are patriotic. They love their native land. That is whyAfghan women in time of war helped Afghan warriors in the battle fields byproviding services such as carrying supplies, removing bodies, helpingwounded soldiers, etc. For example, in the second Afghan war with theBritish, Maiden Malalyis known as the symbol of courage at Maiwand war.At present, women take an active part in defending the revolution. They areorganized in committees for such defense. Based on the paraphrasing of Wali M. Rahimi in his book Status of Women: Afghanistan that is supported by UNESCO, therefore it can be accepted that what things happen to the Woman in AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone, is not only a kind of play of the plots of a fiction, but it can be related to the reflection of the reality world, where women are still living in the jail, they live in the armpits of men that are very rotten. HOW AL-QURAN VIEWS PATRIARCHY As a religion that is always involved in patriarchy, Islam actually seems to be like a scapegoat religion. By the showing from the first creature of Adam, the duty of men of being a leader and women should follow their husband, until the greater rights of wealth heritage. Those all constantly strike Islam as a religion that gives privilege to men rather than to women. This all happen, potentially from the miss understanding toward the interpretation of Al Quran.In Al Quran, the holly book of all Muslim, there is told some reason of those wrong perceptions. In a verse from Surah An-NAhl. There is written, Anyone who works righteousness, male or female, while believing, we will surely grant them a happy life in this world, and we will surely pay them their full recompense (on the Day of Judgment) for their righteous works(16:97). This is what is said as the equality of Men and Women. Both men and women are treated with same treatment, and those all based on what they do in the world with regardless what sex they have. Additionally, there are some verses and Surah that show Islam give similar position between men and women, and the difference of the two is not a hierarchal system, but difference of patching each other. This is very different to what patriarchy understands about, therefore, there is no reason to call Islam as patriarchal religion. SILENT VOICE This is a new term that will be a source of question, what does it mean? How can this term raise among all problems that this thesis emerges up? And many questions follow to trace with no end. However, this term is actually taken from the basic problem of the Woman, as the main character, in AtiqRahimi'sThe Patience Stone. The Woman faces problems of patriarchy system, she cannot do anything except following that system. She is just woman, and she has no voice to demonstrate what she feels, but, when her husband comes back in comate condition, she finally can utter everything she feels. Based on this fact, it can be said that the Woman has a chance to say what she feels from the comate condition of her husband, with that moment she says. She voices something, something that is always hidden and repressed. This repressed voice, finally can be seen as the silent voice, because silent literally mean cannot be uttered directly, it exists but it is not heard and listened, even it cannot be heard nor listened. The voice symbolically shows the heart, the feel, and experience. Therefore, it is completely seen as the silent voice of the Woman, definitely. DEPICTION OF PATRIARCHY'S HANDCUFF THROUGH THE WOMAN'S SILENT VOICE IN ATIQ RAHIMI'S THE PATIENCE STONE The things become the crucial issue in Atiq Rahimi's The Patience Stone is the problem that is faced by the Woman. The Woman here is unnamed character, she has a comate husband after taking back from the war. Here, the Woman delivers everything she has kept, hid, and buried. These feelings are blown up by what she utters to the "dead" husband. Here the conflict emerges as long she delivers it. To start it, the conflict can be rushed to the conflict where the Woman has a sex with her husband at the first night, 'Oh yes bleeding…I was lying to him, of course.' She glances keenly at the man, more mischievous than submissive. 'Just as I've lied to you…more than once!' she pulls her legs up to her chest and wedges her chin between her knees. 'But there is something I'd better tell you…' (Rahimi, 2010: 28). There is something different going wrong in this case. On the quotation, the Woman admits to her comate husband that she has been lying to him. What she lies, is the thing happens when they firstly sleep in gathering. Pulling the plot before, the man comes after homing from war. He is as nervous as the woman in facing the first having sex. Then, they finally have a sex. The Husband feels happy because he thinks that the woman is still virgin. The proof is, the blood melts down while the Husband penetrates his penis down. It is accepted because, in oriental countries, culture, women are like the special things. Therefore, the virginity of women is the crucial thing every man should have got. It can be thought carefully when it is compared with western culture. In western culture, a man and a woman can live together although they have not been married, but it is not accepted in mostly eastern culture, moreover in Afghanistan. To get it, men's culture construct a jail where women are prohibited to be out of house in order to make them saves of being not virgin. However, the blood that melts on the Woman's vagina is the blood of menstruation. The Husband does not know, and he does not want to know. The way the Husband does it, the way the Husband treats his wife with regardless the condition of the wife appears something. It is a kind of a force, the insisting seems that the Husband, as a man, has a power and right to do everything to the wife. This authority can be belonged to an action of domination of a man to his wife. Further explanation, the way these two creatures marry, is not in a proper equal right. What is meant by this statement is, the Woman marries to her husband in a condition where she has to be sit with a photo because the Husband in on process of war. That is the pity thing for every woman to marry with someone she never sees directly and physically. This marriage happens because the Woman is believed as a woman who has been already of being married. With regardless the love, the feeling, and the desire to marry, the Woman is insisted to marry. This is harsh thing, the hard thing for women to neglect it. Women are poisoned by this system, because if women try to make a move of changing it means that women have not been ruling the law, and it is considered as fighting to God's rule. As it can be mirrored directly that, this system, this marriage gives something pleasant for the men because they (men) do not have to be so serious in facing the marriage because they can represent their appearance, their existence, in the ceremony. Another fact is, when the Husband has a sex with the Woman, actually the Woman is in the period that means she has menstruation. However, what thing that can stick to every eye is the fact that the Husband firstly meet the Woman, his wife, three years after they marry.'When you and I went to bed for the first time after three years of marriage, remember! Anyway, that night, I had my period.' (Rahimi, 2010: 28).From the quotation above, it can be read unmistakably that the Woman meets her husband firstly after three years passed. This is added the explanation above that the Woman is jailed in the system of patriarchy. The Woman cannot break the rule, she has to follow the rule, she has to be laid down on the feet of a man. It can be imagined, how can a marriage is not attended by one of the couple? It is really strange and seemed not to be a fair marriage. Additionally, the Woman marries to her husband is caused by the time she has to marry. Moreover, her sister has been sold to a man because her father cannot pay the debt after being lost in his bet. After having a sex, the days after, the Husband should go to the war again. It means that he has to leave his wife again. The Woman, as a woman generally in the world, must feel sad of being left by the husband. Therefore, the Husband looks to be a pride thing for everyone in Afghanistan, because he struggles for nation, for religion, for Afghanistan. Although, what the Husband does is sacrificing the happiness of the Woman. This is the voice of the Woman in front of the comate Husband. She utters everything she feels, what she utters means that she has been keeping, holding, and defending her emotion and anger because of the relation with her husband. She marries with a man, and during the marriage, for ten years, she never speaks, she never does something husband-wife does generally such a chit-chatting, joking, giving romantically action, and other actions. The coming of the Husband is only run out by drinking, partying, and laughing with all his friend, then he wants to have sex with his husband, the Woman. Therefore, it means that the woman is only an object of sexuality, object to deliver the Husband desire of sexuality, the object that is only for satisfying his ambition of the desire. Within this context, within this culture that asks every woman to fulfill the desire of the husband, becomes the thing that can be good and bad. Generally, it is good for a normal relation that has good husband and wife. For example, the filling what husband desires can strengthen the relation of the two, between the husband and the wife. However, the context that the Woman faces is different. She is very seldom of meeting with his husband, she never speaks, talks, and make conversations. Then the Husband comes home, and wants to have sex after drinking and partying. Can it be looked as a duty for every woman in the world to fill what the husband wants? This is unfair thing. This is the thing that can slice the feel of every woman. Women are also creature, they are human being, they also have feeling and desire. They want to be felt, they want to treated humanely. If the Husband just want to throw out his desire and after that he goes off again. It makes the impression of the Woman that she just a whore of the man, she is just a slut of the Husband, she is only a harlot of his husband. This s irony, but this is what happens to the Woman in Atiq Rahimi's The Patience Stone. Because the setting is in Afghanistan, it can be reflected that something happens to the Woman, is what the things happen to some women in Afghanistan. Talking about Afghanistan, it must relate to the system they use. Afghanistan is a complicated country. Therefore, what can be inferred from the explanation has been noted in the understanding before about the position women in Afghanistan, is the women have no freedom to move, to express something, to say something such as "Excuse me, I want to divorce you." Or something like "Um… Sorry we need to discuss it before." The fate of women seems to have been robbed out. They do not have anything in the world, everything they want to say, everything they want to deliver based on what they feel, based on what they think is unfair, is unsaid, and it is kept in heart. What else that has to be said that this system is called as patriarchy system. Indeed, it is Islam, but it is longer used as what equality in Islam has been written on the holy Koran. This is caused by the wrong interpretation of human, the wrong interpretations are finally used as the culture, and for the God's sake, it is inherited. The Quran makes it clear that Women and Men are equal in the eyes of God. This is the weakness of human, to see something they always see it by what they can accept, although God has different point of view. One of the most misunderstood areas in Islam is the position, the situation, and the condition of women in the religion. The universal view in the West is that Muslim women are subjugated and almost seen as property or the object of men. Although, not all Muslims deal with that statement that women as inferior, this is unfortunately true in some segments of the Muslim world and this treatment is supposedly reasonable thing by the religion. However, when it is looked at the basis of the religion, the Quran, it can be seen a different picture. In the Quran God makes it very clear that men and women are equal. Their Lord responded to them: "I never fail to reward any worker among you for any work you do, be you male or female - you are equal to one another. Thus, those who immigrate, and get evicted from their homes, and are persecuted because of Me, and fight and get killed, I will surely remit their sins and admit them into gardens with flowing streams." Such is the reward from GOD. GOD possesses the ultimate reward. (3: 195). The only criterion for distinguishing among the people. Based on what those show, it can be articulated that God seems to have no distinguishing, or special thing to differ between men and women. The two can have sins, the two can hbe living in the paradise, the promised place. If the God seems to say that, why men creates their own understanding to control women in their armpits, is that a kind of breaking the rule of God whereas God say that there is no difference between men and women, the two can live in paradise and have sins. If the paradise is for good human, and men try to be good by slaving women, and women try to be good women by being slaved by men, is that a kind of justice? Men can live freely by slaving women in the world, and slaving is kind of joyful action. They do not have to be pregnant, they do not have to be working at house, wiping the shits of the baby, feeding the baby, menstruation, and busy of massaging their husband. If they (women) have to do so as their duty, they should have the same result of what they have done, the same right of not being slaved. They should have similarity, because of what they do for men are rightfully consisted of rights. However, men, the culture of men, the system of men, the wrong interpretation, makes them fall to the disgusting thinking about women. How can that clear verses be ignored? Why are women treated so poorly in some Muslim communities? The answer lies in the fact that those communities take other sources besides the Quran as the basis of their religion. There are many Hadiths that degrade women. In addition, the pre-Islamic cultures of much of the Muslim world do not value women and have little use for them. The following verses demonstrate this fact: Long and complicated, the tradition that brings and leads the system of men to mostly Muslim nations, here is Afghanistan. However, it can be traced that what makes this becomes the intimate problems of Afghanistan is their condition. Their variety of religion and the territorial that is surrounded by West and East culture makes them are easy to be got down, especially in their rule. Islam, where the verses are delivered beautifully, but it is interpreted wrongly, and makes the wrong system of men. There are difference between men and women, but the difference does not mean they are not equal. They have same duty and right, the same means to the effect rather than the direct meaning of duty, so does the right. However, this right does not longer exist for many women, and it can be represented by the Woman in AtiqRahimi. Again, she has to admit that to be married with the Husband is not what she wants. 'Your mother, with her enormous bust, coming to our place to ask for the hand of my younger sister. It wasn't her turn to get married. It was my turn. So your mother simply said, "no problem, we'll take her instead!", pointing her fleshy finger at me as I poured the tea. I panicked and knocked the pot over.' She hides her face in her hands.in shame, or to dispel the image of a mocking mother in law. 'as for you, you didn't even know this was happening. My father, who wanted nothing more, accepted without the slightest hesitation. He didn't give a damn that you weren't around! Who were you, really? No one knew. To all of us, you were just a title: the hero! And, like every hero, far away. Engagement to a hero was a lovely thing, for a seventeen year old girl. I said to myself. (Rahimi, 2010: 53—54). Here is told that the Woman does not have any right to choose which man she wants to be married to, because her mother selects the man for her. It shows that the power of parents is strongly grabbing the children, and the children that gets the bigger grab is woman. Women are considered as slow, weak, and brittle. Thus, it is not right if women are given a chance to choose men. Furthermore, the Women does not love the man she marries. It is a kind of insisting. Why should be woman? This is the patriarchy system, the system that control women. The more ironical thing happens to the Woman in Atiq Rahimi's The Patience Stone is, she marries with a man she never knows, and even in the marriage ceremony, she marries to a photo. '… they celebrated our engagement without the fiancé. Your mother said. "don't worry, victory is coming! It will soon be the end of the war, we will be free and my son will return!" Nearly a year later, your mother came back. Victory was still a long way off. "It's dangerous to leave a young, engagement woman with her parents for such a long time!" she said. And so I had to be married, despite your absence. At the ceremony, you were present in the form of photo and that wretched khanjar, which they put next to me in place of you. (Rahimi, 2010: 54). Based on the quotation above, it can be read obviously that the Woman marries to a man she never knows and during the marriage ceremony, she just sits next to a photo, not the man she marries to. This is an irony fact, the Woman must feel sad, besides the force of marrying the man she never knows, she must also feel sad of this moment. This is an unfair thing for woman, and can it be said that this is the fair thing for woman to marry with a photo? Furthermore, for years the Woman is not allowed to jostle, to join with a group, with neighbors, and friends. She has to be in home, doing everything in home. The home is like the jail of her, she is prohibited of talking to anyone. And I had to wait another three years. Three years! For three years I wasn't allowed to see my friends, or my family…it was not considered proper for a young married virgin to spend time with other married women. Such rubbish1 I had to sleep in the same room as your mother, who kept watch over me, or rather my chastity. And it all seemed so normal, so natural to everyone. To me, too! I didn't even know how lonely I was.' (Rahimi, 2010: 54). The way her mother in law treats her can be analogized that the Woman seems like a prisoner. She is forbidden to interact with the other side of the house, she has to sleep with her mother in law while the Husband is in war. The mother always keeps watching on her, and it is like a guard in the jail, and the woman is the prisoner. She is like a creature who is born to be kept watching, with no right to do, every move she makes is something her mother in law catches.When she is like a prisoner, she must be the fault one whether she is fine or doing a mistake. It is portrayed to this below quotation. Those all are what the Woman feels and it is portrayed in a conclusion where patriarchy system in Atiq Rahimi's The Patience Stone is drawn. The Woman is the representation of this portrayal, she feels in jail, she feels like a prisoner, no right and no freedom to move. She marries to a man she never knows, her sister becomes the stake of her father's bet, and she forced to be pregnant although the Husband is the unfertile one. She is insisted to meet someone like a priest to consult the pregnant, and the priest is actually a procurer. She is asked to get in a room, and a man with blindfolded penetrates her until she gets pregnant. The way her mother insists her to get pregnant with not knowing the condition of her son, makes the Woman has a baby from a man she does not know. This the cruel of the patriarchy, when women do not have any right to speak something, they are jailed, and the only one thing the Woman in the story can do is, delivering everything she feels to her comate husband. With a silent voice, she utters and posits herself. THE IMPACT OF THE WOMAN'S SILENT VOICE IN ATIQ RAHIMI'S THE PATIENCE STONE As the response of facing this problem, the Woman cannot do anything except telling the truth of what she feels, what she hides, what she wants to deliver, because she does not want to hurt anyone. Therefore, she wants to tell it to no one, besides that she must be afraid of telling what she feels because what she faces is the culture, the misunderstood religion, and social truth. This problem is delivered through this below quotation, she thinks that it is better to keep silent and to tell to no one. 'I never wanted anyone to know that. Never! Not even my sisters!' she leaves the room, upset. Her fears echo down the passage. 'He's driving me mad. Sapping my strength.Forcing me to speak.To confess my sins, my mistakes.He's listening to me. Hearing me.I'm sure of it. He wants to get to me…to destroy me!' (Rahimi, 2010: 60—61). This is what happens to the Woman's sister. Her sister is forced to marry, her father sells her sister because her father defeats in bet. However, what can the Woman do? She is just a woman, she has no voice, her voice is not to be heard or listened, she is just a creature that is created by not deliberation, therefore, woman should be in room, cooking, bearing baby, feeding baby, and doing "female" activity. She does not have to have something like man, like voicing voice. This shows that the Woman posits herself in a mute, in silence, and in the broken heart with no fight back. The culture has constructed them t be like this, silence and mute. This is the best position the Woman can replace because if she wants to break the rule, she must be destroyed, tortured, and punished by the law the men create. One of the best way, besides keeping silence, is telling the truth to God. When her husband is comate, the Woman always prays on her Husband. Her Husband is just comate, cannot respond, cannot do anything. A hand, a woman hand, is resting on his chest, rising and falling in time with his breath. The woman is seated. Knees pulled into her chest. Head sunk between her knees. In the other hand, the left, she holds a long string of black prayer beads. She moves them between her fingers, telling them. Silently.Slowly.In time with her shoulders. In time with the man's breath. Within reach, open at the flyleaf and placed on a velvet pillow, is a book, the Koran. Her plump, dry, pale lips are softly and slowly repeating the same word of prayer. (Rahimi, 2010: 2—3). This is what the Woman does, he prays for the Husband, although everyday it seems no worth, no use, and it even seems to be in vain. However, as a Good wife, she always prays, and never quits for stopping praying. This is the way the Woman posits herself, although she gets unfair life, although her life is grabbed by the system of men, although her happiness is robbed by the injustice, she just tries and keeps trying to be a good wife fro her evil Husband. The way the Husband keeps silence and receives all things the Woman tells, is analogized as the Patience Stone. It is the mythical stone for Muslim in Hajj, the stone that is very soft and can release all burden. Probably, this is why the Woman tells it to her comate Husband. There are so many internal conflicts the Woman faces, and she almost has a plan to leave her comate Husband. However, she is a god wife, and she is so sorry of having it. It is reflected on this below quotation. 'Forgive me', as she strokes his arm. 'I'm tired. At breaking point. Don't abandon me, you're all I have left.' She raises her voice : 'Without you, I have nothing. Think your daughters! What will I do with them? They're so young…' She stops stroking him. 'The Mullah won't come today,' she says with some relief (Rahimi, 2010: 14—15). In this quotation, it shown and portrayed that the Woman is almost surrendered, she almost quits, she is almost getting tiring. Her frustration is caused by the condition of the Husband that is not different days by days. However, she remembers about her daughter, and it adds something in her heart not to leave the Husband. Based on this fact it can be seen that the Woman is trying to posit herself in a god way, she is just trying to be a good wife, a good Muslim who works the rule of not leaving the Husband and doing everything for the Husband, although the Husband is in comate condition. This portrayal, is the form of faith, the Woman is really special woman, by the condition that can strike her, the situation that can make her angry, the experience that can make her has a revenge for the injustice, she keeps having a feeling to take care of her Husband. Then, the reflection of the Woman to posit herself is clearly seen b this quotation. As a good mother, the Woman also treats her children with lovely treatments. It is shown by this quotation below that shows that the children are not allowed to disturb the comate father. 'Don't be frightened, darling. I'm here.' The mother reassures her : 'I wasn't shouting. I was talking to your father.' They walk away from the door. 'Why are you calling my father Al-Qahhar? Is he cross?' 'No, but he will be if we disturb him.' The little girl falls silent (Rahimi, 2010: 17). The way the Woman asks to her children not to disturb their father who is comate shows that the Woman keeps the Husband, she does not want her Husband gets worse by the disturbing. This is showing the Woman posits herself in treating her Husband. Based on the experience when she has to marry with a photo, the experience where she has to be penetrated while she has menstruation, until her Husband's brothers who always spy the Woman while she takes a bath, she does not have any revenge. If she has, she must kill the Husband easily because the Husband is between the condition of dead and alive. He is comate, and it is very easy for everybody to kill him, no exce

Issue 3.6 of the Review for Religious, 1944. ; for Reh NOVEMBER ~! 5, 1944 t '~ (~°uesfions. Answered,' I Ind~=x tOVolumeThree ,~ ":RE, I EW "FOR R G-IOUS ¯ , "VOL0~ I~I - NOVEMBFR I~, 19.44 - No. 6., CONTENTS- ~ PIUS XII ON BIBLE STUDIES Clemen~J. MeNa.sp~, S.J .3.6.1 SCRIPTURE IN,THE CHRISTMAS LITURGY~Robert G. North, S.J. 3~68 '~. BOOKLET NOTICES '. .~. . ~t~OOM FOR THE EBONY CHRIST?John E.! Coogan, S.J. 377 ~ OUR CONTRIBUTORS " A HUNDR'ED YEARS OF' APOSTOLIC PRAYER~ Alban J. Dachauer. S.J .~. 385 . THE DEGREES' O~: PRAYER~Edward J. McNally, S.J .391 BOOKS RECEIVED , . . . . ~ . " ; . 40l RELIGIOUS PROFESSION: A SECOND BAPTI~M?~Ja~es E.RIsk, S,3,,,, ;~.402 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~ - -._ , Abbreviating'the Postulancy: Obligation~ to go to Ordinary Confessor: " Commut~)ty Doctbr and Secrecy: ~Dispensa~tion from Eucharistic Fast: ~ Obligafion of Novice to make a Will: Converts and Ent~'ance into Reli- , g~on: Use bf Money given for Specified Purpose: PortiuncuJa~ Indulgence i~ Churches of Third Order Regular: Holding Bd'ads, for Cr6zier Indul-gence: Time for Saying. Little O~ce:" Questioning of Boys by So¢ial~" Workers: Novitiate without Isolation or.Novice Mistress: Transfdr from ¯ " Activ~ to Cloistered Instit~ute: Re-admission to Religious Life; Division of Institute into Provinces. ~.- " . . . . 410 BOOK REV, IEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, S.J.) ° . The Ascetical Life: A World to Re¢gnst~ruct; Paul of Tarsus: The Pas-torabCar( of'Souls: Molders 6f the Medieval Mind: Canonical Procedure in Martimonial Cases: Voll II, Informal Procedure: Abridgment ,of the Interior Spirit of the Religious of the Visitation: Maryknoll~ Missi6n Let-terL Vol. I, 1944": Dea¢onship: Conferencel on the Rite of OrdinatiOn; Our Lady's Praise in Poetr~ . " . ' ~ . 42 INDEX TO VOLUME III. ' . ; ~ . 42'8 "~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. November. 1944. Vol. III. No. 6.: Publish¢d bi-monthly: ~lantlary. March. May. duly. September. and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Stfeet, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary'~s College, St. Marys; " Kansas, with ecclesiastical al~prob;ition. Entered as second class matter danua~y 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas; under the act of March 3, 1879. ~Editoria[_Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.d., G. Aughstine Ellard, 8.J., Gerald Kelly, "~.~I,~ Copyright. 1944. b~ Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby,granted for'quotations of reasonable I~ngth, provided due credit be given this review and the aut-l~r~. SubScription price: 2~dollars a year: Printed in U. S. A. Before writin(J to us. please consult notice ~n inside back cover. Pius XII on'. Bible $ udies Clemer~t J. McN.aspy, S.J. ~.~,IHEN Rome speaks it is always news: when Rome ~W ¯ speaks in the solemn form of an encyclical it ~is l~ead- line ne~s, But whim" the,Holy. Father gives a pro- , nouncement on Scripture, the whole Catholic learned world feels especially, concerned. It is .now-just .over a year since ,o-the Pope sent out his.encyclical on Bible" studies, called by its oPCning words Divino.A~ante Spi.rim (that is, "Under ,th~ Inspiration of theDivine Spirit':'~). Even, before actuhl. copies We.re available in America.interest was so higla~that 'arti~les beg~,n appearing ~n Catholic, publications of: all ,tyises . -: T~ue,. this encyclical;is~.lar~ge!y directed .to pri~sfs, seminarians, arid theology teachers, Whose. profdssion plainly'has to. do with preachi~ng and studying God's ii~Si~ired word. Yet. the H01y Father speaks to the lait~ 'too and invites them to become outstanding in studies d.eal.ing with the Bible. For they too can "render a. con-spicuous service to the Christian cause." ' ¯ ". . Bi'shops are urged fo "effcourage all th,6se initiatives by ivhi~h men . . . laudably strive to excite and foster among ,.Catholics a greater, knowledge of and love for th~ SacrCd Books." They are to favor '.'those pious associations whose aim it is, to spread copies of ~theoSacred Letters, especially of. the Gospels, among the Faithful and to pr6cur~ by every means that in Christian families the same be read daily, with .~piet~r and devotion." All the more would this seem-to apply to religious 7families," particularly th6se whosd regular program of ~ s~tudies-d~es not a11ot,c.ourses in Scr!pture. To. use the Holy_ Father's words again, if the faithful "are to be nourished CLEMEN'I~ ~J. ~ MeNASPY -~ " Review ~ fo~ Religious °with .thiS same food that:they may, draw fro'~ thence~the~¯ khowle~dge and"lov~ ~f-God a~nd."t~he pr?gress~mperfectton and' the happiness of their own souls," evidently h~does not mean to exclude those striving to live the very~of~ulness of the Christian life:~ - The new encyclical'~is now easily available. Tran~l~- tionshave.appeared in rr;any dio(esan newspapers; th, e May oissue.-of The Catholic Mind c6ntains one, which is being* publish_ed in, pamphlet~ form by America Pres r ry n fafe .cat i v e prayer. ~ ;- o Is there .a ~ype of contemplativ'e~ prayer, wl~kh we can - bring about at leasi: partially by. our'own efforts? It is importar~t to grasp the question at issue" here. Since ~all: me~ritorious prayer requires grace for its performance, we _~are2not ihquiring into our :ibility, to contemplate ,~'ithofit gr~ic~, but Whether, by utilizing the graces which are2avail, -~able. ~to all Christians, we can positively, help in building 6ur owns.ability to pra_y contemplativ~ly. The contra.ry sfippositio~n is that all contemplation, is infused and that we are restricted to-remov.igg the obstacles to such pra~ye?~ Then ~t would be given, finally as. a pure gift of God ~"-. 6ut any infallible causal 'connection with 0hr preparator~r acts. The atlthors v~e are following maintain that there °~n acquired contemplation. Father DeGuibert cites, f~r :thi~ ~ ~po~ition such le~di~ig auth6rities asoSt. Thomas Aquinai,i-~. St. Teresa, and St. 3bhn of the Cross. Experience confirms this teaching and reason would-lead. us.to expect it, For just as in " natural sdehce and ,philosophy when one has become thoroughly, familiar with his subject, he c~an find.mental repose in contemplating the ' ~rderliness 6f the system oftruths he hSs learned, so ih th~ ~bnsideration of the truths of faith, one. would be prone.to ,-,_~ @pect~ that a similar stage Would be reached iri due time2 The practical moment of holding this position is tl~at it~ .-founds the~convic~ion . that contemplatige prayer, admit-.~ .tedly a most efficacious means of spiritual progress, ~s ~. wlthin, the grasp of all and will certainly l~e our~,~ provided. w~ make the necess~ary efforts. _ . >. Method in Disdursioe Prag~r ~ ' 0f~ the forms ~of pi:a~rer thus far considered, discursive. EDWARD.:J. MCNALLY . ~ Reoietu for Religious~ ,, prayer is the only 6ne which may properly bE said,t~ be ~ go~rerned~ by method: These methods have been worked " °out in accord wiith~sup~rnatural prudence and so do" not oppose, obht work' alon~g with, the 0.pera.tions 6f ~race," At' all times it is to be borne in mind that they.are intended' as means to subserve God's _sanctifying influence ~upon the. " soul and-are to be adhered to precisely in the degree that they are helpful to this end. Gerierally speaking, the use of ¯ method°is a real need for those beginning to pray mentally. Not infreq,u~ntly also those who have been p.raying-for., some~years are still unabie at times to make~ use of the ~. simpler forms of prayer profitably; in such cases method sh6uld be followed; ' We find that the various methbds of prayer in use~in the Church ,possess certain common elements. Thus, all methods-insist on ~he importance of the remote prepara-ti0n)~-, This is summed up. by Father De Grandmaison as follows. One ought always sinceiely to pu~ the thin'igs~'of' "God in the highest placd. He shohld trust that intimate friendship with God is possible and relatively easy. should practise self-denial. It will make prayer easy if ond seeks God:in all things, practises interiorsilence~ and tries to put. on the sentiments of Christ Himself. " : 0 ~ According to.-the Ignatian methOd, .which is quite. widely practised today,, the proximate preparation iricludes ¯ a choice of material for prayer.- It shows reverence for God 15y~spending 'some time beforehand in fixing on what we .are to consider in prayer. Furthermore, "the pray~er itself is mdre deeply r~cdllected as a result,-since the entire time of °~rayer can be' spent i~n direct relationship with God and not. ~in the extraneous business of deciding what the~prayer is to-be about. For morning prayer, if'khd preparation be made the evening before, this me'thod has the added adv.an.tageof .enlisting the sub~onsci6us activity of the preceding night ih 394 Of humility and re;terence, and a petition for grace to.rn'ake~ -. the prayer weli. The use of a composition off.place is recom- o --* mended if the subject is an event in our Lord's life, in order ~ ihat thus the'one-praying may as it were projedt himself into the scene. Its use in subjects that are not historica!,bi~t ihvisible,, f3r example, a theological truth, is not favored ~by all. Utility to the individual seems to be the final test~'.- 'here. ~ " .THE DEGREES' OF~ PR)gYE~ the cause of'player. Th~ matter :chosen~-should fit the. needs and inclinatibns of~each one:" The start o~f the player .will, include an act of redalling the presence of God, an act~ An important question is" whether a definite~grace~ sl~ould .~" ~- be sought., Here a distinction is ~o ~be made between the time'of making the Spiritual Exdrcisesof St: Ignatius (for "one who.makei t.hem)and, ordinary daily'prayer. Durifig the Exercises, . the petition for the grace appropriate to each~ exercise is clearly essential, since the Exercises are a cohesix;e wtiole wherein each grace prepares for the succeeding . ~n the other hand, in daily prayer such a specific petition is not hlways required. Yet it is well tO make it frequently in -o~der t9 have definite, sp~ritua.1 aims. The dose of the .prayer should be more directly ~concerndd with God and have some bearing on the p~esent day's endeavor. A definite" resolution, however, may not always be needful ~ince th~ prayer is sufficiently prhctical if therd is a general up!.ifting ,of the heart:saffectibns to God or if a clearer grasp of a truth~ of fai~:h be gaine.d. The fbllowing suggestio.n~ g6v- '~rn the" prayer itself: 1) One 'should Stay where one findsdevotton'-' ~and as l~on~ a.~ one does so. ~ .2) Mote value is to be put on ~he affections of the heart and will than on intellectual considerations. - 3) Yet as the will's affections spring from ~hat the mind apprehends, the intellectual acts are not .to.~ be.-, cut 395 ED~CARD" d. ~McNALL¥~ " ~ )- '-~ Reuiew ,f6i- R~liqious "- ~ -short, prematurely:. ~4) The fUil.time'is to. be given to. pra:yer dedpite desola-. "-tibn. ~" 5) Violent efforts to seek devotion should be avoided. In itself, the e~irly morning se~ms the best-time" for-m~ iking mental prayer, sirice at that tim~ the mind is riot ~yet taken up With the responsibilitie~ of thd "day's work. .Yet if fatigue is too noticeable then,.some other tim~ free f.rom ii~ter.ruptions, i~ preferable. -This' latter suggestion. " applies to those for :whom th-~ time of prayer is not fixed' by ': rule. The posture should be the one most suitable to Obtain the fruit.desired and foi.due reverence:" ¯ - Timel~j:Trarldtions to Higher Forms o~ Pr.a~ter ¯ , .It i~-important that.~he transitions, first fr6m discursive to-affective'prayer and then from affective to contemplative :, prayer, occur at the proper times. To dela~; them.too 1,o.ng would be unnecessarily to render prayer tedious.and to fail to take advantage of the grace God intends for the soul. On '~ the other hand, to encourage the affective or contemplative way befor~ the grace for it is offered would be an atte ~mpt" -.c.ertain to fail., Hence it is important for the director to be ¯ able to recognize the Ordinary signs of a call to'these types of .prayer. The .principal test is the one suggested b~r[ St. Teresa, that the prayer rnu.st produce its effect upon the [,whble life of ~he individuaE by making him more humble, mpr¢closely united with God, and more careful to perform-[ well the duties of his state of life. Besides thi~, there~hould be at least equal facility in" the more. advanced-prayer. In addition to these two principal"criteri_a two others will help. -, recognize a call. They are a distaste for' discursiv~ p~aye'r. ~an~. a persistent attraction for affeCtive prayer: These. lat-'. ter t~o.signs may be called supplementary, as they are not ,always present. ~ Sqme personsad'vance early~to affectjveprayer. In such. ~-:~ casesch~e {s ~obe tak4n cha~ 5~ o~her means--for~examPle, - -~:,.6y conferences and re~ding--s~ch p~rsons'attain tothe deep unders[anding and,personal convictions of the great otruths ": ~ " of the-spiritual life and of their obligations that ordinaril~ a~e the result of discursive prayer. ~, -~ Dan~ers to Be A6oided ¯ Even after one is practising affe~tive praCer and shoul~ ~ bd practising it, certain dangers are to be watched fo~: One of these dangerd is a tendency toward too-violent excitgtion 6f affections ~hich usually occurs when one is laying stress on the sensible emotions instead of the will's determination. be ~givefi in order that affective or "contemplative prayer be : ~ ~ ,made with the g~eatest possible fruit. Another danger is that of spiritual gluttony for "sensible. onsolations. This caff le~d to a "neglect.of the duties.of, one's state of life ,in order noYto be deprived of anysensible consolation. There is also daniier Of presumption based on the judgment that one'must.be far ahead of others.spir-~- itually since one is enjoying great intimacy.with God. , Similarly, acquired ,conteinplation is also attended'b~r ~ certain' spiritual darigers. For example, there may be'dejec-. tion. of mind when this contemplation; at first very swe_et,:- o he.crimes arid and tasteless.: Or one may conceive a gr~eat rep~ugnance for making any distinct act.of the mind, such. as reasomng, even though impelled thereto by grace. A~in: dne. m~iy presume to despise 16wet forms o_f. prayer. Fin~ill y, laziness an,do a superficial spiritual life may derive-from a lack of cooperation with the. graces ,of contemplative prayer. ~ Hence. speaking_p~sitive!y, the following advice might 1) Solid and fundamental~ virtues are:to be rather than subjectively, plea~ing experiences. ,2) Greater recollection should be cultivated. :[.3) The examination of.consciefi~e is" to b~ kept up and - gr3ater purity of consci¢.nc.~ sought. " ., 4) No inspirati.on .of g~race should be disobeyed. " Even for those pr.actising these more advanced forms of .,~ : prayer preparation of material is recomm~n~l~d. °This.!may ~be done more simply than formerly. Thus, the subject chosen might merel, y be a' passage from Holy Scripture ~in, event in a saint'slife, or a certain, supernatural affection "of the will[ The Night of the Senses ¯ " -Th, e,final-pre, p~ratiofi of a soui for the gift of habitual rhysti~al" prayer is almost always the first passive nightof" >the soul, known as the nigh.t of the .senses. This is ch~iracte~- ized by a .great ari,dity. There is a simple memory' of God ~hich persists throughou~ prayer. This is the one constant -~ttraction of the mihd and 'it endures more or less inde-~ pehde,ntl~r of the will. S0metlmes .this i"nemory has conso-la'tion in it. '-MUch more commonds a painfu~ and persist-ent need, of a closer union with. GOd. Those who h~re already had some transient experiences w.ith consoling mysticalprayer can define wha't they Want:,,,,it is the return of that prayer flowering in the possession of God. ~,Grace. begins to induce a distasfe for even such sensible:ple~isures as are lawful. The will is free to resist this purifying proc-e~, ss~ and One is tempted to immerse oneself in, excessive indul-~ genceoin sense experience. The proper course tO be.f6.11owed is just,the opposite. Recoll~ktion is to, be presereed, and the "senses mortified.During time of prayer one should be con-tent with the simple, thought of God; this is all. that ongcaff do withOut tooviolent efforts; 0fie should pray for quick "deliverance from this time of trial if it be'God's will. - Distinctive Nature of MqsticalPrager Three qualifies set infused contemplation, apart f~om ¯ " 398 ' Noi~mbec, 19~44 - T~E DI~_aREES OF PRAYeRs-. ~ill ot~er ~rayer. First,'God's 15r~sehce till now l~nbwn dnly b~r:faith seems ~d be expdrienced. It is felt. This conscious-ness of God's presence has beeia e.xpressed analbgously by othqse who have had it as a~fouc14 of God or a Sl:;iritual ta~sting. Only. in.,the more advanced m~stical~ prayer do the analogies~of hearing and sight.0ccur. .Secondly, this ihtui-tion is simple, not bringing any other new knowledge to soul.~ Thirdly, ttie prayer is simply received from ~od, sifice no human efforts can produce it even for a short tinge. Grades of Myst.ical Prayer " Th~e. ar~, according to the authors we are ~fol~lOwing, three principal-stages' of ~mystical prayer:, the "prayer 6f quiet; the prayer of fhll union; and the .tra.n, sfgiming union, also known as the .mystical marriage. The pr~ayer of .quiet may be described as mystical union.in which tlqd ~divine act.ionis not yet strong enough to exclfid~ distrac- =tio~s. -At first,-this prayer will last only for very brief intervals, say for the space of a Hail-Mary. Gradua113~ attains lofiger duration until finally it is Eossessed almost ali the"time that is spent in prayer. . :-~In the, second stage, of mystical~ prayer, known as the prayer of full.union, the experience of God is su~cient!y ~absorbing to preclude all distractions. At first, this prayer tgo is had "only very briefly, though with profound_effedts .upon thb soul. A half an hour is considered rather 1ong.A person gifyed with .this prayer falls back to the. prayer of ~quie~ in the intervals between periods of full union. I~s_ ~rea~tiofi on the body is rfiore or less pronounced, accc~rding ~.~ to, the[temperament of the recipient. I~ can result ii~ ecstasy. Before ,being admitted to.the final stige of mys~tical' praye[: the transforming union, the soul must be further purified: ~. This purgation is effected through~ the.' 399 MCNALL¥ Reoieu~ for ReligiOus passive~i~h(of the soul known~fis tl~e night of the S]~irit. ' This state is not ~without j0y~resultin~ drom the infused 5ontempla~tion of God~ But it is-chiefly characterized-by" very -. great sufferings. Understanding.God's holiness and love in" a~nev~ way, the' soul also perceives the enormity its own ififidelities and conceives "a torturing abhorrence, c~F- ~them. This great sorrow and destestation of its faults~ cleanses the soul from them and so fits it for more exalted union with God. There is at times agreat aridity making ~ prayer seemimpossible. Very_delightful periods of infused contdmplatjon have been experienced, arousing the soul's desire°for more peLfect union with God; now these graces ha,vd:been Withdrawn, leaviffg the. soul without joy and acutely and painfully conscious of its g~eat .need fo p.os-sess God. ~ - - -/~ At-length th~ finai stage of mystical prayer is reached_. ~, This transformingunion or-mystical marriage has ~'th~reeT' distinctive properties. First, it'is almost .permanent; goin~ ,on'practically all the time even amid external activity. Per~ ;~ so/as gifted With this kind of-prayer ~have been impressed witffa Rindof duality within themselves. - The h!gher fac-ulties of the soul are n~early always_ rapt in prayer, while the lower Qnes are capable of engaging in all sorts of work~;" ~I'n~ .some cases this prayer lasts even during sleep. Ecstasy is -rarer than in p@e~eding degrees[ Temptation~and interidr sufferings Occur only infrequ'ently. ~ ~ The second_ property of this _degree of prayer is an, ~xperience of the transformation or divinization of the°~ 16ul. The supernatural divine concurrencegranted to÷soUls, in~ grace becomes the object, of conscious° appreh~nsiom ~. There" is a Sp, ecial percept.ion of union with G0d~ 'an~t all a~t~bns are. consciously performed with Him and through Hiifi. ¯ Thirdl.~, so~e ~ersons gifted With this prayer have an No.tuber, 1~44~ ~ ~ ,~,~ ~THE DI~GREF~ 01~ ~YER :ilmost con--tindous vision ofthe-Blessed Trinity.-St. Teresa: ~---says that~this is always-so. But St. zJohn of the Cross does not merition it and there seem t6 have been cases-of the tr.ansform!n~ union With God as ~ne, without any co_n- ~.~ sciousness df Hiin as Three. ~,The part phyed by the Sacred Humanity of our Lord with regard to this spiritual marriage seems to be that Of !e.ading the soul to if.- The relations,hip.is between the soul ~and the Divinity. In .different recorded instances of this-union,~ the divine r~ature has ~anifested itself more ~learly as identical with the Word or with. the Holy Spirit. ~ _" AI~ very close ufiion of the will with God's Will is ~the~ result of the transforming union. Deliberate'venial sins: are a~most completely excluded. The soul feels that' it' w0uld be imp6ssible to sin serio~usly. Yet there is no cer, o _~aihty that confirmation in graci is granted., St.~3ohn of theCross thinks that it is. ' But~St. Teresa holds that a fall° is possible, since there is no absolute guaranty th;it~ God.wifl continue to hold the $o1~11 so. close to Himself until death. Books Received (From August~O to October ZO) -THE BRUCE PUI~LISHING CO., Milwaukee. A Month o~ Roses. By the Reverend P. H. Fages. O.P. $1:75. Canonical -~Procedure in Matrimonial Cases:, Volume II. Informal Procedure. By .the Reverend William J. Doheny; C.S.C. J.U.D. $8.00.The Man Nearest" io .Christ; By the Reverend F. L. Filas, S.;J. , $L50. B. HERDER BOOK CO., St. Louis. Lent, By-the Reverend Conrad Pepler, O.P. $~.00." P! J.'KENEDY.~ SONS, New York. Three Reliqious Rebels: By the Reverend M~" Raymond, O.C.S.O. ~' Her Silence 8peaks. By the Rey~erend John S.'Middleton0 Ph.D, GROSSET ~,DUNLAP, New York. " $2.7.5. Men o~ Mar~tknol_l. By the Reverend James K~ller and Meyer Berger. Reprint., $1.00. " R li{gi uS pro e Si ~ a ~Seffo~nd Baptism? 3ames:E. Risk, 8.3. .\V! A~ TOLD~in. the liyes', of the early Fathers that . ,~ one of these heroic men behdd in~ vision two persons. . ~' .~receiving the grace of complete remission~ of th~ terdporal phn!s~hm_ e.~.t due to sin. One of these @as a neo- -~" phyte, the'6ther a religious assuming;the habit of .his order. Be it, fact or legend, this represents an opinion'that has held: an honored .place among the traditions, of the .religious life; " .For centuries theologians and spiritual writers have. likened; ' th4 religious profession to baptism or mar~yrdom,both ~which~car, ry with them the immediate and entire remission of the temporal punishment due to sin. 'In an article publishett in a recent issue of this REVIEW i(~Vo!. 3~ p.-28~),, Father McAuliffe explained the notion of _temporal-punishrfient due to'sin and several ways effecting its payment in this life. If the tradition about the" ,expiatory effect of the religiou~s, prqfess~on~s sblidly founded,-theq we hav~;~in the" pronouncing of th~ thr& ,.public vows, still another means Of riddinKour~elves of-o.u'~- ~ debt of temporal punishment. Some commentators on the religious life ~tate that ~the religious, profession hhs the l same expiatqry, effect, as bap- ~ tism or.martyrdom, but th.ey leave us to search for an argu-ment ,in support of this statement,. Som~ ~imply,~est their case on authority,, partic,ularly on St. Thoma~ Aquinas, -~St. Robert Bellarmine, and Suarez. It is the purpose of the pre.sent investigation to test the merits of the 1png-stand, ing tra.dition° by scrutihizing the testimony of these three emi-rient authoriti.es. 402 " REI~IGIOU$ PRO~$IION~A SECOND t~PllSl? ~ The Problem." By the religious profession we understand the pro-nouncement of the~ ,three vows of poverty, chastity,~nd obedience in a religious~institute~approv~ed by the Church. --For the moment we. ate not distinguishing .between the simple and the solemn profession. Our problem .may .stated simply in the form of a question: if a religious, in.th~ state of grac~ and free from attachment to all sin, were to die< immediately after his profession, would, his soul .~be admitted without delay fo the, beatific vision? Let it. be noted from~ the outset that we presci~id-from ~J~e',plenary _indulgence accorded some religious institutes, whereby their ~members enjoy this spiritual favor on the day that they receive the habit or on the day of their profession. Such a grant, for example, was~ made by Pope Paul V in 1606. We are considering the religious l~rofession in itsel~: and inde- ~endently of the_ remission of the~ temporal punishment'- occasioned by the g~:ant of,a plenary indulgence. -. Baptism, or the r~-birtl~ of a person into the life of.- ~ s~nctifying grace, the. sacrament of regeneratiori, remits the entire guilt 9fsin and with it the eternal and tempor.al puff-ishment due~to sin. On the neophyte, no work of satisfac- ~'tion is imposed. The c~ebt i~ cancelled by the grat(Utous applica~ti~n of Christ's own su{Serabundant satisfaction., This complete,liberation from the'bond of sin and its con- _"~equen(penaltie~s follow~ s immediately in virtuedf the per-., formanc~ of the ~baptismal rite, or, in the language of the theologians, ex opere operato. The,remitting effect of bap-~ tism, theiefore, is rather in the nature of a. free gift than one produced by the laborious procedure of personal penitential. acts. , The voluntary act by which the, martyr sheds his blood ~ in testimony bf the faith likewise produces tile entire remis-siofi of the debt oftemporal punishment, even though the 403 _.-' JAMES'E~ RISK . -, - Review for Religio~us martyr should have only 'imp~rfe¢i-¢ont-ritiom This com~ ,,- plete remission; though not the: result of a sacramental rite, ~ iS als6 prodi~ced ex. opere operato, Or as some. would express ~.--it' quasi ex opere .operato. : St~ Robert Bellarniine; in his . treatise on ,Ihdulgenees, explains this, " " ¯ "For it is'clear that martyidom is such a complete.sat-isfaction that it.can make expiation' for the guilt that has been contracted from sins, no;matter how great their num-ber ~and enormity. For, provided~ it i~ certain that .one i~: ' truly a martyr, the Church does not.heSitate to list him . among the saints and blessed, ¯even if before his martyrdom° he hadbeen coveied with many crimes." What, ofthe' religious profession is :it on a level with baptis.m and martyrdom as an e~piatory ag~ht?'" In sol'ring thd problem we gi~e first consideration to the opinion of the Angel Of ,the SchoOls.~ " ~ " ~ -OPinion of St. 7:l~omas o. ,.Commenting, on the relative~merits of the vow to make - a¯ .pilgrimage *and~ that" of entering the religious state, St. Thomas in his Summa Theotogica (2, 2ae, q.~!89, a. 3; ad3) says: ~ "The vow to enter religiom~being perpetual:is greater ~: than thw vow of .pilgrimage to the Holy Land, which is a ," -tempdral 'vow: and as--.Alexander III says, 'He ~wh~ exchanges~a temporary service for the perpetual service of religion is in no way,, guilty of~ breaking his vow.' More, ¯ over it may be reasonhbly staled that alsoby entrance into religion a man obtains remission Of all his sins. F6r if ¯b3i~ giving alms a man ,may forthwith .satisfy for his ~sins, according to Dan. iv, 24, 'Redeem thou thy sins With alms', ~ much more does it suffice to satisfy for all=his sins'that a ~ man ddvote himself wholly to the divine service by entering religion, for this surpasses all manner of satisfaction,- ever~ 404 November, 1944 ~,. REliGIOUS PROF~'S~ION--A SECOND BAP~SM?~ -that ofpublicpenance, acCording to the Decretals,-jus~ as'a holocati~t exceeds a sacrifice, as Gregory declares. Henc~ we read:in the lives of the Fathers that by entering'religion one receives the same grace as by .being baptized. And yet, if- One were not thereby absolved ~from all debt of punish-ment, nevertheless the entrance into religion is more ~profitable than a pilgrimhge to the Holy Land, which, as regards °the advancement in good, is preferable to th~ abso-lution from puriistimen~.''1 In.explo.ring the. probative value of this almost uni~ y;ersally cited passage 6f'the Ange!ic Doctor, i't is well to note carefully thephrases used. Otherwise than some com-mentators ~duld lead ug to believe, Sf. Thomas does not-mention explicitly the religious profession, that is/the .vows taken ~fter the novitiate, or the final profession,. He speaks first of all of the vow to enter religion, a vow there-fore taken before one embraces the religious life. He then ,°mefitionsth4 entering into religion four times, three of which are associated with the .idea of the complete .rem)ssion of ~ins dr of punishment due to sin, namely: l) "'It,may be reasonab, ly stated that also by entrance .into religion a man obtains remission of all his sins.'" 2) '" . . . much more,does it suffice to.sati~fg for all his sins that a man devote himself ,wholl~t to the divine servi'ce bg. entering religion, for this surpasses all manner of satis-faction, even that of public penance. "" , ~ 3 )' "'Hence we read . . . that b~j entering religion one receives the same grace as bq be(n~ baptized.:" ~ " From the° foregoing we may safely say that St. ,Thomas ~held it as highly probable that entrance into religion is ~n act of the hi~hest satisfactory value, capable of deleting the ~Cf.~The_ Summa Theoloqic-a o~ St. Thomas Aquinas, literally translated b~, Fathers of the English Dominican Province. L6ndon: Burns. Oates. and X,Vashbourne. ~V61. 14, pp. 301-302. - ~ o ., 405 JAME~ E: RISK ,a '~" Revie~ for Religious entire: temporal punishment~ due to sihl~ iind this independ-ently' 6f any special indulgences granted by the ~Church. ' Sinie entrai~ce into religion implies tile voluntary~assump-. - tion of a life of perpetual self-restraint from a supernatural motive,, it is more perfect than~a pilgrimage to the Holy. Land, which=implies only temporary hardships; and since ,it implies a complete giving of-self to God, it is more perfedt' ~- than almsgivin.g. Yet both the pilgrimage to theHoly Land and_ almsgiving were considered to have even complete sat-isfactory- value. " [t is true; as w~ noted, that in the text cited St. Thomas speaks only of the vow to enter religion and of entrance into religion; he does not mention the religious profession. -_ itself. Ye~, surely we can ~easonably argue thht if One may .receive complete pardon by entering the religious life, all the more so will he receive such complete condonation by actually pronouncing the vows: Did St. Thomas hold this opinion as certain? From o the text this is not clear. He seems to have made allowance for a contrary opinion when he says: "And yet, even if one were not thereby absolved fr0m~ all debt of punishment, nevertheless the entrance into-religion is more profit-able. " St. Robert Bellarrnine ~ Commenting on the same problem, another Docto~ c;f the Church, St. Robert Bellarmirie, says: ~ '-"Finally we.say, that~ between baptism and the pro~es-sion of religion, there is some similarity. And just_ as in ° baptism the guilt and the punishment of all sins are per-fectly r.emitted, so when the profession.of the religious life is assumed with th~ proper dispositions, it is'piously~ believed that there is remitted the entire temporal punisl~- merit, for which otherwise satisfaction would have to be made, even after the guilt has been forgiven. On-that 406 Novembbr,'1944-~'~ REliGIOUS PROFESSlON~A SECOND B,~PflSM?, acco~un.t, 'however; we _dcf not rate th~ monastic ,~rofession~s~ ahead of baptism, no~ .place, them o~ an.~qual plafie, '. For_ baptism remits hot, only the tJfinishment bur also the guilt, -hrid that we.know for certain. "The monastic profession, however, does not remove the guilt,-but only the punish-ment, and .this we do not. affirm with certainty, but it is our ~pious belief . . . "~ ,From this text emerge the following conclusibns: " )) (~Ve know,/:or certain that one of the effects of the sacrament bf baptism is the perfect remission of all the pun-isl~ ment due to sin. That the asiumlbtion of the obliga;- tions~of the religious life ~effects a, complete condonation of the ~temp0ial punishment is a pious betid and not a certain j 0pinion. - - 2) We do not, therefore, plac~ the religious professio on an equal plane with~ baptism, mudh l~ss do we rank the vows ahead of the sacrament. - .,,. The conclusions of St. Robert here-stated are cor- .roborated-by_an0ther passage of the same treatise in which he-s~ys that the Works properto the religious state; namely~' tO live c_hastely, to retain proprietorship Over nothing~ and to obey_one's superiors are conducive to satisfaction' for one's sins. ' oo . Th6 0pinign of Suarez. . Comme.nting on the,doctrine of St~i Thomas~and o(her great theologians who refer to" the expiatory capacity of the ~rehg~6u.s profession, Suare~ conte'nds: 1 ) It is rash to assert.that the religious professio~ pr~o-du& s'its propitiatory effect in sacramental fashion. (that is, ex o-pete operato), for the tradition of the Churchoand the . ~estimony of the Fathers-~offer. us no ihformation on the "~ subject. 2Controuersiatum de Membris Ecdesiae, lib. II. cap. VI. ~'~ . 407 r ~eO~ew for Religious 2) "The ai~thors inentioned m.er.ely teach-that-this. ~raceds diyinely granted tothe profession, so that,if any~- one haakes~it in.the.state of grace~ the entire debt of tem-poral punishment is remitted him. [This come~] from the divine generosity or from a ~ort of gratitude~, even though. he.would not otherwise make satisfaction proportionate the guilt. This assertion I admit to be pious.and probable, because 0~ the authority 9f the do~tors of such standing, because "it favors the religious state,.and because 'it seems fi_tting ~hat God will show that liberality, towards a friend Who has given his all to Him.' However, I admit that I dd not see a ~ufficiently Cogent proof. For St. Thomas makCs nb~ menti,on of either~h privilege or of.~divine generosity, "bu't endeilvo~rs to base :~thls effect [of "the-profession] on the excellence of that act.''a Suarez, then, ad~nits the. probability of this opinion because 6f th4 number of great theologians who see in the act of ~ssu ,ruing the religious state, or at least in the consum-mate geneio~ity of the profession, a~work of such merit to gain the condonation of the entire debt of temporal pun-ishment: Of the c~rtaint~.t of this opinion~ however, h~ remains unconvinced: The Simple Profession F~llowing the lead of these, and other, 4mi~n~nt tb'eo-logians, we may consider it as highly probable tl~at, in vir-: ttie of the self-surren~der made in the perpetual prc~f~ssion, the religious, like the neophyte or the martyr, obtains tl~e perfect remission of the temporal punishment due to sin, provided he is in the state of grace and free from attach- ~inent to sin. " May this conclusion, which we accept "as reason;ible, apply ti~ the simp!e as well. as to the solemn pr6fession? A~, ~Opera Ornnia, vol. XV. lib. ~rI, cap~ XIII. n. 6. 408 " ;Nooember, f944"< " ~ RELIGIOUS PROFESSION.-~A SECOND BAPTISM~ " the time°of St. Thomas~ whom so many authors cite as' an ,;~thorlty, the solemn p'rofe~ssion was the only°.~form, of profession kn6wn,. The approval of the simRl~ religiou_s profession, occasioned by the founding of the'Society .of -~ 3.esus about three centhries later, marked a decided :depar- " ~ ture from the existing law that the religious vows should be exclusively solemn. Hov~ever, it appears justifiable to at~t, ribute that same expiatory quali~y, to the perpetual; -'simple profession, for according to the present disposition- - of the Church, the juridicaldifferences between the simple ,_ and the solemn profession little affect the actual prosecution ~3f one's-quest for perfection in the cloister." The demerit ot~ self.surrender, the factor that probably effects tl~is remis-sion, ~s going to be qmte the same in both cases. The a~gu . ments eipressed above.should .be as applicable to the one ÷ form of profess!o~ as the other. COMMUNICATIONS? When possible, we like to have a Communications section in the REVIEW. We "think that (his adds interest and practical value. However¯ as we hav~ stated before. w-e prefer to direct the communications towards a definite topic, especi~lly a topic of ge~u~ral interest and value. Our first topic for communications was "Spiritual Direction by the Confessor." This ran "through several issues aiad was. we think, both enlightening and hellbful. \The second topic chosen was "Vocation." The third was on "'Retreats:" Com-munications on these latter subjects were also helpful, but, we believe, not so'useful as the first. ° We should like to have more communications on some definite topic, but we fihd * it hard tb choose a topic. Hence. we throw the question "'open to the hbuse." Can you give us some suggestigns regarding subjects that would provide forinteresting and useful discussions? Any ideas will be~appreciated. ; Address~'our suggestion_s to: Th~ Editors, Review for Religious. St. Mar~"s_ ;College, St. Marys,~ Kansas. 409- ues ons and Answers' Because of a slight illness, a postulant dntered ten days a{~er her class of March 24. May she receive the habit with her class on September Yes, she may. She had fully intended to enter with her class but" was prevenked from doing so by illness¯ Normally the six months should be complete. However, the prescriptions of the Code regarding the time of thd postulancy do notbind under pain of in;calidity. For grave reasons.superiors m~y shbrten this. tirrle by a few days. " In the presentcase the illness which caused the involuntary delay in~ enterin~ would be a sufficient reason to allow the postulant'to recdive the habit _ with her class, even thoughten days are lacking to complete the six -.months. . --37-- ," What ;s the obligation of a religious regarding the ordinary co.nfe.s.sor~t~ When the confessor a Sister prefers is stationed close to thd convent, may sh.e go to him rather than to the one appointed? It is the mind of the Church that religious women should ~en-erally confess to the ordinary confessor. While canon 522 allows a religious woman to go to any priest who has diocesan faculties for Women, it supposes, that this will be done drily occasion~illyoi because of~iome special reason 'of conscience, which,may persist for'a short time. Mere preference does not justify a religious woman in going to confession regularl~ to another priest stationed close to the convent. Please read explanation of this point in REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS, Mar~h, 1943, page 81. Our community doctor (the, only doctor we can consult o~dinariiy) reports to the superior on the phys,cal'con&hon and ~eeds~of. the sisters. In addition he sometimes makes known to the superior damaging facts which he ~has learned through consultation with or examineti6n of patient. Has ~ community doctor an obligation to guard even from the superior the professional medical secrets of ir~ferlors? : A doctor.has a strict obligation to guard tlqe secrds of his clients which come to him in the way. of busindss. When, in virtue of his 416 ~Offic~ he bears or d~scovers a'secret damaging to the clientbe is bound to respect i~ as an inviolable confidence. ~He. can ~reveal it only ~n. the most pressing reasons of ~he common good of s~iety demand the re~elation. Even then he must keep in mind the harm that would b~ ~one if the public-lost confidence in the prudence and silence of its p~ofessional advisers. In a religious community the house .doctor occupiesa peculiar position. To some extent he acts for the superior,'~, yho~must care for the health 0f the religious as a parent does for~a child. But.since the community doctor is the only one to whom the members of the'community can go, he must consider that the infe~or_ is h~ client. He cannot consider himself the me~e agent of the-superi6r, a~d hence enmled to reveal to the sup~or,confide~ces or damaging facts which he has learned professionally fro~ a member ~bf the community. On this point Vermeersch (Tbeologia~ Moralia, lEd. 3, q937], II, n. 649, 3) says :,."Note finally that the case ofa-religious community doctor is differentia doctor to whom the reli- ~'gious men and women have. to ~o. For since they have no choice, they ~ave a right that a strict professional secret be observed in their regard, ex o~cio." Then he remarks: '~A superior who knows some-_ ~:thing through the violation of the secret [i.e. the professional medical-secret], cannot on that account dismiss a subject against his will." Of course, since the supe~or must provide for the subject, the d~tor ~s allowed to make k~ow~ the state of the patient's health, but in such a way as to pro~ect his reputation. ~ Whaf~type of dispensation from the Eu~:harisf;c fast do rel;g;ous~and lay nurses have who are obliged to wo;'k on night duty? We have heard, ;~'thaf in some States the .night workers are bound to abstain from. solid food ~f~ur hours Before reception of Holy Communion and two hours frSm liquids. ¯Does Canon Law provide for. such a dispensation? The general Ia~ .of the Church as~ expressed in canon 858, § l, -~requires that all pe.rsons who wish to receive Holy Commdnion must fast from midnight: In paragraph 2 an exception is made for those who have been sick for a-month, as was explained in REVIEW' FOR REI~IGIOUS, May 1944, l~age 171. There are'no other exceptions as~ fa~ ~s the general law of the Church is concerned--except, of course, those .~vho are in danger ~of death and those who communicate to save ~the t~lessed Sacrament~from profanation. ~ ~ ~ The Holy See can and does grant d~ispensations from~, the law bf 411 QUESTIONS~ AND" ~NSWERS i~he Eucharistic fast in special cases. Thus there'are special d~spensa tions'for members of our Armed Forces, includihg nurses who beloqg to these same Armed Forces. 'Again;'P0pe Piiis XII has granted~ to ,the Bishops.of the Uni~ed~States special fadulties in favor of persons engaged in work of National Defense (see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. .,March, ~1942, page 1431_. We do not believe that these faculti~'s have been extended to religious and .nurses on hightduty in hospitals. The. only way to find out is to get in touch with your Diocesan Chaficery. Religious and nurses on night duty may follow standard time in compu.ting the fast from midnight: henc~ they may eat and drink up to one" o'cl0ck war time, and receiveH61y Communidn ih the m0r;n-ing. 'This was explained in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1944, :- page 213. ¯ A novlco who is amlnor owfis a sum of money which was willed %~hlm," ,and,whlch is bolng held under ~juardianshlp by {.he courts of his ~hls' {.6onty-firs{. birthday. Gonsoquontly he has never boon able any disposal oL{.hls money, which was his before en{.erln9 {'he novifia{.e. In such-a case Would {.he novice be permiffed {.o .make a provision in: his will (which will be made~ before his. twenty-firs{, birthday) {.hat this money be cji~en.% his pa~en{.s as soon as {.he courts release ff 'to him? Since the novice, though owning~ the money in question, did not. have the.free, disposal of it before entering the novitiate, he will si~bj~ct to the regulations of canon law regi~rding it. Before taking his first vows he must appoint/in administrator and determine who is to get,the annual income from the money during his lifetime.~ H~ may give this income to his parents if he Wishes, but as long as he lives he" "m~y not dispose of the capital itself without the permission of ~the: Holy See. As to the woill which he must make before taking his first vows, he is free to name the beneficiary of it, and may will this money tb his parent*s. But the will does not take effect until after the death of [h~ novice in question. Therd is widespread misunderstanding among religiou~s with simplevows regarding ~the nature of the will which they~must mak~ before taking their first vows.¯ This is owing in no small.part tO the. wording of canon 569, § 3 "as found in most texts of con~it.u-tionsoand which is taken from the authorised English translation the canons of. the Code regarding~religious. It reads as follows: "In Nooembei, 1944 . " ~ ~ "QufSTIONS AND ANSWERS " e,~ery religiouscon"grega;ti o"n the nbvice, before maki.ng profession te_mporary vows, .-shall _freely dispose by Will of all" the proper~ty, h~ a~tually, possesses or may subsequent.ly possess." The" Latin. ~ext of '~tbe Code merely states: "'testarnenturn de bonis praesentibds oboenturis ffbere condat,'" and-may b~ translatCd simply: "He shall ,.freely make a will regarding his present possessions.as well as regard-- ing those which may possibly come to hifia in the future." ~Wbile the ~afithorized translation "he shall freely dispose by v~ill" is techni-- callyocorrect, still the word "dislSbSe" misleads many. religious into thinking that they are free tO give away their possessions during t~eir lifetime. This notion is absolutel~/fals~ and is contrary to the ¯ ~meanling of the word¯''will or testament," ~which is defined, as~ "~the_ ~ legal°°declfiration of a.man's intention as to disposition of property,. etc., that he wills to be performed after his death." The will .which ~ the novice mak, es has no effect during his iifetime,.but only after his" death. Hence the term "dispose,by" WiW' means simply ~o determine'~ who is to receive his property after his'death. The novice'in question may, therefo~re, determine that his parents " are to receive the'income of his~money during'his lifetime, and he-may ~ ~ make th~.m th~"beneficiaries of his will so that they'will recei~'e the -. ~0 m_oney after his death. But if he wishes to give them this money whet, ~-~ ~iig domes into l~is full possession, on his twenty-first birthdaw, he wi!l ha,ie t0,obtain~permission to do'so from the Hol~ See, since canon ¯ o- 583;-1° forbids him to give away~his po,ssessi.ons during his lifetime;, Is{there any'i'egulafion ;n canon law regard;ng fhe f;me wh;ch musf 'elapse a~er fhe recepf;on of a converf ;fifo fh~ Church before he or she ma) enfer r~l;g;on?" If nor, please g;ve us some adv;ce on fh;s po;nf. Canon 987, 6° tells us that converts are~impeded from the recep-. "tion of orders until they ha/re been sufficiently tested acc6rding to the~" .judgme_nt of the Ordinary. This is the only prescription of the C0~ ~r,~garding~ neophytes. Hence there is no time limit prescribed, before all~wii~g them to enter religion. The determination of such ~ time~ ~ ~<'" li?~it will, therefore, be lefv to the prudent judgment of the superior ~ Who is to receive the candidate. This will depend uPon the circum-stancesof age, education, and other, conditions. Generally _speaking, it will be well to make the candidate wait at least a year after"con-- version .before receiving him. Further extension of this time w~ll _. 4'13 -~ :-. _~: , ~, ~, / ,, ', The ans~ve'r ,pertaining to the Porfiuncula IndUlgence ;n th~ last ,ssue of t_he Review for Religious (July 1_5 "1944, pp.'280-281) gave me. the ;,~- pression that Sec~,lar Tert;aries of St. Francis cannot gain this ;hdulgence ~n a parish church of the Frim's of the Third Order. Regular of 'Saint Francis ofPenahce. Has this privilecje been revoked or has ;t n6ver ~been g;~ven-for churches of the Friars of the Third Order Regul.ar? This impression is hardly justified by the text of the answer. referred to above. "The answer concerned itself p.rin.cipally with the.~ question of Religious Tertiaries (members of a. Religious Institute ~with simple vows, for example, Franciscan Sisters) gaining the In-dulgence in their own community churches and oratories. Neoer~ho-le~ s, the answer also stated that "the faithful" hence, sure. l~ Secular Tertiaries---can .gain the P'ortiuncula Indulgence in all the churcl~es and public oratories of Franciscan ~'ertiarg Communities with'simple. ~Vod~s---a fortiori, Of the Third OrderRegular, a comr~unitg°with solemn oows. ' ~o answer the question asked above: Pope Urban VIII, hy a 414 19~4~ " ~- ~ .QUESTIONS ~ND B_rief, dated~Janu~ry.13, 1643, gra~nted the privilege wher~by~all the faithful' can gain ~he Portiuncula Indi~l~enc~ in "all"churches- (public oratorles are included in wrtue of subsequent grants by the Holy~See) ~of.' the Third Order-Regular of Saint FranCis bf Penance. A~s statett~ in ~he answer referred to in the question, the ~Sacred Penitentiary on 2uly 10, 19~4, declared: "Perpetual grants of thisIndulgence given ~iia ~ny manner up to the present time remain unchanged for the~ fu-ture." Hence there is no doubt whatever that not only Secular. Ter~. ~ tiaries of St. Francis, but ali the faithful as well, may gain the Por: :~'~ tiunc61a Indulgence in :all_ the churches and public oratories of~ the ~." ~Third Order Regular of St. Francis of Penance. ' When sayln~ Hail Ma~s durln9 the da~ is if necessary to ~a~e a.bead jn one's hand to 9ain the Crozier indulgence affached thereto, or would°ff ~: s~ff;ce fo have.the rosary on one's person? -~ " Generally speaking, one must hold the be~ds in one's hand in, ~order ~o gain a.ny of the various indulgences_, attached_ to th~ recitation o of the rosary. Through a de'red:~issued by the Sacred C6ngregation of Indulgences on January 22, .1858, Pope Plus IX allowed, that when the rosary ~s satd in common by- two or rriore, personL it iuf/ice~ tha~ one.of them hold a phir of beads and lead in ~he recitation pro- ~/ vided tha_t the others abstain froth all external occupation which ~ _ ~vould impede intdrior rec011ec~ion: , In ~an audience granted to the Cardinal Penitentiary on October 20;' 19~3, Pdpe Plus XI deigned to grant that ':when_ever either ma.nu~al labor or some reasonable cause prevents" the faithful from. ".__'~ carrying, in their~hands,: accordifi~ to the prescriptibn, either ~he~ roshry or tl~e crucifix, which, has been.,blessed for the gaining of~ the indulgences dither of thee holy rosary or of the W~ty.of the~ Cro.ssl, the, " faithful may gain those indulgences, provided that, during tl~e reci-~ ration of the prayers in ques~ion,they carry~ with them in any way~ ~the rosary or the crudifix." Will yo~. I;!ea_se inform us,,.whether there is a set time specified "by ~oCanon-law for the recitation of the Liffle Office of th~ Blessed Virg!n~ "" that is, for the J.iHle° Hours, Vespers and Complin, and, the anticipated :-Matins and L~uds. ~ ~R¢l~gious who are ~bound by their constitutions to the r~citation~ 41-5 Rd6iew for Rdigidu~. ~"of t~e Little O~ce'of the Blessed Virgin are not bound by the litur-gical prescriptions' r~gardingthe time of the recitation of the~ single. hours of the Divine O~ce. T~ey may follow these times if .they wish, but they are not obligedto do so. H~re are ~he times allowed for the Divine O~ce: Matins and' Eauds may ~e.said any time after V'espers and Complin have been recited (b~t not before t~o'o'clock in the afternoon of th~ pre~ng day) up'toone hour after s~nrise: Prime may be s~i~ from dawn up" to two. bouts after sunrise, thesmall h6urs u# till boon. Vespers Complin in the afternoon (except during L~nt when ~es~ers should~ be said b~fore noon). I am d~irector of a home for Catholic delinquent boys and a member o~ the Amer,can ~Assgci~tion of Social Workers. In this field Of work, ffofte~ ~becomes necessary in the line of~ duty .to question b~oys recjardincj prob~ lems of a'strictly 'moral-nature; The feeli.ncj~is that one may'be or perhaps. i~ encroachln~ on the ricjhts of the confessor. This fedincj is especi~l!y present in fhe~are,~s.pertainln9 to tSe Sixth Commandment. Is~there any norn~, whereby social, workers ca°n tell when they are cjeHincj into areas ~hat belon~ to the confess~or? , ~ ¯ ~reli'minary to answering the question as stated, we recommend ~i'that so~ia[ glorkers read Father Ford's article, Paternal Government." .dn'cl 'Filial, Con/idence in Superiors (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, II. p. 146), Father Ford expl.ains th~ impoftant distinction between the judicial and the paternal forum. A superior (and the same-may~ be said of the social worker) act~ judiciall~t, when he questions ~ ~,ubject principally for the common good, and seeks to inflict pu'ni~b-' ment as a vindication of violations of discipline. In this case he must "r~member that ~,the boy qudstioned has a natural right to defen&him-self and to avoid "answerihg any question that would incriminate.° himself. The superioror social worker would l~e acting paterna!lV if ~ were questioning the bo.y prindipally for the good of the boy him-self (for example: to help him "avoid an occasion of sin or to correct a bad habit). In this matter the superior or social, worl~r has ~he :right to ask .any questions he deems necessary for his puri3ose, but he -must observe certain cautions. (l) He is not free to punis~ a b~y who" confes'ses guilt, except in so far'as some punishnient of'a purel_y °' 416 *Not~e~b~;, 19~4 ~_ ~ : . -.QL~ESTIONS~ _ _ AND ANSWERS~: ' - . 2. ~private nature might be judge'd a mdans necessary to l~elp the- , (2) He is-bound by a yigid 'professional sec~recy with regard to the answers given by' the boy. '(3) He should prudently¯refrain from ,~iskjng questions that'he foresees will be answered with a lie. (~)~He ~ sh6uld not ask questions concerning problems with Which he kno~s ~s not competer~t to deal. Perhaps it i~ the fourth cafitibn that causes some social workers to feel that they are trespassing on the rights of the confessor, par- ,ticularl# when they ask about things pertaining to the Sixth.Com- ,~mandment: As a matter of fact,-the confessoi has not an ekclusive righ~t to-ask such questions. But in practice it is frequently true that :6nly~priests are competent to deal wi_th conscience problems that such " questions might'reveaL The social worker, therefore hi~ own i:[ualifi~ations. In some things'i no doubt, and even in very delicate matters, he-may be c[-great help to the boys committed to ~his care: and he may put prudent~questions.on these matters without infrii~ging on the right of the cdnfesso_r. ~ ~ ~We add a final word, of .caution for ~all religious who, as ~ocial -workers or i~ ,some other¯capacity, must treat with youth about ~ sexuaF~atters. We'fhink it is important, for the good of the Church: -=th~zt they-should not underake such work without having a clear ~ ~°: unders[anding, with th~eir dwn superiors as to. what they intez~'d tb. ~-~o~: Entire religio~u~ communities, and even the whole Church iri ,a certaih locality, can ~.suffe~ -grievously -from the imprudence of-one ~erson. ~" Our nov;flare has been wffhout a mistress of novices or a subst;- ~ ~,fute fo~:the past" seven,months. ¯ The novices work with fhe professed, Sis-ters ahd wifh the'lay h~lp. "l'hey'are also allowed fo associate freely with ~:'fhe;younger professed Sisters engaged.in their preparafo~ studies. May ~e i:onsider~as valid a novitiate made und~)r such irregular ci~nd;fions? "_ ~.The novitiate is not invalidated by the~ absence 0f~i "mistreSs 6f 2,_~iz6viceS or by tFie failure ~ isblate the novices fiom the oth~'r_ Sis~ers.~ But~certainly conditi6ns like thes constitute a gravd¯abuse thht shbuld b~ quickly remedied:. _ Canon 559, which preicribes that the novitiate be made under the -supervision of a mistress of novices, enumerates her.qualities, and ~'~-demands,~hat she be free ~from all'offices and duties that might inter-fer~ with the "care and training of the n~vices, makes it. qui~e clear that ~QUES'I~IbN~; AND Alq'.SWER.S :.- ; Revieu2 for Religio~s the~'Church' considers this~" an. offi. ce Of the,. highest importance. As-for the isolation of the novic,es,-canon 564 prescribes that., ,"the novitiate shall b~e, as far as pqssible, sept;rated-from that part of the house inhabited b~ ~he professed religious, so that n6 communi--~ cation may be'carried on b~tween the novices anal professed religious except for some spec!al reason and with thepermission of the Supe-. riot 9r Master (Mistress)." . With much greater reason should inter-mingling with the lay help and other externs~ be avoided, s.ince these naturally have an outlook on spiritual matte'rs quite different.from religious novices. The ideals of ~the novices are b6und to stiffer ~,fr~m ~.such regular contact with Lxterns. Does canon Jaw permit a relig;ous Of' an active institute' to transf6r tO a clo;stered cor~munify? "~f ~o, what ;s the procedure? ~° ° By taking vows in a religious institute, a religious becomes a ~erla-ber o~f that institute and, uhder, normal ctrcumstances, should per~e- .vere in tl~at institute until death. The Church does not favor the transfer of a religious~fro~ one institute to another, since it iscon-trary to the common" good of religious societies: However, in indi-vidual cases the Church will allow such a transfer for the private" good " of the~itidividual, but she reserves t9 herself to pass-final judgment 'i.n each case. Canon 632 tells us: "No religious c~n, without authortza-tidn from the Apostolic See, pass to another institute, even(stfic.ter, ~ or from one independent monastery to another." In practice, in order to pgss j.u~dgment, the Sacred Congregation Of :Religious requires that the religious who wishes to tranifer to another institute must first find an ihstitute willing to receive him. This will-ingness'- must b~ expressed in writing by the proper superior~ Th~n .tpo the Sacred Congregation wishes to know what the religiohs supe: riot thinks abbut~the transfer of his Subject. Hence this sup~rio~r, ~also, must write a letter giving his ~incere opinion whether the trans-fer is desirabl~ or, no~. The religious~wfishing to transfer, will then"~o write out a form'al petition~ to the Sacred Congregation of Religious asking' to be transferred to the institute that is willing to receiye him, and send this. petition,~ together with the two letters mentionedabove, to the Sacred Congregation of Religious. o If a favorable reply.is received, the religious may transfer to the -,.new instftute and must make a novitiate,' during ~rhich the vows 418 - -. Nooernbero i 944 "- whicl~ he has .taken in~ the first' institute remain intact., He is bound by his vow of~obedience to obey the superiors of his new irlstifute. "At,the end of the novitiate, if he does not make profession in the new~ institute, he must return to the 01d one unless, of couise, he had taken only temporary vows, and .these have expired. ' QUESTIONS~^ND AN~WEI~S " ~" Some years ago a Sister who had. taken perpetual vows ;n our °concjre-cja~ ion appliedL for and secured the. necessary~ dispensation to leave in order to take care of her aged parents. Now the parents have died and she has-asked to be. re-admiHed, stating her willingness to repeat the ~novltlate and to do whatever,is required. May she take perpetual vows at~the end of th, e canonical year? Or must she spend three years with ~temporary vows before her perpetual profession? What is her.rank in the_~ community? - Since the Sister in question actually left the institute after having- 0brained .a dispe~nsation from her vows, she sevefed all connection with.it. Superiors will.have to-obtain a dispensation fro~no the Holy See before admitting her a second time (canon 542, 1°). This dis-pe, n~sation will be granted for the asking, since the ~Sister had a very~ good reason for leaving in the first instance, SuppOsing that the dispensation has been gr.anted, the former member ~f. the institute will have to make-her novitiate again and take temporary vows for three years before being admitted topyofes~- sion of perpetual vows. In a word she is'in the' same conditi~on as any ~other novice entering for thefirst time. The only exception will .beo that she may omit the period of postulancy, since she made it before and its purpose is satisfied. , ~ As fo her rank in the community, she Will take it in the class in which she enters, just as any other nowce does. . When, and for what reasons, should a rel;glo.u~ institute b6 divided ~;n~o pro~.,inces? For obtaining such a division, what procedure~is fo followed7 The Code of.Canon Law contains no Provision which directly forces an institute to divide into. provinces. Canon 494, the only canon which de~Is with this subject, merely states: "It pertains exclusively to the Apostolic See: to divide into provinces an institute approved 419. QUESTiOnS AI~:ANSWER$ -- fly the Holy ~e," to unite*exisfing .provinces or otherwise r~Odify their boundaries. ~to estal~lish new provinces or to ¯suppress exis_ting" ones, to separate independdnt monasteries from one monastic congre-gation'and to'unite them to ~nother" (§ 1). ¯ The decision-concerning the necessity or utility of ~lividing into provinces is, therefore, lefLto the .prudent and conscientious judg-ment of the proper superiors. The reason~ Commonly. given for' ¯ divi~ing an institute into provinces ar~ the following: (l) the culty~ of government either because of the wide diffusion of houses; or becai~se of the large number-of subj.ects;~(2) the need of a second ~novitiate--~or ~example, ,because of different nationalities, or becahse of the great distances¯ from the novitiate to the other houses, or because . of the di~cuity, even iinpos~ibility~ for one master~ of novices t~o ~ ~roperly train a very large~number~of novices. The 1~rese~t practice of the' Sacred Cdngregation. of Religious is~'to r~quire for the division of an institute into provinces that at least'roger provinces can be established, each of which will have about two'hun-dred subjects and at least four houses in which twelve or mo~e reli- :gious reside. In some institutes the~constitutions approvitd by the H01y See ~ determine explicitly.tha~t the right to petition the Holy See fpr a diyi-sion of the institute into provinces rests with the general chapter. In ~'others the constitutions grant this power to-the superior geneial, with the consent of his council If the constitutions are silent on the sub-ject, it seems reasonable for the superior, general and his council, to make th~ petition tO the.~Holy See, especially if a general chapter ~ill not be held for several ~rears. "The Holy See will then'either grant the petition or provide for a spedif general chapter to pass on the subject. 420- THE ASCETICAL LIFE. By the Reverend Pascal P. Parente, S.T.D., P'h.D-, J;C.B. Pp. viii -~ 271. B. He~:der Book Co., S~'. Louis, 19_44. $2.50. This work, which has grown out of lectures by-the author at thd Catholk University, Washington, may be said to have two distific-tions. First, it is an American treatise on ascetical theology. As the first American systematic, deve, lopment of ascetical the61ogy, itis of course v_ery much to be xcelcomed. ~ .It~ presentation of the subject seems rather brief and sketchy, leaving one with the ~wish that the writer had gone further. To some extent this wish is fulfilled in the third.p_art of 'the book (pages 181-251), in which certain-select questions are discussed more thoroughly. Numerous quotations from the Fathers~of th~ Church add to the literary and inspiratibnal value Of the work. , : o Secondly, ~:~ither Parente sets out resolutely to steer a middle course ¯ between the two.schgols of opmzon that divide ascetical and "mystical theologians. Moreover he strives to reconcile the two opposing views "'~through opportune.distinctions, whenever feasible." ,Though this volume is limited to asceticism and ~nother volume on mysticism is promised, the author could not avoid touching on certain prbblems !nvolving the differences between the two and between acquired and ¯ infused contemplation. He believes "that there is both 'a distinction and ~ a continuity between acquired.and infuse~l contemplation." " "The distinction is not essential or in the very ziatures of the two forms of contemplat!on. Rat.h.er it is to be found in the mode or, manner in Which the twb forms of contemplation are attained. . Such a difference. is l~ss than specific and more than merely a matter of degree. Acquired contemplation can and ought t0~be the aim of all who ctfltivate~spir- ~, ituality, and it is one of the principal links between the ascetical and the mystical life. On~religio_us ;*nd ascetical theology the authoi writes: "It is neces-sary for religi6us to. be well instructed in ascetical theology. Ordi- -~ naril~ they receive a thorough explanation of their vows and rule, bat bften only a superficial and frhgmentary jntroduction in ascetical -and mystical theology. Some of'them do not know any .form of mental prayer besides meditation. The impression prevails that 421 . BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew /:or Religzous_ _ ,myst!cal graces are.dangerous for both the individual and"the cbm- -mumty. The-consequence is that many are retarded or hindered in theirspiritual advancement. The position of. the religious who has been favored with-extraordinary graces becomes very delicate. A well:enlightened community is better disposed toward mystical phenomena and higher forms of mental prayer" (page 215). Father" Parente's book is suffikiently~ clear, brief, and ,free fr6m .technicalities and more recondite investigations to be intelligible religious, generallg,.-~-~.G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. A WORLD TO RECONS~'RUCT. Plus XII on Peace and Recons~ruct;om By Guido GoneJla. Translated by the Reverend T. Lincoln Bous-caren, S.J. " Under the auspices of the Bishops' CornmiHee on the Pope's Peac~ Points. .Pp. x~x -I- 335. The Bruce Publlsh!ng'Co., Milwaukee, 1944. $3.50. The Papal Peace Plan, explains "Guido Gonella, proposes as the basis for a future peace a. "f~derated society," of free and independ~ent . peoples. This "Sgciety of Nations" is to be: Constituted by all states. - joined into an organic union , b' being organized into groups of states. wl~ich groups would be regional, continental, international. All states would be equal ~fore the law, bound by the same morality that governs private action, unarmed,. committed to arbitration of all internationai disputes, wit~ all force and sanctions delegated to the authoritativd, and

Issue 61.5 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; Challenge and Response Life and Death Theory and Reality Time and Eternity SEPTEMBER OCTOBER 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 5 Revie~ forReligious belps p~ople respo~ anit b~ fi~itbful to God's universal call to bbliness . ~, Oy omaki~tff available to,~tbem tbe sp!ritual legacies that flow from tbi cbarismsof Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \Veb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mouut St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, MaD, land 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, ~\tN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distrihu-tiott, 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. view for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Fopp~ Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest Eo Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ SEPTEMBER OCTOBER 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 5 contents 454 challenge and response Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation Donna Markham OP spells out the healthy interpersonal life necessary for the women and men accepted into ministry. 462 Lessons from a Time of Distress Joel Rippinger OSB reflects as a male, a monastic, and an ordained religious on the sexual-abuse scandal in the church in order to discern the voice of the Spirit and the signs of the times in the events we have experienced. life and death 472 Choose Life: Reflections Ten Years after Five Deaths Regina Siegfried ASC celebrates the tenth anniversary of the murder of five Adorers of the Blood of Christ by noting 1) that Liberia is still in the grip of a life-and-death struggle, 2) that the paschal-mystery chari.sm of the ASCs is in clearer focus, and 3) that ASC mission in Liberia continues on. 481 Made Perfect through Suffering Marie Beha OSC reflects on the meaning of suffering seen in the light of the September triad of feasts--the Exaltation of the Cross, the feast of the Sorrowful Mother, and the Stigmata of St. Francis of Assisi. Review for Religious 494 hsory Right Relationships in Consecrated Life Dennis J. Billy CSSR applies the clear and extensive teaching on the spirituality of communion, what it means to live in right relationships with others, to the community life of reli-gious congregations. 511 Contemporary Theologies of the Vows Ellen M. Leonard CSJ compares and contrasts central ideas about religious life from contemporary writers Barbara Fiand, Diarmuid O'Murchu and Sandra Schneiders. 522 Discouragement Viewed through Mark's Gospel Eugene Hensell OSB enters us into an imaginative reading of Mark's Gospel in order to help contemporary religious communities to move away from our preoccupation with quantity and focus on the quality of our discipleship. 535 Time as Gift Carolyn Humphreys OCDS reviews how we might make time, God's gift to us, our gift back to God. 541 Heaven: The Day the Drilling Stopped Sister Mary Stephen Brueggeman PHJC reviews her changing ideas of heaven which bring her closer to the truth of our life forever with God. flep r n en s 452 Prisms 546 Canonical Counsel: Automatic Dismissal 552 Book Reviews September-October 2002 prisms L the United States the first anniversary of the September 11 terrorist attack upon the New York World Trade Center towers and the Washington DC Pentagon headquarters rouses many reflections about the changes in daily life that this vivid sad event brought about. With the subsequent anthrax scare, mail service was delayed and has never fully recovered because of precautionary restrictions on packages and letters. Any major public event-- sporting, political, musical, and even religious--now includes the aspect of a heightened security. Even more evidently, the rigorous security screening that has been imposed upon all air travelers has caused a reduction in the number of passengers, no matter how hard the major airlines have tried to entice them back. Review for Religious, too, has been affected by the September 11 events. Let me share with you how I have experienced this effect. In my fourteen years as editor, I have generally had a large number of manuscripts--unsolicited--flowing across my desk. I estimate that among them I have chosen one third for publication. But last October to January, it was as if the river had run dry. The flow of manuscripts became a trickle, and there was little improvement until the recent summer months. Why such a dramatic and universal change, including even our writers from other parts of the world? Let me offer an interpretation of this phe- Revie'~ for Religious nomenon. There is a classic book about mystical prayer, by an anonymous author, titled The Cloud of Unknowing. I do not want to talk about mystical prayer, but I would like to describe our human status after September 11 as entering a cloud of unknowing. The events of that day raised up life-and-death questions, yes, but more than that. An urge to examine human relationships, religious motivations, social inequalities, and the secularizing of world cultures came to the fore. In addition to these huge issues came the church scandal of sex-abuse by priests and the mishandling of these cases by bishops. Questions abounded, but not many ways of making an ade-quate response. In this tumultuous milieu, talking of pieties and priestly service and religious-life problems seemed unimportant or even petty. Important issues had arisen, and dealing with them seemed far more necessary than writing about them. I was reminded of St. Paul's words "we are perplexed, but not in despair." I believe that we all were caught in a kind of cloud of not knowing what to think or say. We were perplexed, but our mood was not one of despair. True, article submissions show something of a rebound in recent months. But I am under no illusions. Just as we live with the continuing effects of this day, so I believe that we will continue to find that our thoughts are being stirred in new ways, our affect is being shaped, and our choices are being challenged. We still remain perplexed. September 11 is more than a tragic event in one nation's history. The year just past has seen dyings in many aspects of civil and church life. We have entered a new era of examina-tion of our humanity in relation to one another and to God. The September I 1 event challenges the secular domination of any one culture and demands that social inequities within coun-tries and between countrie~ be dealt with in new ways. With St. Paul, we too can say that we are always carrying about in our body the dying of Jesus, the confusion that sin is and brings. But we live--and our authors are continuing to write--so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our body. Our hope finds expression in this prayer: "On each of our dyings, shed your light and your love." David L. Fleming SJ September-October 2002 DONNA MARKHAM challenge and response Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation What can be said about vocations in the midst of the " fire storm in which we find ourselves these days? How do we encourage idealistic, good-hearted, and generous young women and men to throw their lot in with us in the midst of such sinfulness and pain? Over the course of my Dominican life, when I have been particularly grief-stricken or have found myself afraid or angry or unable to think clearly about a given crisis, I have called upon my Dominican "ancestor" Catherine of Siena to intercede for me, to beg the Spirit to help me. In that spirit I summon up this prayer, written by a contemporary Dominican woman, Patricia F. Walter, to set the scene for these reflections: Fire of Exodus, Flame of Pentecost, time and again you have beckoned us into the desert and propelled us from the upper room. Melt our resistance, dispel the frost of fear. Enkindle our longing, warm our compassion, and transform us in your fiery Spirit. Donna Markham OP, executive director of Southdown, presented these reflections (here somewhat edited and abridged) as a talk at the Serra International Convention in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, on 30June 2002. Her address is Southdown; 1335 St. John's Sideroad East; RR #2, Aurora, Ontario; Canada L4G 3G8. Review for Religious Living Flame of Love, burn deep within us. Give us the strength to endure the heat and set our hearts afire. Catherine herself lived in and preached to a church in crisis. She was somewhat of a scandal in her day. She was a woman who others felt did not know her place, a woman who went into prisons, a woman who traveled with men, a woman seeming "not too tightly wrapped" as she spoke with God in strange ways, a bold woman who dared confront the pope. Nonetheless, we see in her the fusion of wisdom and love that led her to the marginalized and suffering poor, and also to the suffering within herself. God does not call perfect people to discipleship. As Catherine faced the suffering deep within the church and the suffering deep within herself, the dark side of life and of her own personality became apparent to her, and she faced it. She was not afraid to respond to God's call. "Vghen we are whom we are called to be, we will set the world ablaze," she wrote. It was in that conviction that she extended her love unreservedly to those she met along the way. Her compassion and mercy touched the imprisoned, the terminally ill, the intellectually misled, those condemned to die, and social pariahs of all sorts. Her loving determination to be true to whom God called her to be emboldened her. She found the courage to take on some of the most painful situations of her day. Catherine shows us that, even when everything is stripped away (our status, our security, our comfort), if we are whom God has called us to be, unreservedly extending ourselves to suffering people of every kind, we will fill our world with the fire of Pentecost. This is the Christian vocation. It is to this that we dare to call our young people, to be dedicated women and men of Jesus' gospel-- persons who, true to their personal call, bring healing and mercy into this broken world. God does not call perfect people to discipleship. Our Contemporary Context These days we Catholics are experiencing how suffering calls us to purification and forgiveness, how it beckons us to September-October 2002 Markham * Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation transformation. God's Spirit nudges us in our shock and sadness to open our innermost selves ever more humbly to the Pentecostal fire of conversion. We do so in the assurance that a loving and faithful God promised to be with us in the cloud by day and, in the darkness of the night, to be with us as a pillar of fire. So it was for every stage of the Israelites' journey (Ex 40:38), and so it is for this suffering church, brought low and humbled in desert days. We count on God to be with us now, to lead us forward and to call us to purification and transformation. The community of faith needs leaders who are as generous and dedicated as they are unafraid. We count on strong lay leadership, and we count too on those who are willing to give themselves to the service of the gospel as chaste, celibate religious and clergy. Our humbled and sinful church--led by God throughout salvation history and infused with God's spirit-- calls forward those who will lead. We dare to do so knowing full well that this is an extraordinarily complex time, a time of shattered trust, the disillusion of broken shards. At the dawn of this postmodern era, when we face crises in our world and in our church, we more than e~er need leaders who will counter narcissistic individualism and alienated self-reliance. We need leaders who will witness to and proclaim the healing power of a compassionate and merciful God. We cannot settle for mediocrity. Among us are spirit-filled women and men. Members of our families, they are old, young, and in between. We need to believe in the church's power to be an influence toward good; we need to pray for God to call them, and we ourselves need to call them. Rampant skepticism, pervasive questioning, and the deconstruction of authority typify this emerging postmodern era. We can neither turn back history nor simply reapply modern solutions (that worked well several decades ago) to postmodern crises. Walking along humbly and perhaps quite anonymously in these fragmented times are those who will inspire us and help us make sense of what appears chaotic and meaningless. My sense is that the only way we can survive on this planet is by countering postmodern deconstruction with gospel-focused reconstruction. The leaders of the postmodern faith community must be courageous souls willing to pose serious and soul-searching questions. Will we proclaim with our actions and our Review for Religious words the centrality of relationship with God, with the communion of saints? How will we commit to sharing faith across the community of believers, with Christians and with other persons of faith as well? Will we act as agents of healing and reconciliation in our broken world? Will we develop new ways of standing amid the tension of our differences, becoming parmers rather than adversaries in the midst of some inevitable conflict? Clearly, perhaps more than ever, we need clergy, religious, and lay leaders who will help us notice the good that we hold in common and will move us to deepened generosity, justice, compassion, and forgiveness. VCho are these people who will minister among us, this humbled people of God whom we call church? Those who can be instruments of healing and hope; those who will venture into areas of the world, or of the intellect and the soul, where others cannot or will not go; those who will walk into areas of human experience that desperately need the gospel to be proclaimed-- women and men courageous enough to let themselves feel the Spirit's fire, become deeply converted, and thereby lead others to conversion. Aptitude for Priesthood and Religious Life This is no time to settle for less-than-healthy p~ople in our seminaries and formation houses. We do not ask for perfect people, but we ask for fundamentally healthy people. A balanced and healthy spiritual life--people at home before God, with a personal relationship to God--is the basis of a vocation. Without sometimes finding Jesus in the contemplative silence of prayer, and also in activity with and among the worshiping community, ministerial life becomes hollow rhetoric and wooden routine. Similarly, as people's relationship with God must be strong, so must their relationships with others be mature, rich, and fulfilling. We all have memories of relational disasters that have punctuated the history of ministry in the church. Frightened, socially uncomfortable, hostile, and aloof religious and clergy have been professed or ordained, sometimes unwittingly and sometimes as a conscious way of filling slots. At this time we must not repeat such arrangements. Rather, we must count on psychologically stable men and women who can handle the Septentber-October 2002 Markham ¯ Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation demands of working in a church and world that are in a period of upheaval. The capacity to endure the stresses of this time, remain faithful to the gospel, and proclaim the countercultural message of Jesus' compassion and care is predicated upon mature psychological development. Relationship with God, relationship with others, and relationship with oneself constitute the basic health of ministers of the gospel. The mature human being is able to connect with others, can sometimes separate from others without becoming despondent, and can be interdependent, reliant on others. Without his intimate relationship with God, Moses could not have risked the harshness of the desert, the Israelites' long exile, without a clear home, without even the comfort of a clear destination. All the while, however, the pillar of fire was there. And it is still with us. When we are grounded in relationship with God--even when we are'not certain of the terrain we walk upon, even when we seem lost, even when we are tempted by mirages or seduced by the securities of the past--we dare to continue on. A strong reliance on God enables healthy ministers to rely also on companions in the difficult search for a true and loving response to the signs of these times of ours. Those who cannot relate, who do not have close or sustained friendships, or who are exploitive or manipulative in their interactions with others do not belong in the priesthood or religious life. Nor do stiff, distant, rigid, detached persons who are dismissive or controlling of others. Living with a damaged ability to connect with others in healthy ways, such persons are highly vulnerable to exploitive sexual behavior. As the ability to connect with others and with God is important, so is the ability to take leave, to separate from others. In the spiritual life there are times when God seems silent or distant. Spiritually healthy persons are attuned to the God of silence, the God shrouded in the cloud. Emotionally healthy individuals can tolerate separation. They do not function out of an insatiable neediness for continued nurturance and affirmation. Clingy, demanding, possessive people do not exercise ministry well. Their pastoral style is indecisive, hesitant, and largely ineffective. Good pastoral ministry includes the capacity to be interdependent. Priests and religious must be able to find God in Review for Religious the community of believers, even as they are stretched and challenged within that community. Stand-alone "talking heads" who believe their mission is to infuse knowledge and faith into subordinates manifest the worst of postmodern narcissism. Puffed-up arrogance issues from deep insecurity and gnawing inadequacy. Because they are preoccupied with themselves, their pastoral style is likely to be experienced as secretive and mystifying. The women and men accepted into ministry today must be secure in their personal identity and confident in God's incredibly persistent accompaniment, even in the nighttimes of their experience. They must be deeply aware that the mission of Jesus transcends their own self-focus. We might well ask ourselves what must occur in our admission and formation processes to ensure that those who will be ordained or professed are persons of this kind. As is evident from these comments, a healthy interpersonal life is the place to begin. In her classic book, The Birth of the Living God, psychoanalyst Anna Maria Rizzuto comments exquisitely on the important connection between people's relationship with God and their ability to form relationships with others. People's relational life--including their ability to depend on, separate from, and collaborate with others--is mirrored in their God quest and thus is the touchstone for their spiritual life as well as their ministerial life. This is evident in Moses' life in the desert, in the lives of the disciples' gathered and inspirited in Pentecost's upper room, and in the life of Catherine of Siena bringing the gospel's truth to so many. Implications for Formation When, from their personal experience of candidates, admissions board members have made positive evaluations, those judgments should be confirmed by psychological evaluations. Far from being enemies of the faith journey, the social and behavioral sciences can give candidates valuable insight and assist their continued growth, along with confirming that they have the psychic strength to handle ministry in a restive church. The Thomistic adage that "grace builds on nature" seems apt. That is, we cannot take severely damaged persons into our seminaries September-October 2002 Markham ¯ Fire and Flame, Purification and Vocation and religious communities with the expectation that somehow, if they pray enough, they will be able to take the stress of ministry today with a modicum of effectiveness. That would be unfair to both the individual and the people of God. Psychological evaluation is helpful in screening out those who have personality disorders or cognitive deficits that would interfere with trustworthy and effective ministry. After admission to a seminary or a religious congregation, discernment continues. That two-way process of determining if there is a fit between the individual's gifts and the charism of priesthood or a particular religious institute should be diligently undertaken by the candidate and the formation directors. If either party has any doubt, the process should be terminated. Serious errors are made when either the individual or the formators decide to continue the process in spite of serious concerns. The candidate who says he or she must simply pray harder in order to be happy and at peace in the life, or the formator who says "Let's give him one more chance" or "Let's send her to psychotherapy," is setting the stage for unhappiness or, worse, for future ministerial dysfunction. The discernment process must take place in prayer and serious dialogue. Wonderfully dedicated persons may not be called to a life of chaste celibate ministry. Doubts on either side necessitate making the difficult decision to terminate the process. In light of the demands of these times, other things too seem imperative in fostering healthy vocations in seminaries and houses of formation. Along with necessary courses of study, serious spiritual direction by trained directors is probably more important today than it ever has been. The general quest for meaning in our culture, people's longing for connection to the Sacred, and pervasive skepticism affect all of us and inevitably affect the spiritual life of candidates for priesthood and religious life. Assisting candidates to have a contemplative personal relationship with God and to be comfortable seeking harmony with God's spirit active in our world is surely a crucial undertaking of the formation process. Candidates today must experience a radical call to ministry. They must have a strong altruistic desire to extend themselves to others, especially those in critical need. Central to formation, and I would say crucial today, is some form of immersion among Review for Religious the marginalized, the disenfranchised, the suffering, the angry. The world cries out for compassion and healing. People yearn for the love that can cast out the terror that lurks in corners of rage and despair. Without burning desires to put lives wholeheartedly at the service of Jesus' mission, without willingness to feel uncomfortable or inadequate, ministry in the postmodern marketplace is likely to be sadly ineffective. Critical and Creative Fire It is my growing sense that we are not engaging in formation in ways that meet the needs of persons preparing to minister in this time. I wonder if we are not still imposing modern solutions on postmodern realities. In a world disconnected, divided, and fragmented, heightened attention to community-building seems crucially needed. With our seminaries and houses of formation still separated from the culture, I wonder if we are missing something terribly significant as we prepare people to be healing agents in that culture. Regarding formation, critical and creative thought is needed. Varied apostolic opportun-ities, cooperation across gender lines, and intelligent immersion in the crises of these times must be balanced by solid theological knowledge and spiritual experience and commitment. We search for ways to promote vocations, and we strive to have minds and hearts ever more ready for the fire of God's Spirit. We believe that our faith life is precious, that healing can and will happen, that there is more life than death, no matter how cold or dark things may seem. Like Catherine, we too pray that our resistance may be melted, that the frost of our fear may be dispelled, and that, warming us by burning away impurities in us, God will give us a fierce fervor that can set hearts of the next generation on fir!! In a world disconnected, divided, and fragmented, heightened attention to community-building seems crucially needed. Septentber-October 2002 JOEL RIPPINGER Lessons from a Time of Distress Inf the citizens of the United States developed an entirely ew way of looking at things in the months after 11 September 2001, members of the Roman Catholic Church in North America underwent a similar transformation in the first six months of 2002. The numbing succession of stories on cler-ical sexual abuse, episcopal cover-ups, and lay outrage over the betrayal of trust by church authorities have constituted a seismic shock, whose tremors continue within the Catholic Church in the United States. The reaction of laity and religious alike has been accelerated and imensified by the extensive media cover-age of these matters. In describing American Catholic reaction to the sexual-abuse scandal, one can say that it is equal parts outrage, sad-ness, and alienation. One of the notable and positive consequences of these events is that church authorities have given greater heed to the voices of Catholic lay people. Opinions of the laity are now received with a seriousness and sympathy that until recently were hard to detect. This development is all to the good. At the same time, the ordained in the church and those in positions of authority have been chastened and humbled more than many would have thought possible, an eventuality that few think would ever have been self-initiated. All that being said, a perspective on recent events that has not received much attention is that of religious in the church. Joel Rippinger OSB writes from Marmion Abbey; Butterfield Road; Aurora, Illinois 60504. Review for Religious More particularly, I can speak from the position of a male, a monastic, and an ordained religious. Perhaps more uniquely, I can speak as an historian whose perspective sees all that has occurred as an unprecedented watershed in the church's his-tory. From this perspective my hope is that my reflection may enable fellow religious to discern the voice of the Spirit and the signs of the times in the events we have experienced. Before attempting an objective historical judgment of this crisis in Catholicism, an inventory of personal emotions seems appropriate. The images that come to mind are of being caught in a storm at sea without a rudder or being thrown into one plot twist after another like a character in an action film. For any man who spent all of his adult years as a religious (and then also as ordained), never before these events was there a need to cope with a feeling of collective shame. If at one time vowed celibates sometimes felt that they were being distortedly per-ceived as asexual persons or just marginalized singles, now they felt that people were perceiving them as among the sexually perverse. The sense of accomplishment that for many years had accompanied their apostolic labors was now undercut by reve-lations that the very people being served had been betrayed by ministers themselves. People have long been aware, of course, that religious have in their communities a support system that diocesan priests and numerous lay ministers often do not have. I agonize over the plight of the growing number of new DPs, not displaced persons but displaced priests, men who have been removed from their assignments as a result of allegations but who lack access to the same network of healing that religious communities have and who, hounded by the press, seem to have become nonpersons like people struck from party lists in totalitarian states. For the increasing number of religious engaged in the ministry of spir-itual direction, the size of the crisis is soon evident. Lawyers and public-relations personnel for dioceses find themselves in a war zone as they face a hostile press and wounded families of vic-tims of sexual abuse. Catholic social services confront the dispir-iting discovery that their funds have been siphoned away for payments to victims of sexual abuse. Ranks of good priests find their public profile diminished and their spiritual strength sapped as they go about their ministry with the self-conscious- Septeml~er-October 2002 Rippinger ¯ Lessons from a Time of Distress ness that comes from ,facing misplaced suspicion at every turn. It is arresting to consider that among the few safe places of hos-pitality and confraternity for these persons to seek restoration in are religious houses. The Lens of History When one looks at the present crisis historically, a number of seminal issues come to the surface. The first is that nativist and anti-Catholic sentiment, so powerful in various periods of American history, has reappeared. That sentiment was clearly seen in the way that the secular press seized on the issue of sex-ual abuse. The New Yorker and National Review, the Boston Globe and the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, odd bedfellows on other topics, joined in their insistence on full disclosure and even in their misunderstandings of Catholic teaching. The confusion of the vow of consecrated celibacy of religious and the promise of celibacy taken by diocesan priests was only one of many errors regarding the Catholic Church that appeared in the press. Fact checkers could be unconcerned that some simple down-to-earth accuracy escaped their investigative radar scanning. The print media, however, paled in comparison with the television indus-try. The traditional networks and the cable news leaders were both drawn to the story. Whether it was the American cardi-nals meeting in Rome or the American bishops meeting in Dallas, the confluence of church symbolism, sexuality, and inept or corrupt authority drew coverage that smacked of tabloid jour-nalism. (One had to strain to find any voice given to superiors of religious houses or congregations. With a few notable excep-tions, both local and national networks ignored that realm of Catholic vowed life.) In all this, one wonders what direction the film industry, already given to frequent caricatures of Catholic priests and religious, might take in future screenplays involving the church. Compared with earlier periods of anti-Catholicism in American history, however, contemporary treatment is less offensive. When one thinks of the fictionalized treatment of women's religious life in The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk in the period prior to the Civil War, even the present-day embel-lished broadsides are slight in comparison. As much as the polit- Review for Religious ical cartoons that burst into the attention of the American pub-lic in 2002 seemed to lack all respect for the institutional church, they do not approach the Thomas Nast cartoons of the 19th century or the caricatures of Al Smith when he ran for president in 1928. An element of the current crisis that is a significant change in popular perception of the Catholic Church in the United States is an anticlerical slant. The American hierarchy, which until recent years had been heralded for its leadership regarding respect for life and in forming public policy on social-justice issues, was now the target of not only mavens of the media but also many ordinary Catholics. On the intertwined matters of sex and money and power, people scrutinized the conduct of the church's ordained authority figures. For those called to witness to the evangeli-cal counsels of consecrated celibacy, poverty, and obedience, there was little chance to miss the irony. While the United States for years resisted the per-vasive anticlericalism of European nations such as France, Italy, and Spain, it is increasingly evident that the status of the ordained in North America has been reduced markedly. Although this reduced status has not been felt with the same forcefulness among religious men and women, the high percentage of ordained members among the former and people's proclivity to think of both groups together sug-gest that the status of religious in Catholic eyes will be not be as high as it was up to the council. Beyond any doubt, there is a growing resentment toward the clerical culture of recent years. Whether directed towards closeted decision making by bishops or towards an air of unassailable authority among local priests, resentment is real and not restricted to feminists or to lay men and women with liberal agendas. Establishing the extent of this resentment by opinion polls would not seem as pressing a need as dealing with discernible causes of such resentment. It is hard to gauge just how powerful the media were in generating adverse public opinion against the Catholic Church Nativist and anti- Catholic sentiment, so powerful in various periods of American history, has reappeared. September-October 2002 Rippinger ¯ Lessons from a Time of Distress Scandalous behavior on the part of the clergy and religious, and also closeted policy making on the part of bishops, have been recurrent themes of American Catholic history. in the face of so much questionable behavior. Today's media have no real historical antecedent. The media treatments of Watergate and Humanae vitae provide matter for suggestive comparison but not for accurate assessment. In the public eye, the hierarchy and its representativesappear to have suffered an erosion of credibility that is without parallel. Insofar as this will have an effect on the church's image as a whole, it is bound to undermine the perception that ordinary Catholics and others have of members of religious congregations. Another historical perspective worth noting is that scandalous behav-ior on the part of the clergy and reli-gious, and also closeted policy making on the part of bishops, have been recur-rent themes of American Catholic his-tory, not merely developments of recent years. One strains to see such histori-cal awareness present in assessments of today's situation. Before the screening mechanisms of today, communities of men and women religious often took in individuals whose pasts were at best questionable. When sexual promiscuity or the misuse of alcohol occurred, typically it would take place outside the cloister and.involve the clergy in their pastoral assignments. When such misconduct became known publicly, the tolerance of the faithful was amazing, especially when the perpetrators would be reassigned to other parishes or missions. Therapeutic interventions and the reporting of specifically criminal actions to civil authorities were absent as procedural options until recent decades. Even many years after these events, historians found themselves frustrated by the selective purging of pertinent correspondence or data in community and diocesan archives. The upshot was that the press did not have access to records in the manner that exists today. In addition, there was an understanding that journalists would not cross a line in regard to investigating Catholic Church institutions. The culture that produced Hollywood's idealized images of priests and religious Review for Religious portrayed by Spencer Tracy, Bing Crosby, Loretta Young, Gregory Peck, and Ingrid Bergrnan did not deem it appropriate to uncover the darker side of that image. New Aspects of the Present Crisis One striking irony in the unfolding of recent events in the sexual-abuse scandal is the supporting cast that came into the public eye. The pray, pay, and obey lay people of the preconciliar era had now acquired positions of power and influence within the church. So, although the persons accused of criminal or immoral behavior were almost exclusively male and ordained, the church voices being heard were largely lay and even female. Women religious serving as chancellors (coordinating the func-tioning of diocesan offices) were asked to speak for the church. Lawyers, whether representing victims or perpetrators, pro-fessed their Catholicism and often a background of Catholic education. Catholic education, in fact, has had a role in the overall picture of the current sexual-abuse crisis. The primary apostolic work of many religious communi-ties, religious education has proved to be the very venue in which much sexual abuse took place. The large-scale lawsuits instituted against orders in Canada and the United States (to say nothing of Ireland and Australia) for systematic victimization of students signaled how vulnerable these institutions had become. The moral scandal in all of this seems to have been more the sin of omission by persons in authority who failed to intervene than the sexual crimes themselves. Some critics took note of the lack not only of moral integrity among administra-tors of Catholic schools, but also of a professional stance and adequate structures to deal with such criminal behavior. In both cases, administrators of religious schools were forced to admit to a complicity in allowing perpetrators of abuses to continue in their work. This situation pointed to a real deficiency in religious for-mation as well. Just as the sexual-abuse scandals in the United States in the last half of the 20th century indicated the flawed formation provided for many priests in seminaries, so too the formation programs of religious communities do not appear to have prepared people well for celibate commitment. Celibacy September-October 2002 Rippinger * Lessons from a Time of Distress and sexuality in formation programs were usually treated only in a general and allusive way that was felt to be circumspect, seldom with a candid and detailed explanation of realistic areas of struggle. An even sadder irony is that considerable numbers of vocations to the religious life were themselves sexually abused. Fear of divulging any information about such abuse only made the climate of conflicted feelings and shame more pronounced. Maintaining that secret and carrying the hurt of their past exacted a price that religious orders are only beginning to real-ize. As important as the vow of consecrated celibacy was for the identity and witness of all religious, it did not "keep up" with the culture. The sexually saturated American culture since the 1960s sent people to religious houses with sexual experience and atri-tudes that were considerably removed from, if not at cross pur-poses with, the ascetical tools they were expected to acquire in their spiritual life. For many generations, candidates came to religious com-munities at an early age and led lives sheltered from the wider world. In recent decades, more mature (that is, older) candi-dates with more education and more independent and sophis-ticated career experience made for an entirely different set of expectations. As much as Generation Xers and the millennium generation were recognized as requiring a new manner of for-marion, especially for developing the skills required by a celibate commitment and for developing a deeper understanding of their sexual identity, formation programs that provided this were the exception rather than the rule. Sadly, too, the emerging need in the last decades of the 20th century to assist older religious who had awakened to their sexuality as a more complex reality than they had previously realized was typically overlooked or ignored by religious communities. In recent years there has been tension and conflict between the discipline of psychology and the more traditional skills of the spiritual life such as fasting, mortification, and a deepening prayer life. Too frequently the matter appeared as an either/or proposition. Either one bought into the therapeutic model and relied upon the work and recommendations of trained clini-cians to deal with misbehavior, or one thought that only an ascetically proficient religious could be trusted to give effective witness. In truth, both the discipline of psychology and the tra- R~vie~ for Religious ditional methods of acquiring gospel holiness were needed as partners, not opponents. Religious superiors, many of whom had trained therapists in their communities, began to see the need to model such a partnership. Another facet of religious life that has been accentuated by the distressing events affecting the larger church has been, for want of a better term, a sense of entitlement. Part of the judg-ment rendered on the American ~riesthood by contemporary observers is that ordained men have generally been encouraged to see themselves as special, people having a status that put them on a pedestal. The connection of this attitude with nar-cissistic behavior and a feeling of deserved entitlement is not hard to make. The same holds true for the attitudes of exclu-sivity and domination that were attached to the role of the ordained. Insofar as religious communities, consciously or unconsciously, adopt such attitudes, they play into the hands of those who want to write them off as irrelevant to the modern world. One of the commonly employed descriptions of religious life in the last forty years of renewal has been its prophetic role. The term implies a forceful, unsparing, and honest stance in the face of evil or oppression. The fact that the veil on much of the evil behavior in the Catholic Church had to be lifted by persons and institutions outside it says much about consecrated life's complicity. For many years, communities and congrega-tions expended much energy and resources on the small minor-ity of the "troubled." It became standard operating procedure to deal with such matters in the closed circle of community. The reasons for this seemed evident. First of all, only the superiors would have all the facts to make the decision. And there was the need to respect both promised confidentiality and the good name of the institution. Somehow this learned behavior was able to compromise any impassioned effort to deal with the issues underlying these cases of moral failing and misbehavior. How much of the moti-vation behind this was because of religious obedience and humil-ity and how much of it was indifference and a desperate desire to preserve an image is hard to say. But the fact remains that few voices of prominence from the ranks of religious (one thinks of the Dominican Father Thomas Doyle, whose recommendations September-October 2002 Rippinger ¯ Lessons from a Time of Distress on sexual abuse to the American bishops in 1985 were largely filed away) were willing to play David against the Goliath of the church hierarchy. In some respects, many church authorities, when confronted with the revelation in early 2001 of sexual abuse of religious women in Africa by church figures, were other instances of not wanting to hear the prophetic voice. The history of religious life tends to teach that the minis-terial needs of each generation change, and so religious com-munities have to adapt to those needs. The church today would do well to prepare a good number of compassionate and com-petent men and women religious to minister to the victims of sexual abuse. The great capacity of religious in previous eras to form new ministries and institutions to deal with changing pas-toral needs will be tested again in this case. The professional training needed to provide such personnel should be a part of ordinary programs of formation. If seminaries throughout the United States are now committed to detailed screening and comprehensive instruction in the area of sexuality and celibate skills, religious communities should do no less. Historians can also be of assistance in future years. When one reads the available popular or scholarly histories of reli-gious congregations and communities in the United States (and they are many), one searches largely in vain for any serious or systematic discussion of sexual misbehavior, or of substance abuse and severe emotional problems. Part of the reason for this, as alluded to earlier, is that much of the record of such activity has been expunged from archives and other records. But there is no evading the truth that such scandals have had an influence on the character and development of many commu-nities and congregations. A beginning needs to be made towards having discreet, honest, and sensitive histories written on such matters so that the problem of silence and averted eyes no longer prevails. In the history of the modern church and modern conse-crated life, real transformation and spiritual progress have almost always been initiated by outside events. The Protestant Reformation and the French Revolution's destruction of reli-gious houses had positive effects within the Catholic Church. Reformed congregations and new houses of religious emerged to confront the new challenges of the time. Review for Religious The situation today, in the church and in North American relig!ous life, has similarities with those earlier historical moments. As much as the current crisis contains elements that are entirely new (for example, the mass media that shape much of public opinion and the "age of litigation" that surrounds the church in the United States), there nonetheless is much to learn from both the distant and the immediate past. New voices must be heeded, and a new genera-tion of leaders will be needed to change church and com-munity structures that have failed. To accomplish that daunting challenge, they must preserve the best of tradition and listen more carefully than their predecessors to the lessons of the past and the voice of the faithful around them. New approaches to ministry will be proposed, and they will enlist the ranks of religious women and men to The church today would do well to prepare a good number of compassionate and competent men and women religious to minister to the victims of sexual abuse. redirect their commitment and their resources. A new paradigm of formation in religious life must more realistically and pro-foundly prepare people to live a celibate commitment. Such a paradigm will blend the distinctive charism of tradition with the revised understanding of how religious life at the dawn of the new millennium has been changed unalterably by yet another tectonic shift in the geography of consecrated life. The proto-cols of the past (whether they be called secrecy, damage control, or protecting the institutional image at the expense of individ-uals) have been found wanting. It is incumbent upon the present and future generations of religious to effect a conversion wor-thy of their vowed commitment. September-October 2002 life and death REGINA SIEGFRIED Choose Life: Reflections Ten Years after Five Deaths Ten years ago five Adorers of ~he Blood of Christ were murdered in Liberia, where the congregation had had missionaries for twenty-two years. It seemed then that the deaths ended what the sisters had worked hard to build. God, though, told us long ago: "I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live" (Dr 30:19). Now, ten years later, some of the picture does not look nearly as bleak as it did in 1992. Three things are more obvious now than they were when the five Adorers were killed on 20 and 23 October 1992. One is that Liberia is still in the grip of a life-and-death struggle; another is that the paschal-mystery charism of the ASCs is in clearer focus for many members. The third is that the ASC mission in Liberia has not ended with the deaths of the five missionaries. Commemorating the tenth anniversary and celebrating the lives of the five murdered ASCs, this article focuses not on their deaths Regina Siegfried ASC last wrote for us in our May-June 2002 issue. Her address is Department of Theological Studies; Saint Louis University; P.O. Box 56907; St. Louis, Missouri 63156. Revi~'w for Religious but on the situation in Liberia and on the valiant spirits of people there who continue their legacy. The community's mission in Liberia began in 1970 in the coastal village of Grand Cess, in the Cape Palmas diocese. By 1984 the Adorers had eleven sisters ministering in Gardnersville (a suburb of the capital city, Monrovia), in Kle, and in Grand Cess. In 1989 civil war broke out, with Charles Taylor leading the rebel forces. Allegedly, rebel soldiers shot Joel Kolmer ASC and Barbara Ann Muttra ASC on a Tuesday, while they were on a short automobile journey away from their Gardnersville convent, and three days later other rebels came to their convent and shot Kathleen McGuire, Agnes Mueller, and Shirley Kolmer. My community has had ten years to assimilate those stark facts, to grieve intensely, to remember lovingly, and now to celebrate gratefully those lives generously poured out. Liberia Ten Years Later To keep these five deaths in perspective, it is necessary to realize that, since 1989, 200,000 Liberians have died; 800,000 more are refugees in neighboring countries and elsewhere. More than 1 million Liberians are internally dis-placed within the country. All of the country's infras-tructure lies in ruins and the economy has collapsed. However, leaders of the seven warring factions in Liberia are engaged in a lucrative underground econ-omy. In June 1996, deputy assistant secretary of state for African affairs. Ambassador William Twaddle testified before Congress that the National Patriotic Front of Liberia alone may have made $75 million a year from the sales of Liberia's timber, iron ore, rub-ber, gold, and diamonds.' The murder of Liberian President Samuel Doe in 1990 brought intense civil war. The seven Adorers then in Liberia fled the country. By March 1991 Sisters Shirley Kolmer and Joel Kolmer returned and were followed in August by Sisters Barbara Ann and Agnes and by newcomer Sister Kathleen. The sisters worked with youth to help them refocus their lives after fighting at too young an age. September-October 2002 After the sisters' deaths in 1992, fighting .continued to devastate the country. In September 1996 Ruth Sando Perry headed the Liberian New Transitional Government. During that same year armed conflict once again erupted in Monrovia, but by August the warring factions signed the Abuja II Peace Accord. Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf opposed Charles Taylor, leader of one of the factions; he defeated her for the presidency in May 1997. On 14 March 2001, testifying before the House International Relations Subcommittee on Africa, Senator Russ Feingold unequivocally labeled him a war criminal: "We have all read the appalling accounts of atrocities committed in the region. I believe that some of the responsibility for these terrible abuses rests upon Charles Taylor's shoulders. In fact, I believe that Liberian President Charles Taylor is a war criminal." Jeffrey Bartholet's in-depth article and analysis of Taylor in the 14 May 2001 issue of Newsweek argues that Taylor is "a dictator adrift . He maintains the faCade of democracy, while ensuring that no one threatens his power" (p. 31). In May 2002 the International Herald Tribune reported that fighting had once again broken out in Monrovia. Taylor's government troops attempted to quell a rebel offensive. Adding to Taylor's self-serving indifference to the plight of the people of Liberia are other grim conditions that compound the misery: child soldiers, illegal diamond trade, crumbling and destroyed country-wide infrastructures, and deforestation of a once breathtakingly beautiful and fertile land. Boys orphaned by the war joined factions that offered promises of booty, power, and the glamour of guns. Girls became the mistresses and servants of older soldiers, with rape and resulting pregnancies fo~ girls too young to be mothers. Some children were forced to kill as part of an initiation rite and to ensure their complicity and loyalty to a faction? With the theoretical peace of August 1996, many of the child soldiers were disarmed. But taking guns from children does not mean they are educated, prepared with skills, or rehabilitated for society. Often with no parents, no home, and no school to return to, these child soldiers were well on the way to becoming today's lost young adults. In assessing the plight of the child soldiers, Stephen G. Price, of the office of justice and peace for the Society of African Missions, has written: Revie~a for geligio~,s Rehabilitation requires some kind of reconciliation in the larger Liberian society, where the atrocities of war experience can be faced in some way, and a means of living with the memory of them is achieved. It also involves responsible persons hearing young fighters tell their own stories of personal involvement. The grief, terror, and guilt will be a huge emotional burden, and a bomb waiting to explode again, if it is not expressed.3 Although the war may be technically over in Liberia, the fighting and refugees have spilled into neighboring Sierra Leone. That country's Revolutionary United Front smuggles diamonds through Liberia, where Charles Taylor reportedly takes a cut of the pro~fit.4 The African Faith and JustiCe Network newsletter of March 2001 reports that nongovernment organizations and the United Nations have succeeded in getting the diamond industry to commit itself "to rapidly developing a Certification of Origin system that would allow global markets to exclude diamonds originating in civil-war situations. However, the industry has moved slowly to implement this commitment, prompting more active calls for UN or government action" (p. 5). The same newsletter says that fighting over diamonds has closed so many clinics and pharmacies that people are unable to get appropriate drugs or treatment for common, easily treatable illnesses. Child soldiers, illegal diamond smuggling, and ordinary Liberians without ordinary social services and a working infrastructure--all are signs of death, destruction, and general mayhem. But only on one level. Liberians continue to choose life; the forces for life outnumber the seemingly grim, death-dealing, and nearly hopeless situations they face every day. Their natural tendency toward optimism and a God-centered hope sustain them. Nongovernment organizations such as Catholic Relief Services, the Society of African Missions (SMA fathers), other missionaries, But taking guns from children does not mean they are educated, prepared with skills, or rehabilitated for society. September-October 2002 Siegf!'ied ¯ Choose Life the Africa Faith and Justice Network, Senator Feingold's testimony, the clean diamond act, and programs such as Development, Education, and Leadership Teams in Action (DELTA) and Development Education Network-Liberia (DEN-L) are slowly, surely, and quiedy restoring life to this country. Located in Gbarnga, Bong County, and committed to training lay leaders to "promote grassroots participation in sustainable development and good governance,''5 DEN-L trains workers, community leaders, and unionists to analyze local and national situations and to network, advocate, and work for a Liberia where life is sustainable. DEN-L is but one example of an organization staffed by fearless committed people who envision a country where peace and reconciliation bring new life. The ASC spirit lives on in lay associates who still gather to pray, to remember, to celebrate. Lay people now staff the Catechetical Village Leadership Training Center in Kle, Bomi County, begun by Antoinette Cusimano AS in 1986. The sisters' house in Gardnersville is a clinic. Five Liberian brothers staff Sister Shirley Kolmer School in Barnersville. Sister Kathleen McGuire School is a newly built structure in Cooperfarm, a village near Monrovia. The work of Sister Barbara Ann in healthcare is continued in Tubmanburg and Kle and many surrounding villages by a nurse trained by Barbara Ann and her staff. Another aide trained by Barbara Ann works in the clinic in Kle; the clinic had been the sisters' home. Since it is the custom of the Liberians to name their children after some persons important to them, some Liberian girls now answer to the names of sisters who served in Liberia, including the slain sisters. Despite it all, perhaps because of it all, the spirit nurtured by the five ASCs and other ASC missionaries lives in the people who carry on their legacy without their presence. The missionaries have risen in the people. ASCs Ten Years Later The sisters have risen in the people of Liberia. How do their spirits live in the congregation of Adorers of the Blood of Christ? The answer to that question impels us to focus on the charism, our legacy from Maria de Mattias, founder of the Adorers. The Review for Religious Constitution of the Adorers of the Blood of Christ is quite clear about the charism: Our charism as Adorers of the Blood of Christ is deeply rooted in the death-resurrection mystery of Jesus. Ours is a paschal identity, signed in the blood of the Lamb. As a congregation we are to bear witness in hope and joy to the living presence in our world today of Christ's redeeming love, which gives meaning to human suffering and can render it powerfully liberating and life-giving. (§22) Shaped by and immersed in this basic mystery of Christianity, the Adorers expect this "paschal identity" to permeate their corporate and personal lives. Baptized into the life and death of Jesus, vowed to God as sisters in a congregation whose constitution encourages its members to be "ever more credible witnesses of God's tender love, of which the blood of Jesus is vibrant sign and unending covenant pledge" (§3), the paschal-mystery charism of the Adorers found stark reality in the lives and deaths of the sisters in Liberia. These five credible witnesses lived and died the charism. Charisms of communities are wild, fiery, free, hard to control by law and institutionalization. If this is true of eharisms in general, it is certainly true for the Precious Blood charism, which pulses with the life of the paschal mystery, urging contemplation, speech, and action, impelling us to mission.6 The Precious Blood charism is rooted in historical times that were rife with political and social unrest. Injustice for the poor of society was so common that it was not given much consideration except for the countercultural founder who was on fire with the gospel message of God's reign. Fire and passion for the mission, the urgency to be with the marginalized of society, pushed our founder and our pioneer members to take risks that appeared foolish to the complacent. These are the same qualities that urged five Adorers to return to Liberia in the face of evidence that pointed to staying home, staying safe. Such vision demanded conversion on the part of Maria de Mattias and of the five killed in Liberia. It calls for the same in us. Joe Nassal CPpS writes in a similar vein when he says: To be a disciple of the Precious Blood today is. to stand with those of Matthew 25: the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the ill and im- September-October 2002 Siegfried ¯ Cboose Life Our sisters died because of what they believed in-- God's love for all people, especially the poor and suffering. prisoned. This implies that, when we stand with those who are at the margin of our society, we are no longer in the center ourselves. We allow those with whom Jesus identifies to pull us out of our cozy and comfortable cocoons into the real world where pain and suffering is ever present.7 Ten years ago grief was too raw, tears and disbelief too close, for comfort. But ten years have given the Adorers time and space to contemplate the mystery of those terrible days in late 1992. Life has indeed gone on. We know the slain sisters would expect us to get on with the mission. But, for many Adorers, "getting on with the mission" meant and means soul-searching, questioning, pondering the paschal mystery in a new light. Contemplation of Jesus' life with a focus on the paschal mystery means reflection on the reality of blood poured out for the sake of others. The fact and the symbol of Jesus' shedding of blood calls Christians, especially congregations dedicated to the Precious Blood, to consider the totality of a life gift, the meaning of giving all even to the point of death. From a pragmatic view, both Jesus and the sisters killed in Liberia were in the wrong place at the wrong time, yet they stood up to the wielders of power and the forces of destruction. The disciples of Jesus, like the Adorers, needed to theologize about the meaning of seemingly meaningless deaths. Marcia Kruse, a U.S. Adorer,s reflects that: "Actions and events become signs or symbols of a deeper meaning. Our sisters died because of what they believed in--God's love for all people, especially the poor and suffering. Their lives and deaths are symbols, examples of total giving, and that total giving is what we are called to." Wherese Wetta, another Adorer from the United States, writes: "Five of our Adorers had given their very lives because of their solidarity with the Liberian people. The sisters knew that Review for Religious the Liberian people were brothers and sisters to us, redeemed by the Blood of Christ and sacred in God's eyes." Mini Vadakumchery, an Adorer from India, communicates in the same vein: "They offered themselves as a living sacrifice and answered the cry of the poor. Today I . . . am ready to risk and challenge my life in any situation." Violence, political and social unrest, and neglect of the weakest in society are streams that run through the time of Jesus, through the 19th-century founding of our congregation, and through today's world--the living and dying in the present-day neglected country of Liberia being a prime example. But another stream of compassion, standing with, and advocacy mingles with those deeply stained waters. Whenever people throw in their lot with the disenfranchised of society, with those who need our presence as much as we need theirs, then the saving power of Jesus finds a home, and everyone finds a home. The stream of life weakens the stream of death. This is the cycle of paschal-mystery theology--life ultimately means resurrection. The wood of the cross had its effect on bitter desert water, as Moses experienced typologically at Marah: "He cried to the Lord, and the Lord showed him a tree, and he threw it into the water, and the water became sweet" (Ex 15:25). This is part of paschal-mystery theology. Jesus came that people may have life and have it to the full; this means going beyond the bitter and the sad, beyond death, to resurrection, that joy beyond joys. Matija Pavic, one of the Adorers in Croatia who lived amid ¯ the war and destruction in that country, writes in a similar vein: Since their martyrdom I can say we feel greater closeness among us, at the level of the province and of the congregation as well, as if their martyrdom itself strengthened and drew us together, waking us up to the seriousness of our life commitment at the same time. We experienced the truth of the word that we are called to witness to Christ even to shedding of our own blood. We were overwhelmed by feelings of worry, compassion, and prayer; it was as if th¢:ir suffering spilled over into us. At the same time we were sure that their blood was not shed in vain. We know that it will be a new seed for the kingdom of God here on earth.9 September-October 2002 Sieg?Cried * Cboose Life The congregation continues to choose life. Many of us are ministering in the same areas that we were ten years ago, but the awareness, the consciousness, is deeper than before the events in Liberia. As a United States province we offer more assistance to victims of violence, are more attentive to women and children and to work with refugees. Today the charism has taken on a new dimension of reconciliation. We want to be reconcilers in our torn world, living the life, death, and peace of Jesus where we are and seeking out areas where reconciliation is needed. Life is precious; we cherish each other and try not to take one another for granted. If we are to become our charism in our society, we must respond to the call that the charism voices in our hearts. The paschal mystery invites us to life through death. It is our legacy to insure that the spirit of the sisters killed in Liberia lives in us as vibrantly as it does in the people of Liberia, whose lives they touched graciously, joyously, and effectively. Notes ~ Ezekiel Pajibo, "Liberia: A Brief Overview," Africa Faith and Justice Network, March 1977. 2 Stephen G. Price, "Child Soldiers in the Liberian War," SMA Office of Justice and Peace, March 1997. 3 Price, "Child Soldiers." 4 Washington Post, 17 April 2000. s Taken from "Information about the Development Education Network Liberia." 6 Some of the ideas on paschal-mystery charism are taken from my article "The Missionary Heart," Review for Religious 54, no. 6 (November-December, 1995): 913-917. 7 Joe Nassal CPPS, Passionate Pilgrims: A Sojourn of Precious Blood Spirituality (Carthagena, Ohio: Messenger Press, 1993), p. 17. 8 Adorers worldwide were invited to submit reflections on the effect the sisters' deaths had on them. Some of their comments are included in this article. 9 Translated by Viktorijika Tomic ASC. Review for Religious MARIE BEHA Made Perfect through Suffering ISn the days immediately after the terrorist attack of 11 eptember 2001, the liturgy celebrated--yes, "celebrated"-- a familiar cycle of feasts: on 14 September the Exaltation of the Cross, the next day the feast of the Sorrowful Mother, and two days later the commemoration of the Stigmata of St. Francis of Assisi. This triad has always touched my heart, but I never really understood the reason. Last year the cycle's themes grew in clarity as, in the light of the September tragedy, the why of suf-fering demanded deeper answers. So many innocent people had died, so many others suffered multiple losses, and so many of us, perhaps all of us, had our lives, our attitudes, changed. As has been said over and over, "nothing will ever be the same." Amid all this, what was the liturgy asking us to celebrate? How did these past events touch the present of our suffering? What did it all mean? Exaltation of the Cross The very titling of the feast holds paradox. If familiarity were not dimming the challenge, we would all be aghast every time a cross is exalted to a place of honor in a church or home, every time it is raised up in blessing. Unfortunately, we take Maria Beha OSC, frequent contributor to our pages, lives at the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Septe'mber- October 2002 Beha * Made Perfect through Suffering this linking of cross and glory for granted. After all, it is the cross of Jesus that we are lifting up. Familiar religious senti-ment blunts the starkness of the reality. But what about our own suffering? Could that be lifted up? This was my question. As I explored the readings for this feast, they only height-ened the cross's mystery, inviting us in the entrance antiphon to "Glory in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" and stressing in the preface that God has "decreed" that we should be "saved by the wood of the cross." As I pondered the paradox of these too familiar phrases, still others came to mind. "It was fitting that God . . . in bringing many children to glory should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect through sufferings" (Heb 2:10). And, equally mysterious, "he learned obedience through what he suffered" (Heb 5:8). Suffering redeems. That is what the phrases proclaimed, what I had always heard and said. But was it what I believed, what I had experienced? To raise the question in the first person singular was to realize just how much ambiguity remained in my act of faith. Certainly I believed that the suffering of Jesus was redemptive; that was unquestioned bedrock. But what about human suffering, other people's as well as my own? Specifically how did the tragedy of 11 September hold potential for redemp-tion? And how about the bone-wrenching pain of my friend so seriously injured in a near-fatal auto wreck? And the grief of a single mother whose three small children died when flames swept through their trailer home? The examples easily became an almost endless litany.of human misery and grief. I began to feel myself slipping down into a vortex of tragedy that could only paralyze. I hurried back to Jesus and the exaltation of his cross. From the beginning of his ministry, Jesus revealed God's compassion for human suffering. Just the sight of the grieving widow at Naim was enough to call forth a life-giving response. Jesus took the dead man by the hand and "gave him back to his mother" (Lk 7:11-17). No one had asked Jesus to do anything. It was as though the mother's suffering compelled him to act. And how many times throughout the Gospels Jesus responds to pain in the same way, healing lepers, the blind, the deaf, the lame. As Mark says, "wherever he put in an appearance, in vil-lages, in towns, or at crossroads, they laid the sick in the mar-ketplaces and begged him to let them touch just the tassel of Review for Religious his cloak. All who touched him got well" (Mk 6:56). Others ~possessed by demons, many of whom we would today consider emotionally ill, also called forth Jesus' compassion. He drove out the demons, freeing those who had been in their grip. In word and deed Jesus tells us that God is on the side, not of suffering, but of new life, freedom, health, healing. In other words, suffering is not to be gloried in but rather to be worked against. In the end time of a "new heaven and a new earth [God] will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more" (Rv 21:1, 3-4). This is where we are going, but the life and death of Jesus amply testify that suffer-ing is integral to our ever arriv-ing at that kingdom of glory. While working against suffering in the life of others, Jesus also accepted it in his own. He real-ized early on that responding to God's call would bring suffer-ing, not only to himself but also to those whom he loved. From the beginning of his ministry, he warned his disciples of his coming passion and rebuked Peter sharply for refusing to accept this reality: "Get behind me, Satan" (Mt 16:23). Even the everyday of Jesus' life was punctuated with the hardships of an exhausting ministry, complicated by a lack of understanding on the part of those closest to him and subject to harassment by the religious leaders. Mark's Gospel (6:6) says he was "amazed" at their "hardness of heart." How it all must have hurt him! His own family thought him "out of his mind" (Mk 3:21) and came to take him away. His closest friends, the likes of James and John, were more concerned about their sta-res in the kingdom (Mk 10:35-40) than in what Jesus was trying to teach them. On the last night of his life, his disciples' lack of understanding would degenerate into a cowardice that left him alone at the end. If suffering was present throughout Jesus' life, his death and dying were terrible: an innocent man condemned to the most shameful of deaths, done in by the jealousy of religious leaders Jesus tells us that God is on the side, not of suffering, but of new life, freedom, health, healing. September-October 2002 Beba ¯ Made Perfect through Suffering For suffering to be redemptive we must not seek it out, exaggerate it, or add to it. whose legalistic observance covered over the corruption of dead men's bones. Betrayed by one of his own, deserted by all but a handful of his alleged followers and supporters, tortured and mocked by his executioners, yet "he did not open his mouth" (Is 53:7). Even in the agony of death by crucifixion, his words were full of love for his mother, for the one disciple who remained faithful, and for the dying thief. To his Father his final plea was one of concern for others, "Forgive them, they know not what they are doing," accompanied by his own complete sub-mission, "Into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk 23:34, 46). Jesus' death summed up his lifelong attitude of accepting the suffering that came to him in accord with his prior choice. "Not my will but yours be done" (Lk 22:42) summarized who he was and what he was about. As a conse-quence of this first love, Jesus responded to the suffering in his life in such a way that it became redemptive. That is what we cele-brate on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross and what we must experience in our own salvation history if we are ever to embrace the mystery of suffering. Have we ever, perhaps only in retrospect, seen something painfully difficult become redeem-ing grace? I know that for me a debilitating illness that con-fined me to total bed rest for six months when I was a cocky twenty-two-year-old was grace beyond compare. During those endless days of being unable to do anything, I had time to think long thoughts, to sift through my life values and lay aside some of the driving ambition that might very well have detoured my whole religious life. I began to learn how fragile my control of events and how life's meaning had to go deeper. I am sure you can add your own experiences of the redemp-tive value of suffering: the family that finds unity and union in caring for a sick child, the marriage that is strengthened by cop-ing with serious financial difficulties, the struggle to get an edu-cation that makes learning a lifelong priority. The list goes on and maybe needs to--showing us over and over how our faith can grow stronger through the redemptive power of suffering. Revie~v for Religious But at some point the very examples we recall also reveal that suffering is a two-edged sword. Its redemptive potential is not automatic. We all know people whom suffering has shrunk into self-absorption, and we know whiners and complainers who specialize in self-pity. Many of us do not have to look any fur-ther than our own hearts to recognize how destructive suffering can be. It can occasion a crisis, with people choosing a path of lifelong bitterness, defeat, despair. Redemptive suffering moves in the opposite direction, open-ing us to others and to God. It shrinks our pain, putting it in perspective, not the stoic perspective that "well, things could be much worse," but faith's perspective that suffering is not the end, that God brings healing, health, joy, resurrection. For suffering to be redemptive we must not seek it out, exaggerate it, or add to it. Ours is not to be the self-centered pain that protests with injured innocence, "Why me?" Nor should we try to find some husk of self-satisfaction by compar-ing our burden of pain with someone else's. Each person's suf-fering is unique, if for no other reason than that this present difficulty is piled on a unique miscellany of memories and past experiences. Trustful acceptance of suffering keeps us moving in the direction of redemption and healing. Our suffering takes on true meaning when it is caught up in the passion of Jesus. In our suffering we are being invited to "complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church" (Col 1:24). Already in baptism we are immersed in the dying and rising of Jesus. What began in his redemptive act continues as we accept the cross into our own life. Each time a choice of ours says no to sin and yes to new life in Christ, we live out the possibilities of our baptism. Each time we offer God the daily bread of our ordinary lives, we present to him a living sacrifice of praise. The Eucharistic transubstan-tiation changes not only ourselves but our world. We must focus, not on our own immediate experience of pain, but on Jesus, "fixing our eyes on the head of our faith . . . who suffered the cross" (Heb 12:1). I can recall vividly a woman who suffered ten long years from multiple sclerosis, experiencing all of its terrible dimin-ishments till at the end she was completely immobilized, unable to so much as move herself in bed. When asked, foolishly September-October 2002 Beha ¯ Made Perfea through Suffering enough, "How are you today?" her invariable response was, "Just the way God wants me to be. And how are you?" I think hers was a highly personal, well-lived translation of Jesus' own faithful response "Not my will but yours be done." She did not choose suffering, but when it came she accepted it and so dis-covered grace and peace despite the pain. Compassion's Power Suffering comes not only in our own flesh but also in the pain that others must bear and we with them. In some ways this suffering-with-another is more difficult than simply bearing our own pain, since pain deepens when all we can do is stand by helplessly. We can neither prevent another's journey toward death nor live the journey for them. We cannot force anyone to choose health and healing. Demanding that someone get coun-seling is not therapeutic; hiding the cigarettes only adds decep-tion to the mix; neither leads to conversion. Yet just "being with" another seems too little. How often I have heard parents express their wish that they could wrestle with cancer themselves rather than stand by helplessly while their child endures the awful rounds of surgery, chemo, and radiation. And how much pain is added to the suffering of a dying husband or wife, leaving behind a. spouse whose loneliness they know will never be healed. People suffer the added burden of helplessness when their friends lose their job, their health, or their home. "I don't know what to say, what to do!" we exclaim, with truth. But, hopefully, we do not use such inability to solve another's problem as a pretext for noninvolvement. Perhaps this is one of the uncon-scious reasons we seal our hearts against caring too much; instinc-tively we know it will cost us. True love is willing to risk the personal suffering that accompanies compassion. If love exposes us to greater suffering, it is also true that suffering with another can open our hearts for greater love. Children who have lost their parents in a tragic accident pull at our heartstrings. Accompanying someone facing a terminal ill-ness can give us an impetus to sort through and rearrange our own values. The terrible tragedy of 11 September 2001 stirred an unprecedented outpouring of generosity, people giving because they just had to. Strangers worked together as part- Review for Religious ners. People who lived next door became neighbors. People dis-covered strength they did not know they had when others' needs called it forth. Helping someone even in ordinary circumstances can cre-ate a close bond. Just taking a few moments to greet a new-comer can open the door to a lasting relationship. Taking the first step toward reconciliation may result in a friendship cemented now in the experi-ence of mutual forgiveness. It almost seems that some expe-rience of shared suffering, of difficulty overcome, is neces-sary if relationships are to mature into true intimacy. Exposing our vulnerability, allowing another to be with us in our pain, not only presup-poses trust but enlivens it as well. We come to know each Pain and suffering offer not only opportunity for growth, but also possibility of destruction or division. other in deeper, more personal ways. Our love has been tried and is more secure because it has passed the test. Love "suffers with," and "suffering with" can deepen love-- but not always. Once again, pain and suffering offer not only opportunity for growth, but also possibility of destruction or division. The sickness of a child may lead to parental quarrels and divorce. Friendships falter and fail in the face of difficult times and circumstances. How many siblings find themselves locked into bitter quarrels after the death of a parent? And, on a larger scale, a national tragedy can initiate a cycle of blame and mutual suspicion, of escalating violence and threats of revenge. Suffering is always a two-edged sword. It reveals hearts. That is what we celebrate on the feast of our Sorrowful Mother. Mary's love for her Son exposed her to tremendous suffering, and that suffering deepened and revealed her love. "A sword will pierce your own soul" (Lk 2:35) was a promise consequent on her accepting her unique vocation. A call from God, any call from God, implies going beyond one's present comfort level. So Mary's "Be it with me according to your word" (Lk 1:38) meant that her life would never be the same. She was being asked to transcend her power to understand, control, even September-October 2002 Beba * Made Perfect through Suffering explain. Inevitably others would be uncomprehending, some-times judgmental, even condemning. There was nothing she could say or do to make it easier for those who loved her, or for those who did not. Her only option in the face of this suf-fering was to trust that the God who called was faithful. That faith would be tried when her own Son remained behind in the temple without a word of explanation to her or Joseph. "Why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been searching for you with great anxiety." Their mother-son relationship was secure enough to survive his counterques-tion, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be about my Father's business?" (Lk 2:48-49)~ Out of this suffering must have come some deeper level of trust and understanding. Still later their tested relationship would grow into Cana's fuller confidence, "Do whatever he tells you" (Jn 2:5), and all through Calvary's final hours. There their love faced its ultimate test of mutual surrender. Mary gave her Son back to the Father; Jesus gave his mother to another "son." Mary's "Be it done according to your word" .was consummated in Jesus' "Into your hands I commend my spirit." But that cry of ultimate shared suffering was not the end. Out of it came new and eternal life, pain transformed into last-ing joy. We have no recorded appearance of the risen Jesus to his mother. Maybe it occurred but was too private, too personal, to be recorded. Maybe Jesus and Mary knew each other so well that there was no need for such confirmation. What we do know with faith's assurance is that now they are united beyond suf-fering in love's joy. Compassion breaks hearts open, leaving them vulnerable to more pain but also to more love. It did so for Mary; it can do the same for us if we are willing to risk a love that suffers because of caring for another. Such love is very different from the passivity of self-centered suffering that we bring on our-selves and which has almost no value. Worrying over all the "maybes" of our fears for self or others is common enough, but it accomplishes nothing. While acknowledging that we .are wor-riers, we also need to move proactively toward more produc-tive thinking. Similarly the murmuring and muttering that runs its compulsive tape through our minds needs closure, not the self-defeating stance that allows the pain to go on because "that Review for Religious is just the way things are." Ill health, our own or other peo-ple's, is not allowed to serve as a semilegitimate excuse for imposing unnecessarily on the goodwill of others or withdraw-ing from the concerns of the wider community. Similarly, true compassion does not permit people to become victims of the tragedies that have befallen them. Contrast self-indulgent forms of suffering with true compas-sion, where an individual goes beyond ego's narrow, rigid bound-aries to reach out to others in their pain. Such self-sacrifice is life-size, opening us to love's demands, risking involvement beyond our capacity to control the cost; it is redemptive. Such was the passion of Jesus; such was Mary's compassionate love. Christocentric Suffering Fruitful suffering is incarnational. It both accepts and works against the here-and-now pain that comes into our own lives and the lives of others with whom we risk love's involvement. This kind of suffering makes a real difference in us, in our very selves. It did so in particularly dramatic ways in the life of Francis of Assisi, and this is what we celebrate on 17 September when we remember his reception of the stigmata, having his body marked with the wounds of Jesus. What happened to Francis is what must happen in some way in our own lives. Sharing in the pas-sion of Jesus is meant to mark us, to make us different. The process begins when we look long and lovingly at Jesus and see how unlike him we are. This is the sinful self that needs conversion, and such radical repentance is bound to be costly. Changing old patterns of behavior which we recognize as self-defeating, but which still offer the comfort of familiarity, exposes us to the awkwardness of the new and untried. Letting go of habits, even habits that have been helpful in the past but no longer contribute to our growth, seems as risky as a child's first steps without support. All of these changes, not only from bad to good but also from good to better, initiate a cycle of falling, failing, struggling, starting, over. It is the cross of repentance that encourages true growth. The pain of conversion, both initial and ongoing, is made more bearable as long as we feel we are in control. Determining what we are going to change, the timing, when and how much, September-October 2002 Beha ¯ Made Perfect through Suffering There comes a time when all our activity is fixed on only one point, that of obedience and surrender. means that the very self is never much threatened. And yet it is this self, which has a mind of its own, a will of its own, that must die. Growth into Christ implies obedience. Suffering that is redemptive, then, is both active and passive. These two elements are related not as contradictories, as though some pain were active and some passive, but rather as the con-cave and convex of the same reality. Living as a Christian requires asceticism. We must make a choice, take a stand, do something. Even when pain comes into our life unbidden, we are actively responsible for the attitude we take toward it. And yet suffering is not to be chosen for its own sake; it must, as we have seen, be worked against. Still there comes a time when all our activity is fixed on only one point, that of obedience and surrender. In the end we are asked to give back to God all that God has first given us: our activities, our gifts, our relationships, our very lives. But this is not where we begin. First we give thanks to the "one who has given us everything needed for life" (i P 1:3) by using whatever we have received in the service of others. And we continue to do that as long as we can, accepting the suffering that is implicit in generous service: fatigue, the disci-pline of constancy, the boredom of daily routine. We continue to give despite the discouragement of failure, of plans that go wrong, and perhaps of the ingratitude of those whom we are trying to serve. In simply doing what is ours to do, we come to know the purification of active suffering. We learn that saying yes to others includes a no to ourselves. Francis knew this only too well. His decision to follow Christ more closely cost him dearly. He lost his relationship with his family (especially his father) and with friends, gave up his dream of glory through knighthood. Kissing the leper at the beginning of his conversion meant going beyond the comfort-able generosity of tossing someone a coin. His call to preach the gospel included all the hardship of an itinerant lifestyle. Embracing Lady Poverty meant going without the security of Review for Religious possessions. Even the great number of followers who were attracted by his example brought its own suffering, complicat-ing with the onerous responsibility of administration the simple life he desired. In addition to these sufferings, Francis also deliberately practiced a demanding asceticism. In fact, he afflicted his body so severely that he ruined his health, a mistake he came to rec-ognize and regret. At the end of his life he owed Brother Body an apology and said so. But Francis's initial mistake does not mean that freely chosen asceticism is of no value. On the con-trary, the small suffering implied in such self-imposed disci-pline incarnates our desire for God and makes room in our hearts for deeper union. This was Francis's experience and that of so many of the saints. It can also be ours, if we embrace the active asceticism of emptying ourselves of some perfectly good and legitimate things in order to make room for God. Fasting is the classic example of such discipline. Food is necessary for our survival and is one of our everyday pleasures as well. Our enjoyment of food is healthy. Unfortunately, many and even most of us overeat or undereat, and that is unhealthy. We indulge ourselves, passing up the vegetables and taking a second desert. We abuse food and ourselves in the process. I sometimes suspect that a piece of fruit as the symbol of the first temptation is especially apt, since eating remains a problematic area for many people. And so fasting retains its importance as a spiritual discipline. Setting some limits on what, when, and how much we eat can give some realism to our need to die to that demanding self of ours which expects ready gratification. A reasonable fast not only does not endanger our health, it p~obably promotes itq while also letting us share in some small way in the hunger of the multitudes in our world who lack enough food to live on. What we save by cutting back on snack food, or on expensive kinds of meat, can be given away? as an immediate fruit of our fasting. On a more profound level, some experience of hunger can stir in our hearts a greater hunger for God. This is what Francis knew when he incorporated fasting into his way of life. Because his fasting was both a consequence and an expression of love, it finally came to be strict without being rigid. His severe fasts during six forty-day Lents left him //0'1 Septentber-October 2002 Beba ¯ Made Perfect tbrougb Suffering with an empty stomach but a heart full of love for creation, for his brothers and sisters, and above all for God. At the end Francis became free enough to enjoy good food, the sweetmeats his friend LadyJacoba brought him, and to exhort his brothers to rub the very walls with meat on Christmas. His fasting along with occasional feasting came to incorporate the worship of enjoyment, gratitude, and praise. Yet as time went on Francis's suffering was less and less a matter of his own decision and choosing. It became more pas-sive, something done to him where his only activity was the choice of response. Illness, aggravated by the imprudent asceti-cism of his early days and by the crude medical practices of the time, wearied both his body and his spirit. His stomach gave him almost constant pain. His eyes failed, and this man who had so rejoiced in the beauty of creation became almost blind. Even more of a heartbreak, some friars who had at first embraced his gospel way of life came to find it too much for them. They rejected Francis, demanding that he turn over the governance of the order to another. He lived out his final years in submission and obedience. Suffering abounded in his last years, and to this was added the pain of the stigmata. The wounds in his body were real; they bled profusely enough to require bandaging. The nail marks in his feet made every step difficult, and in the end he had to consent to ride on a donkey. His hands became more and more useless, and he hid them in the ample sleeves of his tunic. How did Francis respond to all of this suffering? When his eyes were cauterized, he prayed Brother Fire to be gentle with him. When his body was too worn to go any further, he returned to San Damiano, the place of his beginnings. There Clare and her sisters tried to care for him, and there in the midst of des-olation of body and spirit he composed his glorious Canticle of the Creatures: "Praise, my Lord, for Sister Moon and Brother Sun. for Sister Water and Brother Fire. for fair and every kind of weather." Yes, praise for every kind of weather and every gift of nature and grace, for the good times and the days of pain. Praise. And gratitude, because it is all gift. This is what the stigmata celebrates: not just the fact that Francis's body was marked by the cross, but that his whole life was. He embraced suffering, accepted what came to him, while Review for Religious working against it in his ministry of healing and serving oth-ers. His heart was filled with compassion for all God's creation, his own friars, the lepers, all in need. And at the end his lifelong desire to be like Christ left him marked with the wounds of the passion. What happened in his life must happen in ours, if not in such dramatic ways, at least with equal reality. Suffering will mark us as Christ's own. We will be signed with the sign of the cross. This is what I think we celebrate in the triad of feasts that mark mid September: the Exaltation of the Cross, the Sorrows of Mary, and the Stigmata of St. Francis. Each feast hints at suffering's true meaning. First of all, it is redemptive, intended to lead us into greater freedom and love. If this is to happen, we need to accept the suffering that inevitably comes into our lives, but also to move with all our strength in the direction of health and healing. And we need to do this regarding not only our own pain but the pain of others too. Compassion, standing with others in their pain, will open us to more suffering. But there is where we will want to be if we love enough. Still, it will be costly. Life will bring us suffering that we somehow choose, but also some that we do not choose but must learn to accept. This suffering will mark us with the wounds of the passion. What our little cycle of September feasts celebrates, then, is this: that in our lives suffering is redemptive both as gift and as given. This is what it was for Francis, for Mary, for Jesus. It is what the suffering that comes into all our lives is meant to be for us. Starshine Starshine is sometimes all the light we need to get our bearings. a heavenly.reminder of light beyond measure, that will not yield to the nightclouds haunting the horizon of our heart. Diana SeagoOSB September-October 2002 DENNIS j. BILLY Right Relationships in Consecrated Life theory and reality Right relationships reminds me of Anne Quirk's children's novel, Dancing with Great-Aunt Cornelia, a story about a dysfunctional New York family and a thirteen-year-old girl's discovery that her eccentric, incredibly tall, and extremely rich great-aunt is really her grandmother. Near the end of the story, the family finally comes to terms with its denial, insensitivity, anger, and odd way of relating. The reconciliation takes place at a dance party hosted by Great-Aunt Cornelia in her enormous Manhattan town house just off Fifth Avenue. Although tensions run high at first, eventually the entire family let down their guard and end up dancing with one another--and quite enjoying it. As Connie, the young narrator, puts it: "I'm sure I danced with my father, with Bendey, with my mother, and with Eleanor, too. For a while I guess we were all dancing together, in a sort of tango with seven people and a large dog. Maybe it was actually more of a tangle than a tango.''~ Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor to our pages, may till 25 January 2003 be reached at Mount St. Alphonsus Retreat Center; P.O. Box 219; Esopus, New York 12429. 1~eview for l~etigio~ Festivity and Dance To my mind, living in right relationship with others is much akin to taking part in a festive dance. What matters is not whether we know how to dance, but whether we are willing to participate and, if need be, even play the part of the fool. Many of us, unfortunately, have failed to recognize this important fact of life. Quirk's funny and eccentric story with its festive (and quite unexpected) ending reminds us of our human penchant for being continuously "out of step" with each other and refusing to take part in the celebration of.life. It pokes fun at our pet peeves and silly vanities that get in the way of our capacity to love. It puts a mirror before us and encourages us to take a good look at ourselves and at those around us. We may see that our attempts at getting along with one another are often "more of a tangle than a tango." But we may notice, as well, our deep desire to get it right, to be "in sync" with the people in our lives, despite the differences, the awkward diffidences, that keep us apart. Our desire to participate in this great dance of life comes from deep in the human heart, evincing the divine love within us. The Christian God is the God of the living. The life of the Trinity affirms the sacred character of festivity and dance. Celebration, for this God, flows from love and is closely allied to it. In his book The Third Peacock, Robert Farrar Capon breaks through our traditional stereotypes of God and involves the Father, Son, and Spirit in a heavenly bash of ongoing creation: And God the Father looked at the whole wild party and he said, "Wonderful! Just what I had in mind! 7by! 7by! 7by!" And all God the Son and God the Holy Ghost could think of was to say the same thing. "Tbv! %v! Toy.t" So they shouted together "Tbv meod!" and they laughed and laughed for ages and ages, saying things like how great it was for beings to be, and bow clever of the Father to think of the idea, and how kind of the Son to go to all that trouble putting it together, and how considerate of the Spirit to spend so much time directing and choreographing. And forever and ever they told old jokes, and the Father and the Son drank their wine in unitate Spiritus Sancti, and they all threw ripe olives and pickled mushrooms at each other per omnia saecula saeculorum. Amen.2 September-October 2002 Billy ¯ Right Relationships in Consecrated Life Our yearning for reveling, celebration, and dance, the desire to be at one with ourselves and to live in communion with those around us derives from something within us that is, at the same time, far beyond us. According to our Catholic belief, it is rooted in the ground of all reality, in the intimate life of love of a God who simultaneously is both one and many. The Christian God exists in and for communio: for unity in diversity and vice versa. Our desire for communion and right relationship stems from our being created in the image and likeness of this mysterious, personal, yet transcendent ground of love. Even though we are fallen, dysfunctional, bent out of shape (however one wishes to term it), the imprint of divinity grows within and manifests itself in our deepest longings. We yearn for communion with one another ultimately because of God's yearning for communion with us. We are miserably out of step with one another, yet haunted by the deeply rooted hope that things can and will get better, not through our own doing, but because of the God who made us, loves us, and holds us in being. A Spirituality of Communion Recent church documents highlight how important it is for believers to nurture a "spirituality of communion" in their lives. In Novo millennio ineunte (2001), his apostolic letter on the new millennium, John Paul II puts it this way: A spirituality of communion indicates above all the heart's contemplation of the mystery of the Trinity dwelling in us, and whose light we must also be able to see shining on the face of the brothers and sisters around us. A spirituality of communion also means an ability to think of our brothers and sisters in faith within the profound unity of the Mystical Body, and therefore as "those who are a part of me." This makes us able to share their joys and sufferings, to sense their desires and attend to their needs, to offer them deep and genuine friendship. A spirituality of communion implies also the ability to see what is positive in others, to welcome it and prize it as a gift from God: not only as a gift for the brother or sister who has received it directly, but also as a "gift for Review for Religious me." A spirituality of communion means, finally, to know how to "make room" for our brothers and sisters, bearing "each other's burdens" (Ga 6:2) and resisting the selfish temptations which constantly beset us and provoke competition, careerism, distrust, and jealousy. (§43) It would be difficult to come up with a more comprehensive vision of living in right relationship with others. The pope invites us to contemplate the mystery of the Trinity within our hearts and to discern its presence in those around us. He asks us to be aware of the presence of others, to minister to their needs, and to reach out to them in a spirit of friendship. Doing so means making room for others in our lives and allowing them to make room for us. It means living in communion with them on every level of our human makeup: the physical, emotional, intellectual, social, and spiritual. The pope's words describe a vision of "right relationship" that few would fault or disavow. Most of us have no problem accepting his vision of communion or right relationship. Our trouble is putting it into practice. I am reminded of Walter Principe's distinction about the different levels of spirituality: the experiential, the doctrinal, and the analytical? We accept the teaching on the "spirituality of communion" and can easily accept it as a vision that we should look to and strive to implement in our lives. We can even study, analyze, and criticize it for the purpose of making it a more coherent body of teaching. On the experiential level, however, many of us have difficulty taking the steps to make this teaching on communion and right relationships an integral part of our lives. We experience a gap between what we envision and who we really are. That gap may be small or large. The size of it determines how much dysfunction we experience in our personal, family, and community lives. The pope invites us to contemplate the mystery of the Trinity within our hearts and to discern its presence in those around us. 497 . September-O,'tober 2002 Billy ¯ Right Relationships in Consecrated Life To my mind, the key question is not whether the gap between vision and experience exists, but whether we recognize it and are taking steps to make it smaller and smaller. We need to recognize the gap, accept it as something that will never fully go away (at least in this life), and take appropriate steps to narrow it. This task is not a one-time challenge, but must be taken up again with each new day. The Vision of Vita Consecrata My suspicion is that religious have a particularly difficult time coming to terms with the discrepancy between the vision of the life to which they have been called and their actual experience of it. I say this because the church places so much hope in consecrated persons' being "true experts" at achieving communion that the gap between vision and lived reality is bound to be quite large. This vision is presented quite clearly in Vita consecrata (1996), John Paul II's postsynodal apostolic exhortation on the consecrated life. As the following excerpt demonstrates, consecrated persons must live up to enormous expectations: A great task also belongs to the consecrated life in the light of the teaching about the church as communion, so strongly proposed by the Second Vatican Council. Consecrated persons are asked to be true experts of communion and to pradtice the spirituality of communion as "witnesses and architects of the plan for unity which is the crowning point of human history in God's design.". The sense of ecclesial communion, developing into a spirituality of communion, promotes a way of thinking, speaking, and acting which enables the church to grow in depth and extension. 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 essence it is a communion that is missionary." (~46) A little later the document makes it clear that an important aspect of this "spiri~ality of communion" is "an allegiance of Review for Relig4ous mind and heart to the magisterium of the bishops, an allegiance which must be lived honestly and clearly testified to before the people of God by all consecrated persons, especially those involved in theological research, teaching, publishing, catechesis, and the use of the means of social communication." To be sure, "because consecrated persons have a special place in the church, their attitude in this regard is of immense importance for the whole people of God." The document points to the testimonies of founders and foundresses, who demonstrated "a constant and lively sense of the church." To further its claim, it cites the loyal devotion, to the church of such great saints as Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Ignatius Loyola, Teresa of Avila, and the Little Flower. Such examples of full ecclesial communion need to be constantly recalled if consecrated persons "are to resist the particularly strong centrifugal and disruptive forces at work today" (§46). Speaking, thinking, and acting with the magisterium are thus considered in the light of a vital role given to consecrated persons in the church universal in accord with the venerable tradition of great saints and founders and foundresses and with a view to the church's missionary nature. These ever expanding contexts give an added richness to the concept of the spirituality of communion and should not be overlooked. Only by taking them into account can consecrated persons understand their important role in the post-Vatican II era and "be nourished from the wellspring of a sound and deep spirituality" (§93). Another key text on the spirituality of communion comes later in the same document when institutes of the consecrated life are given the specific task of spreading this spirituality of communion: The church entrusts to communities of consecrated life the particular task of spreading the spirituality of communion, first of all in their internal life and then in the ecclesial community, and even beyond its boundaries, by opening or continuing a dialogue in charity, especially where today's world is torn apart by ethnic hatred or senseless violence. Placed as they are within the wbrld's different societies (societies frequently marked by conflicting passions and interests, seeking unity but uncertain about the ways Septentber-October 2002 Billy * Right Relationships in Consecrated Life to attain it), communities of consecrated life--where persons of different ages, languages, and cultures meet as brothers and sisters--are signs that dialogue is always possible and that communion can bring differences into harmony. (§51) This paragraph affirms the pope's hope "that all will grow in the understanding and spirituality of communion" (§50). It also supports his earlier statement about the obligation of fraternity as a form of witness to the Trinity: "By constantly promoting fraternal love also in the form of the common life, the consecrated life has shown that sharing in the Trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity" (§41), one which does everything "in communion and d!alogne" (§74) and which favors "that 'dialogue of life' which embodies a basic model of mission and of the proclamation of Christ's gospel" (§102). Notice the threefold range of this special task entrusted to consecrated persons. They are to spread the spirituality of communion first within themselves, second within the ecclesial communion, and third beyond its boundaries. Motivated by their deep personal love for Christ (see §84), they reach out in dialogue that "is the new name of charity, especially charity within the church" (§74). --YO0 Implications for Consecrated Life I would like to take a. deeper look at just what this "particular task of spreading the spirituality of communion" (§51) might mean for members of institutes of consecrated life. The threefold framework of internal life, ecclesial communion, and beyond will be particularly helpful in this regard. Internal Life. In the first place, institutes of consecrated life are called to put their own houses in order and live in harmony: "In an age characterized by the globalization of problems and the return .of the idols of nationalism, international institutes especially are called to uphold and to bear witness to the sense of communion between peoples, races, and cultures" (§51). They do so first and foremost by living out their common charism in communion with each other, even though they represent various age groups, nationalities, cultural backgrounds, and theological perspectives. The attempt of such communities to dialogue Review for Religious among themselves and to bring unity out of the diversity of their experience is an effective sign of that community of heart and mind to which all are called. This communion in the institute's internal life should exist on all levels of its communal makeup-- local, provincial, and general--and should foster cooperation between these levels, in keeping with the principle of subsidiarity. A natural outgrowth of this internal application of the spirituality of communion is cooperation among the different institutes themselves (see §52). Bound by the common call to the evangelical counsels, these institutes, both old and new, should regard one another with profound respect and strive to work together in their efforts to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ to the world. Relationships among such institutes should not be marred by jealousy, indifference, or suspicion. The document recalls St. Bernard's words about the various religious orders: I admire them all. I belong to one of them by observance, but to all of them by charity. We all need one another: the spiritual good which I do not own and possess, I receive from others . In this exile the church is still on pilgrimage and is, in a certain sense, plural: she is a single plurality and a plural unity. All our diversities, which make manifest the richness of God's gifts, will continue to exist in the one house of the Father, which has many rooms. Now there is a division of graces; then there will be distinctions of glory. Unity, both here and there, consists in one and the same charity. (§52) In this spirit the document encourages coordinating bodies such as the conferences of major superiors and the conferences of secular institutes to work in harmony with each other as well as with the episcopal conference of each country. They are also encouraged "to maintain frequent and regular contacts with the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, as a sign of their communion with the Holy See" (§53). The point of all this is that the spirituality of communion, once it is lived within the life of an institute of consecrated life itself, should naturally overflow into similar relations beyond its boundaries. Ecclesial Communion. For this reason, the pope also encourages mutual relationships of respect and collaboration Septentber-October 2002 Billy ¯ Rigbt Relationships in Consecrated Life between institutes of consecrated life and every level of ecclesial communion: with other states of life within the church (the laity, the clergy) and also with brothers and sisters of the various Christian confessions. All of this should be done out of respect for the common dignity shared by all the faithful (§31), but in such a way that "the identity of the institute in its internal life is not harmed" (§56). In this context, cooperation with the laity receives special mention. The document notes that "many institutes have come to the conclusion that their charism can be shared with the laity" (§54). This sharing takes many forms, from sharing their spirituality to various kinds of pastoral collaboration. As a result, "the participation of the laity often brings unexpected and rich insights into certain aspects of the charism, leading to a more spiritual interpretation of it and helping to draw from it directions for new activities in the apostolate" (§55). Emphasizing the equal dignity of both men and women before God (§57), the document specifically deals with the role of consecrated women. It describes them as "signs of God's tender love towards the human race" (§57) and points out that "women's new self-awareness also helps men to reconsider their way of looking at things, the way they understand themselves, where they place themselves in history and how they interpret it, and the way they organize social, political, economic, religious, and ecclesial life" (§57). Ecumenical dialogue is yet another level of ecclesial communion to which institutes of consecrated life must give due attention. Lectio divina, common prayer, dialogue in friendship, cordial hospitality, and common undertakings of service and witness are among thq many forms of ecumenical dialogue. The work of Christianity is not just the work of these institutes that were specifically founded for this purpose or because of a later calling (§57). The pope makes it quite clear that "no institute of consecrated life should feel itself dispensed from working for this cause" (§101). Special emphasis is given to the monastic tradition in the Eastern Catholic Churches for the help they can give in promoting unity with the Orthodox churches and given also to monasteries of contemplative life, to whom the pope entrusts "the spiritual ecumenism of prayer, conversion of heart, and charity" (§101). Review for Religious Beyond. The spirituality of communion moves consecrated persons beyond the bounds of the Christian communion of faith into dialogue with other faiths and cultures: "Because 'interreligious dialogue is a part of the church's evangelizing mission,' institutes of consecrated life cannot exempt themselves from involvement also in this field, each in accordance with its own charism and following the directives of ecclesiastical authority" (§102). They do this primarily through "the testimony of a life of poverty, humility, and chastity, imbued with fraternal love for all" i§I02). Dedicated to that "dialogue of life" which finds its mission in the proclamation of the Good News, they "promote appropriate forms of dialogue, marked by cordial friendship and mutual sincerity, with monastic communities of other religions" (§102). Other areas for cooperation include concern for human life and efforts to promote the dignity of women (§102). All such efforts, moreover, require proper formation, study, and research, together with deep faith and personal and spiritual maturity (§102). Finally, the "spirituality of communion" asks institutes of consecrated life to place themselves at the service of all humanity. Their service to the world involves "a life of self-giving love" (§75). Indeed, "the fact that consecrated persons fix their gaze on the Lord's countenance does not diminish their commitment on behalf Of humanity; on. the contrary, it strengthens this commitment, enabling it to have an impact on history, in order to free history from all that disfigures it" (§75). This means, first and foremost, offering "the witness of a life given totally to God and to their brothers and sisters, in imitation of the Savior, who out of love for humanity made himself a servant" (§76). It also means living .a life of genuine inculturation, one that "requires attitudes similar to those of the Lord when he became man and walked among us in love and meekness" (§79). In their attempt to serve as "a gospel leaven The "spirituality of communion" asks institutes of consecrated life to place themselves at the service of all humanity. September-October 2002 Billy ¯ Right Relationships in Consecrated Life within a culture, purifying and perfecting it" (§80), they follow the church in its preferential option for those "in situations of greater weakness" (§82). This includes "the poor, in varied states of affliction., those on the margins of society, the elderly, the sick, the young, any and all who are considered and treated as 'the least'" (§82). Some of the concrete ways in which they meet the needs of the poor include the care of the sick, their presence in the world of education, their presence in the field of social communications, and the evangelization of culture (see §§83 and 96-99). Their life of evangelical poverty, moreover, "is a value in itself," which, "accompanied by a preferential love for the poor," is expressed "especially by sharing the conditions of life of the most neglected" (§90). To be sure, "there are many communities which live and work among the poor and the marginalized; they embrace their conditions of life and share in their sufferings, problems, and perils" (§90). To summarize: The spirituality of communion is kindled by God in the institute of consecrated life and is meant to have a ripple effect on the entire life of the church. Arising within the institute, where members of various ages, cultures, and educational backgrounds live together in a spirit of fraternal love, it reaches out to other institutes, to other states of life within the church, to other Christian denominations, to other religions, and to all of humanity. It does so in a spirit of dialogue and service to give witness to the personal presence of Christ in the world and to the power of the Trinity to transform human relationships. Its mission is to build relationships of solidarity wherever human beings congregate and to be a sign of the intimate life with God to which all are called. The Gap between Vision and Experience The above presen.tation shows that the Catholic Church has a clear and extensive teaching on the spirituality of communion, what it means to live in right relationship with others. While this teaching has concrete implications for communities of consecrated life, the problem we are facing, as I suggested earlier, has to do with narrowing the gap between the teaching we profess and our actual lived experience. We need to take a good, hard look at these urgent practical concerns. Review for Religious One way of doing so is to adapt the psychological language of action, voluntary disposition (or habims), and attitude to the experience and needs of consecrated life today. According to this understanding of human behavior, an action involves a single deliberate object and intention, while a voluntary disposition (as opposed to an unwanted involuntary habit) refers to an active pattern of behavior acquired through the continuous repetition of actions. An attitude, in turn, is an active disposition voluntarily acquired through the repetition of options, those value choices that define a person's life project. An action, in other words, is singular and concrete; a voluntary disposition, a deep-rooted deliberate pattern of behavior; an attitude, a deeply ingrained option for a particular set of values.4 Ideally, there exists a strong continuity be-tween a person's actions, voluntary dispositions, and attitudes. In real life, however, this continuity can manifest varying degrees of strength and is often even disrupted. The same could be said of the actions, voluntary dispositions, and attitudes of a family, group, or religious community. When applied to communities of consecrated life in the light of the church's teaching on the spirituality of communion and the gap between vision and lived experience, it is of paramount importance that we find a way of helping to shape people's attitudes. To do so, we must recognize that there is a circular relationship between actions, voluntary dispositions, and the formation of attitudes. That is to say, attitudes give rise to various actions and voluntary dispositions and are at the same time shaped by them. To overlook these important relationships is to risk forming consecrated persons whose actions run contrary to, or at best are inconsistent with, the values they truly hold and which define their life's project. This circular relationship between actions, voluntary dispositions, and attitudes means that religious communities Ideally, there exists a strong continuity between a person's actions, voluntary dispositions, and attitudes. September- October 2002 Billy ¯ Right Relationships in Consecrated Life must develop complex strategies for narrowing the gap between vision and lived experience. Such a strategy must involve an ongoing interplay between teachings, structures, practices, and critical reflection that enables individuals and the community to test and verify the vision that defines them so that it can be authentically nuanced (and perhaps redefined) to express what they truly are called to. From there, the community needs to develop structures and practices that will reinforce in daily life the values expressed by this defining vision. For the desired attitudes to truly take hold, these structures and practices need.to be firm yet flexible, taking into account the three principles of church teaching about right relationships: the dignity of the human person, the common good, and the virtue of solidarity. In today's world, communities of consecrated life cannot be effective instruments of the spirituality of communion if they do not make great efforts to inculcate these principles in the lives of their members. To do otherwise would increase the gap between vision and lived experience rather than narrowing it. Narrowing the Gap In his popular bestseller Maybe (Maybe Not), Robert Fulghum offers some important insights into what he calls the public, private, and secret lives of everyday life: Public lives are lived out on the job and in the marketplace, where certain rules, conventions, laws, and social customs keep most of us in line. Private lives are lived out in the presence of family, friends, and neighbors who must be considered and respected, even though the rules and proscriptions are looser than what's allowed in public. But in our secret lives, inside our own heads, almost anything goes.s Although Fulghum is writing about American society in general, his insight has, to my mind, special significance for our topic. If, in their attempts to narrow the gap between vision and lived reality, communities of consecrated life do not give due consideration to the attitudes behind the various dispositions and actions that they ask of their members, a dangerous rupture can take place between the public face they present to the outside Review for Religious world, the private life lived within the community, and a secret life known only to a few, hidden from other members, and institutionally suppressed and even denied. When this occurs, the dysfunction within a community can reach great intensity and cause great misery for both the members and those they claim to serve. A religious institution, I am suggesting, has not only a public and a private life, but also a secret life. For members to live in fight relationship with others, all three of these lives need to be acknowledged, understood, and dealt with in mature and responsible ways. Otherwise the gap between vision and lived experience will increase rather than diminish, and the community will be based on an illusion, living in a house of mirrors, where appearances deceive. A community of consecrated life, in other words, needs to get in touch with its shadow side, the darker part of the community's life, which influences decisions even though the community may be only peripherally aware of them. Only by acknowledging this dark side, taming it, and then befriending it will a community ever come to understand itself and be able to channel its vast resources in creative and constructive ways. I do not intend to go into specifics about what all of this means for the evangelical counsels or life in community. The church's teaching on these constituent elements of the consecrated life is clear and has been adequately developed elsewhere. What I will say, however, is that, when examining the spirituality of their particular institutes, communities need to look at the various gaps that exist

Issue 50.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1991. ; Review for Religious Volume 50 Number 2 March/April 1991 Beyond the Liberal Model Exiting from Religious Life Thoughts about Science and Prayer The Death of Dearly Loved~Friends 50/~INIVERSARY VOLUME REVIEW FOR RELIGIOIJS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW I:Oa REI.IGIOUS; |~.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs: two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 REVIEW FOR REt,mloUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Edito'rs Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. March/Api'il 1991 Volume 50 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to RF:\'mw FOR RF:LtGtOt~S; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" shnuld be addressed Io Elizabeth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues should be ordered from REVtEW ~'o~ REt.mto~Js; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of Print" issues are available from University Microfilms International: 300 N. Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to: Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. When we Christians refer to the centrality of the paschal mystery, we mean that Jesus' passion, death, and resurrection somehow remain the necessary pattern for our human living in relation to God. In the gospels, Jesus often uses nature images or parables of human activity to point us towards the pattern of his dying and rising--a pat-tern in which we all who are his followers profess to share. Today it seems that we easily turn to the seed dying to bring forth life or to the metamorphosis of caterpillar to butterfly to gain insight into our way of human growth or maturity. Yet we find it hard to go from the dark beauty of nature imagery to the stark reality of Christ on a cross. So, too, the contemporary patterns of various psychological growth models can be-come so enlightening for our understanding of human development that they seem to transfix our gaze. We may stop short of viewing our mod-els through the stronger lens of a Christian optic. We should not be ungrateful that we can make use today of helpful imagery from nature and models from psychology in order that we may better understand and respond to a particularly confusing time in our world and in our Church, in religious life and in priesthood, in the fam-ily and in the parish. But the pattern of Christ--with his presence en-abling us to enter once again into his paschal mystery--remains central to our Christian focus on life issues. Rather than being confronted with a transition darkness relieved only by images and metaphors, we as Chris-tians believe that we are always being summoned into the mystery of God's transforming action breaking into the vagaries of our natural and human worlds. We struggle neither as victims nor as "Rambo" fight-ers. Instead, we are invited once again to ally ourselves with the Lord in bringing about God's reign more fully into our own lives and into the world we affect. Because our God is a God always actively working with our created world, we live and pray and work in a loving relationship with God--always developing and being purified, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad. The elements of passion, death, and resurrection are touched upon in various ways by various articles in this issue. Our first article, "A Personal Memoir: The Arrupe Years," by Roland Faley, T.O.R., is a unique tribute to the former Jesuit superior general Pedro Arrupe, who died on February 5, 1991. Arrupe provided leadership and gave hope to 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 many religious congregations through much of the paschal-mystery times for religious life following upon Vatican II; he himself suffered his own paschal mystery through a debilitating stroke in 1981, then through the difficult time when a papal delegate was imposed upon the Jesuits, and finally through his lingering half-life over.the past seven years since his resignation as general. In the darkness of religious-life renewal, an image of reweaving has captured the imagination of many. From her perspective of working with many religious groups in renewal efforts, Elizabeth McDonough, O.P., in "Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis?" assesses some of the strands of reweaving efforts and makes her own effort to suggest ways towards deeper faith realities that remain unrealized at present. Grappling with the reality of the paschal mystery in the hard deci-sions about existence facing some religious congregations is the subject of the article by.Marie Beha, O.S.C. Eileen O'Hea, C.S.J., considers the dying process of the individual who considers leaving a religious com-munity and the needed response of the community. Renee Yann, R.S.M., reflects on the power of community in the special moment of the death of dearly loved friends. Three articles on pray,.: may shed some light as we move through some dark passages in our ever developing love-life with God. Benedict Auer, O.S.B., expands the Benedictine lectio approach with some in-sights into the use of videos. Edgar Bourque, A.A., inculturates an Augustinian way of praying into our American context. Some refresh-ing ways of understanding prayer are presented through the medium of science by Dennis Sardella. Helpful and comprehensive describe the treatment of vocation min-istry by Jeanne Schweickert, S.S.S.F., in her "Co-creators of History: United States Vocation Ministry." The same words apply equally well to the article by Kenneth Davis, O.F.M.Conv., "U.S. Hispanic Catho-lics: Trends and Recent Works." May the Lenten and Easter season~ guide us all further into the pas-chal mystery which focuses our life with the Lord. David L. Fleming, S.J. A Personal Memoir: The Arrupe Years Roland J. Faley, T.O.R. Father Roland J. Faley lived in Rome as vicar general of the Third Order Regular of St. Francis, i 971 - 1977, and superior general 1977- i 983. In December 1990 he completed his term as executive director of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM). His mailing address is St. Thomas More Friary; 650 Jackson St., N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017. The time was the early seventies. Rome was still caught up in a spirit of postconciliar excitement. Pope Paul VI's inherent caution in the face of the untried was tempered by an unfettered spirit in the air which wanted to let things happen. The present writer was returning to Rome after an absence of more than a decade, having been elected to the general gov-ernment of his Franciscan Order. I had been a student in Rome at the time of John XXIII's election. Those had been heady days of great prom-ise, at that time more a hope than anything else. It was only after the council, years later, that the real struggle of aggiornamento could be felt. Pedro Arrupe was the general of the Jesuits. Vibrant and spirited are adjectives that hardly do him justice. He was also president of the Un-ion of Superiors General (USG), the organization made up of the heads of men's religious institutes in the Church: It was a job for which Ar-rupe was ideally suited although one always wondered how he found the time. It was often said that the first time he was elected to the office by his peers, it was because he was general of the Jesuits. His subsequent reelections (and there were at least four) were because he was Pedro Ar-rupe. The story says a great deal about the man, quite apart from his of-fice. It was not long after I became active in the USG that Arrupe asked me to serve on the Justice and Peace Commission and later named me 163 164 / Review for Religious, March-April 1990 to be the press officer for the Union. It was in the latter capacity espe-cially that I came to know Arrupe the man. The Justice Agenda Arrupe steered the Society of Jesus through a very difficult period in its history. The thirty-first and thirty-second general congregations had set the concerns of the world's neediest at the center of the Society's mis-sion. A strong emphasis on social justice permeates the documents of these general congregations. The passage from documents to im-plementation was marked by an inevitable reaction, not all of it positive, within the Society itself. Arrupe was undaunted. The new direction reso-nated with his whole life as a missionary. The evil of the arms race was eminently clear to one who had survived the first use of the atomic bomb in Japan, 1945. For Arrupe this postconciliar direction of his institute was not a ques-tion of personal choice. It had been mandated by the Society's highest authority, a general congregation; for the general of the institute, im-plementation was simply not an option. In that spirit of obedience, he charted a new course which made strong demands on the whole Society of Jesus. On the level of general government alone it required personnel and resources not easily commandeered. He never wavered in the pur-suit of a course that for him bore the faces of countless deprived and suf-fering people. In responding to any issue, Arrupe's enthusiasm was infectious. He was the idea man, the animator, willing to leave details and implemen-tation to others. At times he seemed unrealistic, but he never left one un-inspired. The great picture was always there. An unforgettable moment occurred during the refugee crisis of the late seventies. The movement of peoples was felt in many parts of the world, with Rome affected by a large influx of people from Ethiopia. A visit to Arrupe from Robert McNamara, then president of the World Bank, proved to be a real catalyst in moving the refugee project forward. An urgent response was called for by the sheer volume of people arriv-ing in Rome after the revolution in Ethiopia. The greatest need was for housing and food. The Jesuits opened their own refugee office to address the problem internationally and in Rome. At the same time Arrupe gal-vanized the forces of men and women general superiors. Through the built-in network of the two Unions of Superiors General, housing was found for the Ethiopians throughout the city, especially in the genera-lates themselves. A hot meal was served each evening to hundreds of per-sons in the basement of the GesO, the main Jesuit church in the heart The Arrupe Years of the city. It was always interesting to meet religious leaders of interna-tional congregations ladling soup or serving pasta at the refugee center. Arrupe took an active interest in the work of the USG's Justice and Peace Commission. He urged its members to respond to known viola-tions of human rights anywhere on the world scene, to become involved in the Year of the Woman (1976), and to sensitize members of religious institutes on the role of justice in religious life, especially in the wake of the 1971 Synod of Bishops. His leadership in social justice was firm and steady, but never abrasive or confrontational. He had, for example, an unusual sensitivity for diplomatic concerns and was a strong believer in the power of persuasion. But his commitment to the thesis of justice as a constitutive element of the Gospel message was total. This was jus-tice in the service of faith, an idea integral to Arrupe's thinking. There was no divorcing faith and justice; it was, moreover, a justice rooted in love. For Arrupe, it was unthinkable to speak of a struggle for justice apart from a belief in that justice for all people willed by God himself. Christian Unity Ecumenism was still a fledgling enterprise on the Roman scene when Arrupe moved the USG toward a better understanding of men and women religious of the other churches. In the early seventies, Michael Fisher, provincial of the Anglican Franciscans from England, and Ar-rupe decided to initiate a permanent consultation on religio,us life among religious of the Catholic, Reformed, and Anglican communions. The con-sultation continues to meet on a biannual, basis and is now in its second decade of life. During those Roman years it became common to have non- Catholic religious present for the assemblies of the USG; on many lev-els, the participation was reciprocal. This was a new venture, largely un-tested, the success of which was by no means guaranteed. To a great ex-tent it was Arrupe's breadth of vision and the warmth of his personality that carried the day. There was an immediacy and directness about him that broke down resistance. In the ecumenical field, he was willing to leave the doctrinal differences to others; it was the faith that was shared which excited him. In the area of religious life, the understanding of the vows, community, and prayer differed little from one denomination to the other. I remember vividly the bonding that quickly developed among the participants of those early years. When discussion centered on the nu-merical difference in the size of the communities, it was often very amus-ing. It was fascinating to see Arrupe, whose religious institute numbered close to 35,000, engaged in intense conversation with an Anglican su- 166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 perior of some forty religious. Numbers mattered little; it was the mean-ing of the life that counted. Conversation with the World Vatican II's Church in the Modern World fit perfectly with Arrupe's sense of church. While not unmindful of the dangers present in the meet-ing between faith and culture, he remained a strong proponent of incul-turation. A spirit of withdrawal or disengagement from the world, or even worse, a siege mentality, was alien to Arrupe. Nowhere was this more evident than in his dealing with the media. It was during these same Roman years that Donald Campion, S.J., had been named the Jesuit gen-eralate's chief communications officer. Arrupe had long been keenly aware of the necessity for a high-level spokesman and worked to make it possible. Campion was privy to discussion and decision-making at all levels and, therefore, in the best position to deal effectively with the me-dia. Such openness was a quantum leap forward from the spirit of reti-cence, even fear, which was so much a part of religious officialdom. The latter was a spirit well symbolized by the small sliding window at the por-ter's office of the Jesuit generalate and countless other Roman headquar-ters. It was a far cry from an "open door" policy. As press officer for the USG, I enjoyed the same latitude. I was en-couraged to be present for all meetings, even when the most sensitive issues were being discussed. I was free to share the views and activities of the Union with both the secular and religious press. If discretion was called for, I was expected to exercise it, but the prevailing climate was one-of as much openness as possible. This was Arrupe's style, and it proved right more often than not. By the same token, he expected a sense of responsibility from a well-informed media. He was both angered and offended by unfounded specu-lation or an inordinate interest in the sensational or controversial. This was very evident at the time of the 32nd General Congregation, at which he presided. What seemed like a concerted effort to magnify conflicts between the Jesuits and the Vatican caused him no small measure of pain. And yet it never soured him or changed his basically positive out-look. For him the best way to deal with such a situation was through con-tinued efforts at supplying accurate and intelligible information. It was a Church in progress, moving through history, aided and abet-ted by the world around it, that fashioned Arrupe's thinking. If the mes-sage of the Church were to be heard, it would only be through outreach and dialogue. In the important position which he held, he lent the full weight of his office to obtain that goal. The Arrupe Years / 167 The Man of God It is hard to speak of a person's spirituality. In its intensely personal character it remains ultimately untouchable. And yet it becomes trans-parent in a person's life. In having a certain closeness to Arrupe and lis-tening to the views of others who were his peers, I noted certain quali-ties that mirrored a remarkable spirituality. He comes to mind im-mediately as a man of hope and faith-filled action. It is small wonder that he had such close personal ties with Cardinal Edward Pironio, the Argentinian head of the Vatican Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. There were any number of reasons why relations between the Jesuits and the Vatican department responsible for religious life might well have been strained at that time. But Pironio's sense of hope and his very open and warm personality matched Arrupe's. They became close personal friends. Hindsight has led many people to comment favorably on Rome in the seventies. Religious life was being fashioned by an interesting trio. There were the challenges to religious given by Paul VI, coupled with the positive leadership bf Pironio and Arrupe. It was an exciting decade; for some of us, unforgettable. Arrupe's spirituality was marked by a deep sense of history and tra-dition. He was part of a Church and a religious institute whose patrimony truly humbled him. The picture of Arrupe as a man wed only to the pre-sent and largely indifferent to the values of the past is caricature at best. He knew that new wine required new skins and articulated that vision well. But he linked that vision with a real sense of the importance of con-tinuity. Some examples come quickly to mind. He had a profound es-teem for the insights of his institute's founder, St. Ignatius Loyola. While some argued that many of those insights were time-bound and no longer valid, Arrupe would be the last to be convinced. He said repeatedly that the longer he lived the more he appreciated the spiritual genius of his foun-der. In those years there was considerable discussion about the need for greater democracy in religious life. The question of the appropriateness of electing superiors, rather than appointing them as was the custom in many religious congregations, was very much to the fore. Arrupe re-mained throughout a strong proponent of the appointment method, fixed so strongly in Jesuit tradition. He was never persuaded that democracy produces the best leadership, and many of those who belonged to orders or congregations of a more democratic bent could recognize a certain va-lidity in his position. 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 His understanding of the vow of obedience was not rigidly tradi-tional; his thinking had been enhanced by contemporary theological in-sight into the Gospel sense of the vow. And yet he was deeply imbued with appreciation for the ascetical value inherent in accepting the deci-sions of those placed in authority. A case in point. When Arrupe com-municated to Robert Drinan, S.J., the decision that the latter would have to relinquish his seatin the U.S. House of Representatives, it was a very difficult moment in the life of both men. But it made a lasting impres-sion on Arrupe. The priority that Drinan gave to his Jesuit calling in ac-cepting that decision was, in Arrupe's mind, as important for the Soci-ety and the Church as anything Drinan might have otherwise accom-plished. It was an example to which he would repeatedly return. In retrospect, however, one would have to say that it was the man's openness that remains so vivid to the present day. He was never threat-ened by new ideas, even if he found them ultimately unacceptable. He could see the value in some elements of a Marxist social analysis, even though he was against its use. He could espouse~the Jesuits' new social ministries and still be a strong believer in the traditional ministry of edu-cation. He was a champion of legitimate pluralism, almost by instinct. While mindful of the importance of magisterial teaching, he wanted theo-logians to have as much freedom as possible in the pursuit of their task. It was his deep-rooted faith that lent him serenity in facing [he contem-porary scene. Not intimidated by the risk of possible failure, he realized that all was ultimately in God's hands. And then there were the trials, known best by those who worked with him closely. A number of those he shared with me. In his later years, the media was asking hard questions. Was Arrupe going to resign? Was he under pressure from the Vatican to do so? Was a dissatisfied segment of the Jesuits pressing for his resignation? Was his relationship with Paul VI as strained as rumored? Were there conflicts with John Paul II? Arrupe was always candid. He respected the media and realized that there was much to be gained through cooperation. But he was disturbed by attempts to exacerbate situations and exaggerate differences. There were certainly very difficult issues which he faced in the latter years of his term of office. He was fully aware that there was a conservative seg-ment of the Society which opposed him. In addition, during the thirty-second General Congregation, his was the task of interpreting the mind of that worldwide assembly to the pope, and vice versa. It was a sensi-tive and often painful task. That he did it so well is a tribute to his con-ciliatory gifts. But he was beset by rumors, which, like a room full of The Arrupe Years / 169 gnats, gave him no peace. That there were differences between the gen-eral congregation and the pope in certain areas, he never denied. Yet his personal relationship with Paul VI was never the question. He was sym-pathetic to the concerns of the pope and realized the weight of his cross. Moreover, he hailed the pope's social teaching as a landmark in the Church's life. But the perception of a wall of conflict between the "black" and "white" pope persisted, even though it was inaccurate. Arrupe was the first to admit that the sentiment among the Jesuits for the direction .taken after the thirty-second Congregation was not unani-mous. He was acutely aware of a vocal conservative opposition. But he saw the implementation of the general congregation's decisions as an obe-dience and there was no turning back. He always stressed the strong sup-port that came from so many quarters, the enthusiasm which the con-gregation's decisions had generated, especially among the young, and the fact that the Holy See had given its approval. But the fact is that the positive is just not that newsworthy, and so he would be inevitably ques-tioned about the "dark side" of any given situation. This always caused a certain measure of dismay, but it was followed by a remarkable resil-ience. In the wake of any setback, there was always his eventual phone call with a new idea or project. Early in the summer of 1981, Arrupe, his trusted vicar and confi-dant Vincent O'Keefe, and I talked at length about a possible article on the burning question of Arrupe's resignation. There was extensive specu-lation in the press, and we were discussing the best way to deal with it. However, it was more than a public question; it was a matter internal to the Jesuits at a time in which any public communication would have been inappropriate. Arrupe looked upon his eventual resignation in a very posi-tive light, as setting an important precedent for the future of the Soci-ety. His thinking was centered on the good of the religious institute to which his own interests were completely subservient. We decided to do nothing at that time. But that evening he assured me that once he was no longer in office and had the freedom to speak more openly, he would do an extensive interview with me and answer the questions that I felt should be addressed. That proved to be our last conversation. Upon his return from a trip to the Philippines some weeks later, he suffered the stroke from which he never recovered. The rest is history. I subsequently left Rome upon completion of my term of office. My occasional return visits were always marked by a brief visit with the man who had affected my life so deeply. Few words were exchanged. It was 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 usually a prayer and a blessing; he would then kiss my hand before I left. His sufferings proved to be one of the most powerful messages of his life. As one of his confreres put it: "He led us in life and has offered himself for us in death." His immolation was total. It has been an un-usual life. To have been touched by it is a rare gift. Father Pedro Arrupe was superior general of the Jesuits, 1965-198J~. He died on Tuesday, February 5, 1991, in Rome. Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis? Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Sister Elizabeth McDonough, O.P., J.C.D,, Canonical Counsel Editor of REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS and author of Religious in the 1983 Code, writes and consults extensively about consecrated life. She is a canonical consultant and tribunal judge for the Arch-diocese of Washington, where she may be contacted at P.O. Box 29260; Washing-ton, D.C. 20017. For background information on this article, see endnote i. ]t is no secret that active religious life for women in America has experi-enced progressive decline in the quarter century since Vatican II. Evi-dence of the decline is clear and overwhelming, and its effects are felt and observed in the entire Church. When one looks for causes, one real-izes that distinguishing them from the effects is both complicated and deli-cate. Nevertheless, from my experience as a woman religious during the last quarter century and as a canonical consultant for numerous women's communities over the last decade, I have come to the conclusion that many religious have not recognized or have not acknowledged some clear causes and effects of the current decline for what they really are. Effects of progressive decline are there to be seen in the current po-larization within and among women's communities along conservative and liberal ideological lines. The decline is also evident in most com-munities in their relative inability to attract or to keep vocations, as well as in their related inability to maintain significant institutional commit-ments. It is manifest in the near invisibility of women religious in con-temporary apostolic works, as well as in the frequent reluctance of clergy and laity alike to work with women religious in various apostolates. Pro-gressive decline is experienced by religious themselves as the uninten-tionally created and uncomfortably experienced loss of identity follow- 171 Review for Religious, March-April 1991 ing early and rapid postconciliar abandonment of traditional symbols and services, customs and norms. And, to those who are not religious, its ef-fects are all-too-obvious in the polarized, apparently directionless, plu-ralistic potpourri of ministries and attire, lifestyles and mindsets among women religious today. The progressive decline stems in part from the pervasive sociology of liberal individualism in America and in part from the cultural preva-lence of a psychology of selfism. But causes of the decline are also evi-dent in the predominantly social-justice agenda that has been adopted by most women's institutes, as well as in the revisionist versions of vowed life and in the generally antiauthority and often feminist stances currently espoused by not a few active women religious. Again, a major cause of decline can be traced to the reality that, in seeking their roots after the council, many women's institutes dating their foundations to frontier America discovered--but probably did not admit--that they actually had no genuine, unique charism to renew and adapt. The decline can also be traced to the systematic and progressive de-construction or deliberate abandonment of fundamental juridic structures and roles during the postconciliar constitutional revision processes. In most women's institutes, general chapters have now abandoned legisla-tion in favor of direction-setting, with their goals programmed by pre-chapter steering committees and subsequently adopted through member-ship participation in consensus formation that is shaped by outside facil-itators. In most women's institutes, lower-level superiors are now either nonexistent or nonfunctional, while major superiors have abandoned gov-ernment in favor of business management and have surrounded them-selves with middle-level, appointed, administrative personnel whose num-bers have steadily increased over the years in bureaucratic disproportion to the continuing decrease in membership. Functionally, the net effect of juridic deconstruction has been the crea-tion of business-management-style bureaucracies which filter informa-tion upward and decisions downward, from and to members of women's institutes, primarily by means of bulletins, newsletters, special-interest mailings, and occasional phone calls or visits. As a result individual re-ligious deal almost exclusively with middle-level personnel over a long period of time and even in personal and sensitive matters. Many would prefer to describe this reality quite differently by saying that communi-cation (not mere information) is facilitated inward and outward (not up and down) between the empowered membership and the visionary lead-ership in the concentric circles of participative government that have re- Beyond the Liberal Model / 173 placed the hierarchic pyramid of authority. Whatever the terminology, the following experiences are common: (1) Individual members or groups of members can seldom effect change in policies and agendas that are programmed and prepackaged at upper (or inner) levels of the struc-ture; (2) religious are both structurally and functionally more removed from their elected, responsible superiors than previously; and (3) the right of individual religious to personal privacy is, at times, not ade-quately protected. Most women religious would admit that, in the quarter century since Vatican II, the rather short-lived euphoria of the "nun in the world" has been replaced by a long-suffering, quiet frustration at the lurking possi-bility of permanent extinction. While increased relevancy and effective-ness were focal points for altering lifestyles and practices during renewal, many wonder now if women religious in America have ever been more irrelevant and less effective. To be frank, most clergy and laity and male religious have been thinking for quite some time that religious life for women in America is "going nowhere fast," even if few have verbal-ized this publicly. More recently, at least some--if not many--women religious have cautiously begun to acknowledge the same apparent real-ity to themselves and others. A haunting, unresolved question about the entire experience of re-newal is: How did all this ever happen to us? In seeking answers, con-servatives seem tempted to respond: "Surely an enemy has done it!" In kind, liberals seem inclined to say: "I am making all things new!" From the perspective of experience, my response to the question looks to what might be a deeper problem, namely: "All this did not just happen, We did it to ourselves." Indeed, I would suggest that, on the part of women religious, major factors contributing to the current decline have been a certain lack of knowledge of both theology and history, as well as a cer-tain lack of maturity in responding to newly discovered postconciliar re-alities. And, from current experience, I would suggest that an apparent lack of humility in admitting previous mistakes and an apparent lack of honesty regarding present reality or future prospects are probably has-tening the permanent demise of many active institutes of women reli-gious in this country. Lack of Vocations An obvious sign of the progressive decline of women's institutes is the staggering decrease in their membership since Vatican II. In 1965 there were slightly more than 180,000 members in active communities in America, but by 1990 that number had fallen to slightly more than 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 100,000-~a decrease of nearly 45%. Simultaneously, since few women have entered while many have been departing at a slow but steady pace, the median age in women's institutes has risen rapidly and is now com-monly sixty-five or higher. Marie Augusta Neal, in her recent book From Nuns to Sisters, sug-gests that the "radical risks" involved in the Church's new mission to the poor may be the prime factor limiting the response of women to a call to religious life. She thus inadvertently trivializes that call--which, on practical and theoretical as well as human and theological levels, has its appeal within risk or without any particular concern about risk. Neal does not seem to recognize that there is---~r ought to be--a substantive difference between a vocation and a career. And, if experience tells us anything in the matter, it tells us that--with rare exception--the single, most compelling human reason why anyone responds positively to a re-ligious vocation is her (or his) direct, personal awareness of religious who are happy together doing something that they perceive as worth-while and who are clearly motivated by and committed to the love of Je-sus Christ. Currently, many not-yet-retired women religious have become increas-ingly absent or invisible in apostolic activities of the local Church. In other words, for the most part they simply are no longer seen. Moreover, many no longer live in community, even when they live in geographic proximity, sometimes even when they exercise the same ministry or work in the same place. In other words, they are no longer seen together except possibly at work. Again, perhaps too few women religious are to-day perceived as being genuinely happy, and perhaps even fewer as be-ing happy together. Further, the current wide diversification of minis-tries seems sometimes to have led to trivial apostolates ~hile simultane-ously rendering institutional apostolic, witness unsustainable. And, though many may reject the suggestion, perhaps love of Jesus Christ is simply not perceived as the underlying or determining factor in the life of many women religious in America. In short, perhaps because the posi-tive image that women religious tend to have of themselves bears little resemblance to the not-so-positive image that others have of them, it may be unrealistic--if not grandiose--to expect vocations to increase in the near or distant future. Pluralism and Polarization An initial cause and increasing consequence of decline in religious life for women is the currently a~knowledged division into conservative and liberal categories both within and among most congregations. Beyond the Liberal Model / 175 In general, conservative-model institutes tend to favor external authorities, institutional endeavors, traditional theologies, and hierarchi-cal structures; liberal-model institutes generally favor inner freedom, in-dividual endeavors, postconciliar theologies, and collaborative struc-tures. Liberal institutes are inclined to accuse conservative ones of at-tracting emotionally immature candidates, while conservative institutes are inclined to accuse liberals of having nothing that attracts. Conservative religious are often summarily categorized as oppressed, unrenewed, and psychologically dependent; liberal religious are just as often summarily categorized as progressive, feminist, and pseudosophis-ticated. Conservatives seem to read history and Scripture in so selective and so polemical a fashion as to render them an inadequate basis for or-dinary discourse. Conversely, liberals seem to read history and Scripture in so simplistic and so revisionist a fashion as to render them insignifi-cant. From my experience, liberals and conservatives alike seem to have worked very diligently at destroying whatever common symbols they had, so that now they possess no common language for constructive com-munication. Each side seems to have been mutually successful in trans-forming both the concept of God and the experience of worship into sources of division. And neither side seems able to lay untainted claim to any "moral high ground," any bridgehead that addresses the ever wid-ening chasm between them. Currently the majority of women's institutes in America express or espouse a liberal model of religious life. However, it is becoming more and more evident that many religious themselves do not ascribe to the tenets or direction of that model, while many religious also have at least some (and sometimes serious) concerns about its functioning and future. As conservatives attempt to build a future by returning to the past and liberals attempt to build a future by rejecting the past, the categories are becoming increasingly distant and distinct. Most religious realize that any previous potential "middle ground" is fast disappearing, thus leav-ing little hope for future cooperation or reconciliation in or among insti-tutes. Mary Jo Leddy in her recent book, Reweaving Religious Life, ac-knowledges that the current liberal model of religious life is not adequate for facilitating and sustaining genuine adaptation and renewal, even though she has previously been both a proponent and facilitator of that model. Leddy suggests that the liberal model of religious life has become "unraveled" and that it should be replaced by a choice for "creative 176 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 disintegration" in favor of even more radical pluralism. She suggests, further, that liberal-model institutes might take as an example of her "reweaving" thesis Teresa of Avila's reform of Carmelite monastic life in the sixteenth century. But Leddy seems not to recognize that her sug-gestion for the future is humanly problematic and that her analogy from the past is historically inaccurate. As regards "creative disintegration" for a more radical pluralism, the current experience of most American women religious is that the de-gree of pluralism already present in their institutes is straining the limits of not just the weave but also the inner fiber of religious life itself, indi-vidually and collectively. In short, Leddy seems unaware that going be-yond present degrees of pluralism in ministries and lifestyles will most likely be more destructive than creative, both in the beginning and in the end. Regarding Teresian reform of Carmelite life, I.eddy does not recog-nize that Teresa's version of "reweaving" was actually a return to ba-sic structures and religious observance from an "unraveling" that oc-curred precisely because fundamental elements of the original charism had been abandoned or abused. In short, she seems oblivious to this his-torical fact: that Teresa accomplished the genuine renewal of Carmelite religious life not through programmed disintegration but rather through a concerted effort by all to embrace its fundamental structures and heri-tage in order to live them and preserve them in a pristine manner. Deconstruction of Structures and Elimination of Distinctions The current deconstructed functioning of general chapters as parti-cipative consensus-formation assemblies in most women's institutes has engendered both a feeling of members' being "empowered" for gov-ernance and a strong sense of "ownership" of chapter decisions. On the other hand, the new style of general chapters also tends to lessen critical assessment of options and to avoid substantive decisions that distinguish delegates from participants. Simultaneously, such chapters commonly en-act global, carefully crafted, blandly diluted statements whose content can hardly be opposed in theory and can scarcely be assessed in implemen-tation. Currently some women's institutes have so little sense of their own identity and of the role of chapters that they involve nonmembers extensively in chapter proceedings, and some have even suggested that nonmembers may be elected to governance roles. The distinction between major superiors and councils, as well as dif-ferentiation of their roles, has also undergone postconciliar deconstruc-tion. With the advent of collaborative decision-making, major superiors Beyond the Liberal Model / 177 and councils are commonly referred to as leadership teams: their mem-bers share equally the governance/management of the religious institute and are functionally distinguished, if at all, only at the infrequent mo-ments of final decision.,required by law. In relation to actual decision-making, in most institutes there has been a concomitant radical limita-tion or complete elimination of instances in which a supreme moderator or major superior can act without the consent of the council. Most of these alterations seem related to questioning the possession of personal authority by superiors, combined with an all too real (and often all too painful) remembrance of abuse of authority by superiors in the past. The deconstruction of juridic structures and the blurring of gov-ernmental functions apparently meet a need to limit the authority of su-periors through "leadership" language and apparently also reinforce the new participative consensus-niodel chapters in a stance of visibly and ver-bally rejecting whatever has been perceived as hierarchic or patriarchal. Overall, however, the new bureaucratic, business-management model of governance operated by middle-level appointees and committees seems to have produced no overwhelmingly positive verifiable results other than the fact that many members feel very good about it. In other words, it does appear that most people like the feeling of having a part in run-ning the business even if business is not getting any better. Obedience and Mission Closely related to juridic deconstruction and elimination of distinc-tions are postconciliar views espousing dialogical obedience and justice-oriented missions. The seed for a dialogical understanding of obedience was firmly planted by the affirmations of Perfectae Caritatis 14 that superiors should foster an active and responsible obedience in addition to listen-ing to and promoting cooperation among the members of the institute. But after twenty-five years that seed has produced, in many religious in-stitutes of women, a strong undergrowth of resistance to any exercise of personal authority by any superiors. As a result, some prevalent revision-ist versions of vowed obedience consider it to be so personal and dialo-gical that it apparently can never involve a decision made by someone else which must be obeyed. In this framework, attributing final decision-making power to a superior is simply rejected as representing an archaic, unjust sacralization of hierarchic notions about authority, commitment, and obligations, all of which are now considered as negotiable. Action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world were affirmed by the 1971 Synod of Bishops as "constitutive 171~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 dimension[s] of preaching the Gospel" and "of the Church's mission for redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppres-sive situation." And these affirmations quickly became a mandate for religious to work with new or renewed vigor in justice-and-peace endeav-ors throughout the world. However, many religious who recognize action on behalf of justice as a constitutive element of the Gospel appear to have fallen into the er-ror of thinking that action on behalf of justice is also exhaustive of it. There is ample indication that some religious erroneously assess the Church's mission as only or primarily one of unbridled activity in the marketplaces of contemporary society. They frequently quote as a source the document Religious and Human Promotion, but one seldom hears any mention of the document on The Contemplative Dimension of Re-ligious Life. In addition, a selective reading of conciliar texts and post-conciliar documents seems to have created for some religious an urgent mandate for political action and systemic change to the exclusion or ne-glect of any other manner of transforming the world or of preaching the Gospel. In connection with contemporary views of authority and obedi-ence, the mandate for systemic change of oppressive structures seems to be directed increasingly to the internal structures of the Church and of one's own religious institute rather than to the wider world. The social-justice orientation in the revised constitutions of most in-stitutes is primarily the result of an ongoing series of sociological sur-veys initiated in 1965 by the Leadership Conference of Women Relig-ious to provide an information base for resources on renewal. The sur-veys were formulated, distributed, interpreted, and implemented by Marie Augusta Neal, who has written numerous articles and books in the last two decades in order to explain, expound, expand, and defend her work. In her writings Neal admits that the entire purpose of the research surveys had a social-justice orientation. She also acknowledges that con-troversy over the surveys contributed directly to splintering of the (then) Conference of Major Superiors of Women in the early 1970s. And she herself states that the pre- and post-Vatic~in II belief scale contained in the "Sisters' Survey" involving 139,000 women religious in the mid- 1960s "became the most controversial and most discriminating variable, which accounted for the pace and direction of changes in structures of the religious congregations involved in the study."2 Yet Neal has con-sistently defended the soundness of her survey instrument as well as the accuracy of her interpretations, and has increasingly extended her find- Beyond the Liberal Model / 17'9 ings beyond the realm of sociology. Critics of Neal's work point to survey questions formulated in quali-tative language, to information reported in questionable categories, and to Neal's apparently subjective interpretations expressed in her follow-up. memos as being especially problematic. The surveys engendered even more controversy as findings originally proposed as an information base on resources for renewal began to function instead as LCWR's single, central source for pursuing social-justice agendas, for questioning eccle-siastical authority, and for picking up the the pace of renewal. Indeed, the quarter-century survey project that coincided with the postconciliar constitutional revision in women's institutes may arguably be the single most significant factor that can account for the systematic and progres-sive deconstruction evident among so many institutes of women religious today. Abandonment of Common Symbols and Practices Regardless of whether one recognizes or acknowledges an underly-ing internal juridic deconstruction in religious institutes of women, the visible, gradual, and progressive alteration of attire for women religious since Vatican II cannot be denied. The transition in habits has been a pain-ful and emotionally charged issue and is a prime example of the whole-sale abandonment of symbols and symbol systems by women religious since the council. No one is at liberty to argue about whether or not the external identity symbol of the habit has been fundamentally abandoned by numerous women religious, and most agree that whatever has hap-pened is irreversible. Moreover, the "habit issue" represents a nexus of sociological, psychological, behavioral, historical, and theological fac-tors that relate directly to the progressive decline of religious life in Amer-ica. Transformation in the attire of women religious from outdated and unhealthy medieval costumes, to makeshift modified habits, to bought and borrowed secular clothes, to contemporary business suits with com-munity logos, to the stylish garb of modern professionals is reflected in and among women's institutes today. The visible choice of attire, though not completely indicative ofa conservative or liberal model as such, is a somewhat reliable sign of the institute's (and person's) location and di-rection on the spectrum of post-Vatican II transition. The attire worn by the major superior and council of an institute tends to indicate both whether attire choices are possible within the institute and what the most progressive of possible choices might be. These indications, along with when the attire choices became operative, rather accurately reflect 1~10 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 whether the institute operates primarily from a liberal or conservative model (or somewhere in between) and tend to show a transition towards the liberal model. Be that as it may, my reason for discussing the choice of attire is that it is never the only issue being addressed. The attire issue also places in sharp relief a functional distinction between institutes of men and of women. That is, for members of nonmonastic institutes of men, the habit--if they had one--was traditionally a significant form of clothing occasionally donned for community and liturgical exercises or for pro-fessional and pastoral services. In .contrast, for all institutes of women-- with rare exception--the habit was traditionally their primary identifi-cation symbol and was also often the only clothes they had to wear. Ad-ditionally, the habit issue highlights a significant difference in response to legal norms on the part of men and of women, namely: The 1917 code required that habits be worn by all members of all institutes at all times, both inside and outside the religious house; women consistently did what the law said, while men rather consistently did not. Thus, ~the almost vis-ceral reaction (of some) to the matter of the habit should not be surpris-ing. More fundamentally, however, numerous other unifying and mean-ingful symbols and practices disappeared along with the habit in religious institutes of women after Vatican II. Common meals and lodging, com-mon prayers and songs, common recreation and study, as well as com-mon moments of joy and suffering, were generally minimized, mildly disdained, or summarily abandoned in a veritable onslaught of Ameri-can, postconciliar, egalitarian, pluralistic individualism and activism. Some would suggest that in this process women religious have become less oppressed, more mature and free for service. Many others would sug-gest, in contrast, that the primary result of abandoning symbol systems and common practices has been a pervasive and overwhelming experi-ence of inner emptiness and outer loneliness made more acute by recog-nition that there simply is no longer any "common glue" to hold insti-tutes of women religious together at simple, fundamental, indispensable levels of human relationship. Transformations in Community Life and Ministry Additional consequences Of postconciliar deconstruction in women's institutes concern: (1) how members live together and relate to one an-other, or--in other words--the change in what was formerly referred to as common life or community; and (2) how members happen to arrive in a particular place doing a particular job, or--in other words--the Beyond the Liberal Model / 1~11 change in what was formerly referred to as receiving an assignment or being missioned. Without detailing here the canonical requirements for common life and its broad and strict interpretation, it was obviously common prac-tice in.the past for religious to live with other members of their commu-nity in the same residence with at least relatively equal access to food, clothing, shelter, and furnishings. Exceptions to common life were al-ways possible and sometimes actual but generally remained just that: ex-ceptions. Since the council, however, more religious now live "outside a house" of the institute for extended periods of time and for a variety of reasons, including apostolate, health, and study. Moreover, it is cur-rently common for a woman religious to live outside a house of her in-stitute either (1) because she cannot find a house in which she is collec-tively "accepted" by sisters already in the house according to their es-tablished expectations of community, or (2) because the sister herself can-not find a house in which she feels she can live comfortably and con-structively according to her already established expectations. Since Vatican II, members of religious institutes have been forced to deal regularly with high degrees of constant uncertainty, and simulta-neously they have had great demands for intense interpersonal relating placed on them. Religious institutes and individual women religious have devoted varying amounts of time, energy, and resources to bemoaning or extolling postconciliar relational developments and demands. And at present many institutes and their members are so caught up in personal relational issues and self-help programs as to convey the impression that, if only every sister would study her Myers-Briggs profile and identify the consequences of her Enneagram number and join the appropriate recov-ery or codependency program, then community life would irreversibly begin to get out of the present morass of personal malaise and interper-sonal dysfunctionality. Meanwhile, however, most members of liberal-model institutes no longer live in community, but merely relate to it functionally. It is usu-ally easier for major superiors to allow members to live outside a house of the institute than to deal constructively with problems in houses of the institute. Those members who continue to live in community seem, in most institutes, to have circumstantially or preferentially sorted them-selves into relatively permanent subgroups by age differentiation or work relations or ideological orientations or dyad/triad dependencies. And quite a few women religious depend regularly--and sometimes exten-sively--- on professional colleagues or family members for ongoing per- 1~12 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 sonal support and meaningful human interaction rather than on their re-ligious community. Related to changes in community living is the alteration since Vati-can II of how most women religious arrive in a particular place doing a particular job. A process of "open placement" now predominates, which usually means that the religious works with the institute's person-nel director or board in following previously established community cri-teria for seeking apostolic involvement or other gainful employment. Fre-quently in this system contracts are negotiated between the sister and the employer and are then submitted to the personnel director or board for review and informal approval. Eventually, finalized arrangements are rati-fied by the competent major superior, and the sister is missioned or as-signed to her new apostolate or job with, if possible, some form of rit-ual solemnization of the process. Some provision for housing is neces-sarily connected to the missioning, but living in community is not usu-ally a priority among the criteria for seeking employment, and so excep-tions to common life proliferate. The Sociology of Liberal Individualism Recently Robert Bellah and several other sociologists published a re-vealing analysis of the phenomenon and failure of liberal individualism in America, entitled Habits of the Heart. Among other things, this analy-sis suggests that American culture reflects a radically liberal society of psychologically sophisticated but morally impoverished individuals who demonstrate a "narcissism of similarity" by associating in "lifestyle enclaves." These enclaves are composed of the like-minded who share comparable desires for leisure, recreation, and consumer goods and who, by their self-chosen values, have been freed from traditional ethnic and religious boundaries while simultaneously justifying their own prefer-ences. Further, Bellah and his colleagues suggest that, in American so-ciety, people's felt need for personal fulfillment---ever elusive--has re-sulted in their substituting short-term "therapeutic relationships" be-tween "self-actualized" individuals for the genuine, creative relation-ship of love. This, in turn, has resulted in replacing obligation and com-mitment with a new "virtue": open and honest communication in which everything at all times is considered negotiable except the individual's self-chosen objectified values. The study suggests, further, that American society lacks the identity which should have or could have emerged from the ordered freedom of practical rituals and moral structures which it has abandoned. Moreover, it seems unable to return to the "constitutive narrative" of its tradition, Beyond the Liberal Model because that would be perceived as opting for once-jettisoned oppressive structures. Consequently, the lonely, self-actualized, rugged individuals of the late, great American Empire--still not comprehending what it is that might assuage their longings--have taken collective refuge in a cor-porate bureaucracy of professional managers, therapists, and other ex-perts whose task it is to foster administrative centralization, to facilitate reciprocal tolerance, and to "empower" all citizens for institutional par-ticipation and creative innovation. The problem is, however, according to Bellah and his colleagues: It simply has not worked, and the seriously ill "social ecology" of American culture is very much in danger of per-manent demise. There are striking similarities between this sociological analysis of American culture and the current liberal model of active religious life for women. Tradition has been abandoned, and the past is perceived as op-pressive. Institutes have become business corporations, and governance has become collaborative administration. Structures have become parti-cipative, and superiors are now primarily managers. Formation person-nel and spiritual directors now function primarily as therapists. Facilita-tors are experts for achieving consensus formation, as well as catalysts for creative innovation. All members are becoming empowered for de-cision- making, although not many members claim responsibility for any particular decision. Obedience is increasingly negotiable, and personal fulfillment dominates most choices. Communities have become lifestyle enclaves composed of occasionally present, like-minded individuals. Eve-ryone is now somehow accountable, but few (if any) religious are called to accountability by anyone for anything. Communication is the cardi-nal virtue, and everyone is progressing towards greater self-actualization. The problem is, of course: It all simply does not work. American women religious today still seem not to have discovered what it is that might as-suage their longings, and the seriously ill social ecology of their lives is very much in danger of p~rmanent demise. The Psychology of Selfism Directly related to the sociological phenomena that seem to parallel the deconstruction of religious life is the psychological phenomenon that contemporary American culture, according to Bellah, is basically impov-erished by an insatiable preoccupation with self. In most cultures reli-gion is considered a primary source for character formation and for the development of social mores. However, in the psychology of selfism which seems to permeate American culture, the primary reality is the self that one's own unique choices have created. The isolated, self-created 1 ~14 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 individual then commits himself or herself to self-defined and self-defining decisions. In this ambiance, personality development and be-havior modification replace the character formation and the social mo-res that are ordinarily provided by traditional religion, because preex-isting principles for character or mores are perceived as either non-existent or unimportant. For selfism in America, the psychological myth of the intrinsically good Utopian self parallels and supports the social and political myths of the intrinsically perfect Utopian state, while the psychological ten-dency to self-indulgence both rationalizes and celebrates the consumer society. When the interior fiber for duty, patience, suffering, and self-sacrifice is absent or wanting in the individual, the psychology of selfism conveniently shifts a locus of responsibility for the vacuum or the defi-ciency to the failures and foibles of parents, siblings, associates, and cir-cumstances. Selfism also legitimizes and perpetuates the late-adolescent attitudes of routine rebellion, rejection of authority, and preoccupation with sex. In short, it appears to be a ready-made, perfect internal sup-port for the sociology of American liberal individualism. Obviously, in relation to religious life, the once-hidden issues of psy-chological development and emotional maturity have been a rather pub-lic part of the transition in institutes of women (and of men) since Vati-can II. It may be that women religious really were not emotionally well-prepared for so many drastic, rapid-fire changes in their lives and, fur-ther, that they have not handled them all that well in the long run. To be sure, the recent deluge of books, articles, programs, and apparent pana-ceas produced by religious and for religious on topics of maturity related to religious is overwhelming. Patently, the popularity of this genre among women religious is not indicative of merely occasional light read-ing for the already self-actualized and emotionally mature. Thus, it seems reasonable to suggest that American women religious might be suf-fering not only from the effects of American liberal individualism but also from some lack of maturity as a consequence of its underlying psy-chology of selfism. Absence of Charism Genuine charisms for consecrated lifeforms are windows on the Gos-pel that provide a vision So clear that founders and foundresses --and then their companions--seem compelled to "do likewise" and follow Jesus. Or, again, charisms might be described as good seeds growing in fertile ground in a particular time and place and having the capacity to Beyond the Liberal Model multiply and bear fruit and also to be transplanted successfully to other ages and other cultures. True charisms of religious life are founded on sound but supple structures, are surrounded by long-standing and forma-tive customs, are nourished by deep-rooted and healthy spirituality, are manifest in valuable and long-term ecclesial service, and are--most es-pecially-~ expressions of a meaningful and compelling way of following Jesus. Charisms are not constituted merely by being a particular-apos-tolic expression of a particular corporal or spiritual work of mercy, how-ever necessary and valuable such endeavors may be; nor can charisms be humanly built by "refounding" or personally manufactured by "reweaving." They are gifts received, embraced, and lived--with re-ceptive and responsive elements indispensable to their basic rea~].ty---or they are not true charisms at all. Unfortunately, when active institutes of women religious went in search of their roots in the mandated renewal subsequent to Vatican II, most were confronted with the absence of a genuine, unique charism. And most women's institutes apparently either could not or would not recognize that absence for what it really meant, namely: They actually had no sound structures, no formative customs, no deep-rooted spiritu-ality, no long-term ecclesial service, no meaningful and compelling way of life they could call their own. In short, they had no genuine spiritual patrimony or religious heritage to which they could return and from which they could move into the future. The absence of a genuine, unique charism in most women's:institutes explains in part why intercommunity living and common novitiates have been so readily initiated and so successful. One cannot imagine, for ex-ample, Jesuit men and Dominican men opting for total intercommunity living situations and sharing totally common novitiates as if there were no deep and visible, distinctly different elements in their charisms. Yet many women religious whose institutes claim unique charisms share com-munity living and novitiates on a regular basis and consider it a wonder-ful sign of progress in collaboration. Lack of charism in many :women's institutes also explains in part why they have been so readily eclectic in the process of spiritual renewal and why most supposedly pristine house-of- prayer movements have been so short-lived and superficial .3 Further, lack of charism explains in part why it has been so difficult for these in-stitutes to adapt and renew successfully in the postconciliar era. Indeed, the provinces of some men's institutes are actually more distinct in ex-pressions of their charism than are many independent institutes of women who attempted after the council to rewrite constitutions and fashion mis- 116 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 sion statements unique to them on the basis of their supposedly unique charisms. Though the fault for lack of charism was not theirs, the consequences for these institutes have been nearly fatal. Most--but not all--active in-stitutes of women religious founded in, or transferred to, this country in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were either New World adapta-tions of ancient and medieval monastic communities, such as the Bene-dictines and the Dominicans, or groups of dedicated pioneer women re-sponding generously to the practical needs of an immigrant Church in frontier America. Some, such as the Ursulines and the Daughters of Char-ity, had never been allowed to embrace or live the authentic, original ex-pression of their charism, which is now recognized as the forerunner to the consecrated lifeform of secular institutes. All active women's insti-tutes in frontier America were forced by circumstance or mandate to adopt a semimonastic, conventual style of religious life whether or not this was appropriate to their current function or past experience. Struc-tures, as well as theology and spirituality and apostolate and customs, are integral to the authentic expression of a genuine, unique charism. Thus it is not surprising that progressive deconstruction in women's in-stitutes has been so rapid and so complete for those institutes which, when seeking their roots, found only a monastic heritage adapted to the structures of conventual religious life or found no heritage that ever re-ally fit into the structures of conventual religious life in the first place. Possibilities for the Future Suggestions have been made that, in order to survive, women reli-gious should respond more fully to the risks of opting for the poor, or expand their pluralistic polarization even further, or revitalize for the sake of mission, or manage systemic change more constructively, or com-bine judiciously with other institutes of similar heritage. But no degree of social-justice activity, no amount of pluralism, no programmed revitalization, no constructively managed change, and no combined mem-bership will supply for the absence of a charism, which simply cannot be summarily manufactured and without which no institute has any fu-ture. It is possible, however, that active institutes of women religious in America can consciously decide about their future in honest relationship to their past. Some may feel they have actually been successfully grafted into an ancient or medieval charism expressed in conventual form and may wish to continue that expression of religious life. Some may find Beyond the Liberal Model it more realistic to return to what was originally intended by the founder/ foundress even if that choice would place them today in a different ju-ridic category of consecrated lifeform, such as secular institutes. Others may find it more realistic for members to form totally different commu-nities in accord with the prevalent spectrum of conservative and tradi-tional ideologies among their membership. Still others may decide quite honestly that their time of existence and service in and through the Church is actually past and that their greatest present witness might be to go out of existence with dignity and grace. From my experience, those in positions of authority in many women's institutes either do not recognize or simply will not admit the above possibilities, just as they either do not recognize or will not admit that the present course of supposed renewal is toward eventual demise. And, from my experience, the members of most women's institutes either are unaware of what is actually happening or, being aware, sim-ply wish to stay the course because it appears or feels advantageous to them at the moment. In either case, the result is that members tend to choose for leadership only those persons who will perpetuate the status quo, which in turn continues the present direction of programmed decon-struction. Unfortunately, most women's institutes seem deaf to suggestions that current, supposedly great refounding trends are futile, not only because they are based primarily on product-oriented business-management mod-els, but also because there is--in most cases--actually nothing to re-found. Though most seem enthralled by distant visions of supposedly "new forms" of religious life, they seem not to see before their eyes the current practical drift of religious life in America to the practices and lifestyle of the already well-established category of secular institutes. Io fact, opting for secular-institute status might be a more honest way for some institutes to become what they were originally and are meant to be than is their present path of deconstruction under the ~uise of creating "new forms" of religious life. Finally, many women's institutes seem heartened by prospects of increased membership through mergers and un-ions as a recipe for survival. Although combining institutes may be a ju-dicious course of action in view of practical needs, those who look to this for survival should reread carefully the story of Gideon: There is no safety in numbers if you are not doing God's will in God's way; and if you are, numbers really do not matter very much at all. Although, from my experience, most active institutes of women re-ligious in America simply do not have the slightest idea where they are 1111~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 going or why, there are many members of many institutes who do want to go somewhere with meaning. While not wishing to return to the past, they also do not wish to abandon it, and they still hope for a future of renewed religious life somehow rooted in it. Unfortunately, current modes of participative consensus-model governance not only edit out such voices but also make it nearly impossible to know about or be in constructive contact with those who have similar desires. Perhaps, then, some hope for the future also can be found in more grassroots, intra- and inter-congregational communication by those who are both weary and wary of the present programmed deconstruction they experience. All that is really necessary for continuation in the present path of increased po-larization and progressive decline to the point of extinction is that enough women religious continue to say or do nothing about it. NOTES i The substantive content of this article is taken from a book chapter of the same ti-tle and is used with permission of the editors. See lus Sequitur Vitam: To Pier Huiz-ing in Recognition of a Life Dedicated to a Living Law in the Church, edited by James Provost and Knut Wall and scheduled for publicatiofl by Peeters of Leuven i.n February 1991. The book chapter is much longer, has a definitely canonical ori-entation, and contains numerous, lengthy, substantive footnotes. 2 See Marie Augusta Neal, From Nuns to Sisters: An Expanding Vocation (Mystic, Conn.:Twenty-Third'Publications, 1990), for her positions in general and pp. 126- 127, n. 9, for this quotation. More detailed comments on the survey are contained in the book chapter cited above, especially at footnotes 12 and 29-34. 3 See J.M.R. Tillard, "Vingt ans de grace?" in Vie Consacr~e 58 (1986): 323- 340. The S.P.E.A.K. Model: An Approach to Continuing Formation Mary Mortz, D.M.J. Sister Mary Mortz, D.M.J., serves as a provincial councilor for her province of the Daughters of Mary and Joseph. With her degree in rehabilitation and religious stud-ies, she teaches mentally and emotionally disturbed children. Her address is 419 East Lancaster Boulevard; Lancaster, California 93535. Continuing formation means that the work of God has begun, and we con-tinue to cooperate with his work in and through us. Many of our consti-tutions state that each of us as a perpetually professed religious is respon-sible for our own continuing formation, though we are accountable to com-munity leadership. We have workshop opportunities extended to us, but there still seems to be a void in terms of specific steps to take to know that we are really growing as much as the Lord is calling us to grow. Many articles written for us today in religious journals seem to re-flect a growing need for focus in this area of continuing formation. They address issues of the compulsions and codependency in our society and in our religious lives. These issues are influencing us spiritually, emo-tionally, relationally, physically, and in our ministry. Many of these ar-ticles conclude with the suggestion that the reader investigate the 12- step programs such as Alcoholics Anonymous. The S.P.E.A.K. model begins where these articles conclude, Many religious men and women are finding the 12-step journey to be a power-ful resource. This model comes from reflecting upon the experiences which many have shared with me--priests, religious men and women, and lay persons. It is a summary of what we have found to be helpful for us. It is offered as a resource tool for anyone looking for more spe-cific help in this deepening journey of spirituality and ministry. 189 190 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 Summary of the Model There are three parts which serve as the basis for the S.P.E.A.K. model. First, the 12 steps are used as concrete steps or tools for continu-ing growth. Second, it is holistic. It includes the aspects of our lives as people who are Spiritual, Physical, Emotional, Apostolic, and relational (Koinonia). Third, each person selects a formation companion. The reason for basing the model upon the 12 steps is that they have proved to be very effective for thousands of people as a tool for us to use to evaluate our level of trust in God, to examine our lives, to make changes when we see we need to do so, to maintain an abiding attitude of balance and prayer in our lives and in our ministry and relationships with others. As we look at these 12 steps taken as a group, it is very apparent that we are returning to all that has been best for us in our previous routines of the spiritual life: regular daily examen, confession and extraordinary confession, retreats, daily spiritual reading, prayer, community sharing of our growth with each other, and profound dedication to sharing the Good News with a troubled world. The reason for basing the model upon a holistic view is that it is very easy for us to allow one or two areas of life to receive our attention. The challenge of life is to live in such a wholesomely balanced way that we proclaim Jesus, his Spirit~-and his Father's love by being the wonder-fully created person we are called to be spiritually, physically, emotion-ally, relationally, and in our ministry. The reason for basing the model upon having a formation compan-ion is twofold. It is a privileged thing to have someone who loves us un-. conditionally, even when we let the other person really know us. This frees us to grow even more. Secondly, it helps us to become very, very honest with ourselves and with our God when we agree to share what is happening in our lives at a deep and personal level with at least one other human being. This facilitates an attitude of openness and honesty which is an essential prerequisite of continuing formation. The Twelve Steps It is important to remember that even though one of the areas of the S.P.E.A.K. model is the spiritual, all the areas of our life are permeated by the principles of the spiritual journey. We keep taking these steps over and over in all areas of life, and new insights become revealed to us. Per-haps it is no coincidence that there were 12 tribes, 12 apostles, and now the foundation of 12 steps! Sometimes it is said that a coincidence is a miracle when God chooses to be anonymous. The S.P.E.A.K. Model / "191 Orginally there were six steps as part of a spiritual movement called the Oxford movement, but those using these steps in A.A. realized they needed a little more guidance and expanded them to 12. The basic sense of these 12 steps can be divided into three groups. In steps 1-3 we come to a profound sense of what it means to really trust God. In steps 4-11, we clean our house, and continue to keep it clean. In step 12 we work to practice these principles in all our affairs, all as-pects of our lives. It can be a temptation for us to approach the steps rationally, to ana-lyze why they work. This is not the issue for those using the S.P.E.A.K. model. The issue is to walk these steps personally, humbly with heart, gut, and head. An analogy might be that we can read inspirational arti-cles about exercise and walking until the cows come home, but if we do not put one foot in front of the other and go walking, we cannot go very far or get in very good shape. Step One. We admitted we were powerless over life's conditions, that our lives had become unmanageable. (In the A.A. literature, this step reads, "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol--that our lives had become unmanageable." This is the only step that is changed in the S.P.E.A.K. model.) Even though other steps may seem to be more threatening in the be-ginning, it seems that the hardest step for us to take is step one. This is also the first be-attitude (Beatitude). The journey begins when we can finally be at a point in our lives where we are ready to surrender, to let go, to realize that there is something in our lives over which we have no control. Then we are ready to let God in to take over, to begin again in a new and deeper way this thing called his continuing formation. Our "something," our life condition, may be other people who are in our lives, some part of work, our relationships, our predominant com-pulsions, our health, our behavior, our self-perceptions, our resentments, fears, anxiety, our sin, our habits, our way of being "off the mark." There are many resources available to help us see our personal pow-erlessness. Some of these ways are: meditation using available schools of spirituality, or we might just sit, as in Zen guided ways, or use ap-proaches to centering prayer. We might pursue the insight into our par-ticular compulsions through the study of the Enneagram. We also might just listen to our own lives if we are having pain. Pain is a wonderful catalyst to growth! If we really want to take this step honestly, it is much easier if we share our "muddling through it" with another person. Whatever means Review for Religious, March-April 1991 we use, it is important to know that this S.P.E.A.K. model is not possi-ble until we take step one. Step Two. "Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity." Sanity means wholeness. It means balance. Once we find ourselves in real need of change, our challenge is to allow ourselves to "come to," to wake up as if from the slumber or self-delusion we were in. The only assent required at this step is to believe that we are not the center of our universe, that there is a power greater than ourselves, that we are loved, and that we can become powerfully renewed. Ephesians 4:22-24 is one of many texts which comes to mind at this step. You must give up your old way of life; you must put aside your old self, which gets corrupted by following illusory desires. Your mind must be renewed by a spiritual revolution so that you can put on the new self that has been created in God's way, in the goodness and holiness of truth. Step Three. "Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him." This step leads us to accept God's power in our lives. In step two we may want the revolution to happen. We might believe it possible, but it is in step three that we make a specific decision to let go and to let God take over. Revolution means change, and that is what we give consent to in step three without controlling any part of it. When we speak of such trust, we are using our own words, our own sense of who, at this time, God is for me. We make a prayer of this step and share it with another hu-man being. These steps are not done in the dark, but we bring them to the light and speak them to another. Step Four. "Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our-selves.". We all have instincts. Most fall into the areas of social instincts, secu-rity instincts, and sexual instincts. Again it seems no coincidence that our vows are in the areas of obedience, poverty, and chastity. In this step, we accept to look at our lives as the beginning of a lifetime prac-tice. We look in a searching way at fears, resentments, harms, and hurts we have done, and which have been done to us. We name the instincts which are threatened, and our responses to them. We come to see our not-so-good patterns, our character defects, and our gifts, our assets as well. We see how we have been growing, and how we have yet to grow. The word, "fearless" is very important~ If we find ourselves resist-ing this inventory, then there is nothing wrong with staying at steps one, The S.P.E.A.K. Model / 193 two, or three. When we have become tired of life's condition, when we can believe that we can change, when we have really taken step three, then step four will follow comfortably without fear. Step Five. "Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human be-ing the exact nature of our wrongs." In this step we invite another human being to be with us as we say out loud what we have learned in step four. There are many ways to do this, but as we come to name our patterns, our ways of responding, we gain insights, especially if the other person has taken this step, and truly loves us. To bring awareness before God is one thing, and it is beauti-ful. To bring awareness before God and another human being, to share it, to own it in the light is both beautiful and a blessing. This step helps us to stop isolating, to experience many profound les-sons in humility, to experience a whole new sense of kinship, of one-ness with others and with God. This kinship opens us to a connected-ness with whole new insights into the human condition, our place in the world, and a God consciousness which becomes a personal experience. Step Six. "Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. ' ' After the insights are gained in step five, more action is required. We do not only gain insight on this spiritual journey, but we use the in-sights. We made a decision in step three to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him; now in this step we real-ize that we are still very resistant people. We have worked hard to de-velop the defects we have. We wonder, "Who am I if I let go of them?" We even let ourselves chuckle at how we are as self-centered little chil-dren, and pray to get ready to let go of those defects of our character which we have learned about. Sometimes we say, "Of course I want them taken away," and this step is easy, but if that is not our experience at any given time, we accept to admit this is the step we are taking. Step Seven. "Humbly asked him tO remove our shortcomings." When we feel we are in charge, we try to use willpower, or positive imaging instead of taking this step. This step calls for us again to admit our powerlessness, our need for God. It is ego puncturing because we admit we cannot do this of ourselves. As St. Paul says. "I do the things I do not want to do." This step frees us from the trap of pride and fear. Little by little after we take this step, we find ourselves thinking differ-ently, feeling differently, r.esponding differently. People and situations around us change, if we have prayed our own seventh step prayer out loud with another human being. 194 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 Step Eight. "Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became will-ing to make amends to them all." In religious life many of us were trained to forgive., forgive. forgive. This is essential; however, the eighth step helps us to focus on the resentments, the fears, the harms, and the hurts of our lives by paying attention to our responses. We can forgive and fester externally or internally for a long, long time! As we shared our fifth step, we became aware of ways in which our responses might have "needed improvement," or perhaps we were out-and- out vindictive. This step is best taken with another person to help us be thorough, to help ourselves not to hide, to isolate, or to be too hard on ourselves. Again, if this becomes fearful, perhaps there is a need to look at how badly we want this growth, the quality of our surrender and trust, and the reality of our seventh step. But we can also remember we are only making a list in this step. Step Nine. "Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, ex-cept when to do so would injure them or others." This step is also best discerned with another person, both to keep us honest as well as to help us figure out the best way to go about this ac-tion. Sometimes a person has died. Sometimes the person has moved, or we moved away. A letter might be enough, or we might need to wait to see her or him again. Sometimes it is best to let it go, and our forma-tion companion can help us decide when this is really true. Regardless, the freedom which comes inside us as we become ready to take responsibility for the consequences of our behavior is very exhilarating. Step Ten. "Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it." In order for the spiritual revolution to continue, we need to remain ready. Step ten is really a daily, weekly, monthly, and annual review of steps two through nine. There are many ways and resources available to us to use in this step. One way is to allow our dreams to happen, to write them down, to "mull over" their meaning with our formation compan-ion. Another is to be faithful to writing in a notebook of some sort a mini-fourth step, a summary of the good and the not-so-good of the day, to share it, then to do steps six through nine with what we learn. The more we do this, the easier and more comfortable it becomes. Step Eleven. "Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our con-scious contact with God as we understood him, praying only for knowl-edge of his will for us and the power to carry that out." The S.P.E.A.K. Model I 195 As we do the preliminary steps and work this step, we find that every-thing else is also "falling into place." We work this step as humble, empty vessels who know our need for God. We accept to be still, to lis-ten, to receive. Just as we could use the many resources available to us in the Church to take step one, we can also draw upon these resources to help us deepen in step eleven. There are three centers out of which we operate--the gut, the head, and the heart. Our predominant sin is located in there somewhere, and so is our growth. Perhaps centering prayer, the prayer of nothingness, is our vehicle. Perhaps more head-centered meditation on Scripture and spiritual teach-ings is our vehicle. Perhaps contemplation of images and affective re-sponse to them serve as our vehicle. Perhaps being with nature, or litur-gical celebrations, or devotions become our vehicles. The important thing is that we be as we are called to be. We have learned in these steps to let go and let God. If we share how we feel with our formation com-panion, this step becomes a profound and nourishing experience. In this step an awakening happens which leads us to hunger after holi-ness (wholeness) in all areas of our life. Our emotions become balanced. Our bodies seek proper rest, work and play rhythms, food and drink. We hunger for a sharing of peace and reconciliation in our relationships and in the world. We find ourselves led deeply to the roots of our religious lives, to a sense of meaning of sacrament and church, of our community's charism, and we become ready to witness this new sense in our relation-ships and in our ministry. Step Twelve. "Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to others, and to practice these prin-ciples in all our affairs." We have received a free gift. We can work to keep it alive, but if we hold on to it exclusively, it becomes stagnant. That is the nature of the spiritual journey. As a result of these steps, we have known a spiri-tual awakening. We have known love, a God and Gospel consciousness at a personal level. The irony of this love is that we must let it go if we are to hold on to it. Anything we used to hold on to is constantly chal-lenged by the gift of our new God-relationship. We find ourselves driven to live right attitudes--to develop God attitudes, the be-attitudes, to do his Way in all of our life. Select a Formation Companion We have a long-standing precedent for having a spiritual compan- Review for Religious, March-April 1991 ion within the Church as well as within many of the Oriental religions. However, even though we have been encouraged to avail of spiritual direc-tors, many religious have not availed themselves of these opportunities. This was for a variety of reasons. Some wondered what there was to talk about. Some could not find someone who felt qualified. Some used a con-fessor, and kept the focus more sin-and problem-centered. Some used spiritual directors, but restricted the interactions to areas of the spiritual domain. Others have used a spiritual director as a formation companion without naming the person as such. This latter group knows the power and potential for having a formation companion. The qualification for being someone's companion is that we are also working these steps, and sharing honestly of ourselves with someone. No advanced degrees are required because it is humility found in a relationship with God that we seek. The formation companion could be male or female, priest, religious, or lay person. What is important for us is that our companion understand these steps, and be willing to walk with us as we journey them. The criterion we use to ask someone to serve as our formation com-panion is that we feel this person cares for us, has common sense,~,and is also working a "formation program." Our companion calls us to honesty and celebrates growth with us, but this person does not attempt to fill any need other than serving as the formation companion. As we grow, we may find ourselves broadening and using many others to share our journey. We may use physicians, psy-chologists, a spiritual support group, the people with whom we live, other friends, our superiors, our employers, a confessor. The Areas of the S.P.E.A.K. Model Spiritual The steps lead us completely in this area. As we grow in this spiri-tual revolution and in union through steps one through eleven, we de-velop insights that lead us to hunger for balance in the other areas. We find that as we deepen and grow in this area, if there has been careless-ness in the communal expression of our prayer, even this turns around. We soften. We find time where time was not to be found before. We hun-ger to be with each other in our religious expression as well as in the deeper leadings of the area of Koinonia. Physical The body is essential for us if we are to operate as feeling, relating The S.P.E.A.K. Model / 197 human beings. It is a vital source for information about our lives, and a key support for us to function in all areas. Our bodies can be scream-ing warnings to us if we will pay attention. For example, our bodies tell us if we are suppressing feelings or living relationships in ways that are dishonest to ourselves or to others. We can experience gastrointestinal problems, ulcers, high blood pressure, cancer, and back problems. If there is rigidity in the muscles, there is often rigidity in the emotions and spirit. The challenge of this area is to listen to the cues, to work the steps to learn what is happening, and to develop habits which are life-giving, respectful, and nurturing for the body as well as the other areas of our lives. If we listen to the input of others as well as observe our own lives, we may see that we are making body choices which are harmful to the other S.P.E.A.K. areas. For example, we might be choosing the use of substances such as nicotine, caffeine, alcohol, or sugar as substitutes for feeling, or to fill emotional, spiritual, or relational lack. In addition to life choices which affec( our continuing formation, there are those choices for fast food, for beef, for comfort and conven-ience which have implications for the rest of the world's famine and un-dernutrition. Part of the challenge of this area is the aspect of practicing the physi-cal and spiritual discipline of fasting to detoxify and rebalance the body, to reverse even degenerative illness, and to bring ourselves into a deeper harmony with others. Just as we need to keep working these steps in the other areas where physical inertia is seen, we have a cue that an imbalance is happening, and an opportunity to reflect upon the reason for this shutdown. Inertia is life denying. The body requires regular aerobic movement to increase the circulatory flow, the metabolic rate for heart, skeletal and muscular tone, for body conditioning, and to allow for oxygen to get to the brain. Emotional One of the promises of the awakening which we experience in step eleven is a sense that emotional balance and wholeness are happening. Before we experience this balance, however, we would have taken some serious steps to be ready for inner healing. These steps take time, and as we learn more about who we are, we can continue to share this with another, work with it, work these steps and deepen. Perhaps as we did our inventory, we saw patterns of overinflated or underinflated self-esteem, patterns of overe.ngagement in activity or serv-ice, perfectionism, depression, fear, resentments. Perhaps we saw that 198 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 we isolate from others, do not share our feelings. Perhaps we give our love and attention to pets, compare ourselves to others, blame others, feel jealous, judge people's motives, interpret others' motives to others, think rigidly either positively or negatively about others, isolate ourselves from others or hide our feelings or practice. Perhaps we use food or drink, work, sex to hide from feelings. The task of these steps is to bring the darkness to light, that the dark-ness may lose its power over us. In the S.P.E.A.K. model, we practice naming our feelings, reflecting upon what happens to trigger them, look-ing at our instincts which we perceive as being threatened and at our re-sponses to these threats. As we practice this and work steps two through nine, we find ourselves growing much stronger, more serene, more pow-erful, and more humble. Apostolic Today's society, the "world" of St. John's gospel, rewards us if we have power. We are encouraged to become specialists. This applies to the areas of medicine, psychology, sbcial work, education, spiritual direction, and pastoral ministry. It is easy for us to be sensitive to our congregational financial pressures, to time demands, and to be seduced by this world. For those walking the Gospel path, working the 12 steps, the value of our apostolic mission is in living out our spiritual awakening and ex-perience. This is why the spiritual, emotional, and koinonia areas are so important as prerequisites to ministry. Our mission is to be the charism of our congregations in deep solidarity with the anguish which is under-neath all the glitter of power and success. If we are not yet comfortable with our own anguish, and with sharing it with others, we cannot con-vey this experience to others. As Nouwen says, our leadership, our value lies in that we dare to claim our irrelevancy in the contemporary world. We are parts of insti-tutions, but our challenge is to be humble, to work these steps, to walk a spiritual path, to reflect the koinonia attitude in how we reflect the mer-ciful love and justice of God with others. Koinonia In the 12 steps, we come to let go of fears or pseudocommunity pre-tenses, self-seeking, and control. The 12 steps help us to relate more hon-estly, more compassionately to the people with whom we live and work, but there is anoiher dimension beyond this. Koinonia is a Greek word meaning "a deep sense of interconnectedness, of communion with oth- The S.P.E.A.K. Model ers at the faith level." Rollo May suggests that our entire culture is schizoid, out of touch, avoiding close relationships, unable to feel, unable to express aggressive feelings directly, seclusive and personally withdrawn. In this koinonia area we measure our lifestyles against the radical demands of the Gos-pel model of Jesus. We contrast it with the dominant values of society, the dependencies, the addictions, the fear, and the lack of touch. Koinonia challenges us to see the whole world as a community. Our new spiritual awakening leads us to hunger to create a new civilization in which war, violence, terrorism, and oppression are banished. We know from our own personal experience that another way is possible. No one of us can do this of ourselves, but just as the early Church persisted, and pervades the earth today, so can we, one small community at a time! For interrelatedness to happen in this world, people have to be in-terrelating; then God takes over and lets the miracles happen. We let go, and let him. The challenge of koinonia is for us to drop pretenses, to leave the door open for others to see us cry, to be with us as we grow, to hear our laughter, to let people see how we love each other. From this koinonia sense, we grow to be able to include others, to let them walk in and touch us so that even more of us are empowered to know and wit-ness to his Good News. Summary The power of the S.P.E.A.K. model lies in our openness to continue to let go, to let God be God in our lives. We use and continue to use the 12 steps and a formation companion so that we deepen in a personal relationship with him. We work and pray to be teachable spiritually, physi-cally, emotionally, relati0nally, and in our ministry, not for ourselves, but so that a troubled world may know what w.e see, and hear, and know. As a direct result of working this program, of walking these steps, we find that we no longer have to hold up masks of spiritual perfection since we are "professional," vowed religious. Instead, we have become free to share our struggle with others as equals in his love. We share our spiritual progress. We do not need to be self-protective anymore, but our arms are open to include others. There is nothing to fear because there is nothing to protect. If there is concern as to how to start with these twelve steps, there are often ready and available resources in each local parish and in many retreat houses and religious communities. Many parishes have good solid parish leaders who are recovering from some compulsive pattern or ad-diction. These people are more than ready to share the Good News with 200 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 us. Also, many religious communities and retreat houses have members in 12-step programs, or who have learned of these steps by exploring them in their own lives. These people are also usually more than gener-ous in sharing what they have seen and heard with their own eyes and ears. 'RESOURCES Alcoholics Anonymous.Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. New York: Alcohol-ics Anonymous World Services, Inc., 1981. Elgin, Duane. Voluntary Simplicity: Toward A Way of Life That Is Outwardly Sim-ple, Inwardly Rich. N.Y.: William Morrow & Co., 1981. Hart, Thomas N. The Art of Christian Listening. N.Y.: Paulist Press. 1980. Main, John, O.S.B. Death: The Inner Journey. Montreal: Benedictine Priory, 1983. Nouwen, Henri. With OutStretched Hands: Reflections on Christian Leadership in the Future. Unpublished paper, 1989. Palmer, Helen. Enneagram: Understanding Yourself and the Others in Your Life. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988. Peck, M. Scott. The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace. New York: Si-mon & Shuster, 1987. Schaef, Anne W. Co-Dependence: Misunderstood--Mistreated. Minneapolis, MN: Winston Press, 1986. Sperry, Len. "Daily Decisions About Nutrition." Human Development 9 (Spring, 1988). Pp. 40-46. Subby, Robert, and Fried, John. "Co-Dependence: A Paradoxical Dependency," in Co-Dependency! An Emerging Issue, Pompano Beach, Florida: Hath Communi-cations, 1984. Trungpa, Chogyam. Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism. Boston: Shambala, 1973. In the Valley of Decision Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie Beha, O.S.C., continues to reside in the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. In the early days of my religious life, one Sunday a month was set aside as a day of recollection, a retreat day. Out of earshot of the novice di-rector, we called it "dead Sunday," because it featured extra time for a meditation on death. Even though we resisted some of the more mor-bid descriptions following that meditation's first prelude, "Place your-self on your deathbed," the practice did ensure that we were regularly confronted with the realization of personal mortality. Today there are plenty of other reminders: tragedy that shouts in the headlines and is pictured in all its starkness on television or in the news magazines, the alarming statistics of the rising number of adolescent sui-cides, the toll of AIDS, the senseless slaughter of innocent victims in bombing raids, and the torture of random hostages. To this litany we add our more personalized grief over the death of family and friends. We know dying in all of its unexpectedness, its violence, its tragedy, our grief compounded the closer we are to the individuals who have died. And in our world of instant communication death is never very far away. What we are less familiar with is the dying of our institutions, our communities. Not that this is a new phenomenon either. It is as much a fact of life as the death of individuals but less perceptible except with the long look of history. By the time that history notices, however, those with most reason to mourn have already passed th.rough death them-selves. Yet institutional dying is an ever present reality. On the global level we are threatened by almost certain extinction if nation against nation 201 202 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 ever turns to nuclear war. We face the unknown consequences of our wan-ton destruction of rain forests centuries in the growing. We worry about environmental pollution passing on to the next generation, an earth poi-soned beyond, control. We experience that our technology so outstrips our wisdom that we may be as likely to kill as to cure. On the local level, that of the communities where we live, we con-front death every time a neighborhood is ripped up to make way for prog-ress or a business closes because of obsolescence. Families come to the end of the generations, as they have always done, but now the very in-stitution of the family itself seems doomed to extinction. Divorce, child-less marriages, abortion, weaken it from within, while drugs and the value-system of a consumer society attack it from without. Churches are empty so parishes close, following the demise of the parochial school. Religious communities face not only financial crises of major proportions but also the slow starvation of fewer and fewer vocations. Already some congregations are opting for survival through merger; others have been "suppressed," as the death process is termed, grimly enough, in Church law. Within the foreshortened history of our individual lives, we can no longer deny the mortality of our institutions; we are being invited to en-ter consciously into what is happening all around us. We become aware that some communities simply expire, brought down by their own dis-eased condition or their inability to receive from, or give life to, the world around them. They starve to death. Others die honorably and natu-rally of old age. Some fade away forced by circumstances to accept their growing irrelevance; others are felled by revolution while still in their prime. The question is not "Do institutions die?" but "How do they? And how do we respond to their dying?" Are we aware or do we prefer the apparent safety of denial? When denial is no longer possible, what do we do then? Rage against the inevitable? Give up? Bargain for more time? Or do we face institutional death with courage, living the present to the full, admitting that life's precariousness is part of its preciousness? The choice of response is ours, not only as individuals, but as commu-nities. Instant communication provides information; it does not ensure adequate response nor delay death's inevitability. Institutions must die, but how they die is a matter of decision. Ours! Theological Reflections for a Dying Community On our way north we had stopped overnight, availing ourselves of the gracious hospitality that had suggested, "Come anytime." The build- In the Valley of Decision / 203 ing was 1950-modern, far too large for the eight or so sisters who pres-ently occupied it. The refectory seemed cavernous; it could easily have seated forty. Mercifully the community room was small and cozy, the superior.exp!aining that it had once been the priest's dining room. She also mentioned that the third floor was closed off to save heat, and it was obvious that the second floor was sparsely populated. The situation was depressingly familiar. What was remarkable was the sense of joy that made supper a re-freshment for body and spirit. The sisters welcoming us ranged in age from the superior in her late 40s, who had introduced herself as "the only young sister here," to an octogenarian busily can'ying in dishes from the kitchen. I was seated next to a sister in a wheel chair who had been brought in by another sister who seemed to be using the wheel chair as a substitute walker. Both smiled a sincere welcome, "We are so glad to have you with us." Others gathered and I guessed the average age somewhere in the 70s. The conversation soon revealed that most were active in one way or another. Some spoke of bringing Communion to the sick; others of tutoring kids from the nearby elementary school. One 85- year-old had tales to tell of the black children she helped in a Head Start program; her love for the children was obvious. Another drew her chair closer to mine, saying that she did not hear well anymore and did not want to miss a word; her attentiveness the rest 6f the meal made us all more articulate. Table conversation included convent trivia but it did not stay there. The sisters read widely and well. They ~ere critical of what the~ had heard on TV, exchanged evaluations of VCR programs. And peppered me with good questions in a way that told me why they were so well in-formed about what was happening in the contemporary Church. When they welcomed visitors, these sisters welcomed the wider world. Towards the end of the meal, I deliberately intoned the familiar list of religious-life woes: few recruits, shrinking apostolates, the "greying" of the congregation. The facts were acknowledged. The sisters' response was obviously the fruit of many shared reflections. They were happy with the community they had chosen and the life they shared; now they would see each other through to the end. God was with .them, still at work in his world. As one said to me with a smile that I will never for-get, "Our community may be dying but God is making something new. ' ' As I threaded my way back to the freeway next morning, I found my-self reflecting on what I had heard and seen. There was no denial of 91~4 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 death. The shrinking number of sisters and their physical limitations were accepted facts of life; they were not neurotic preoccupations. The sisters were too alive for that. Their acceptance was not tainted with hopeless-ness and its equivalent suicide. They were not actualizing their worst fears by giving in to bitterness or despair. Today their community is alive; some tomorrow it might not be. Progression toward an end time is inevitable, whether it is their owndeath, that of the their beloved con-gregation, or the final days of the world. "And after that the judg-ment"., a judgment that is in the making in their response now. Im-plicit in the faith of these few old sisters was a whole theology of the death and dying of institutions. Awareness precedes acceptance. So faith-response to death and dy-ing begins by breaking through denial. Like the middle-aged woman look-ing in the mirror and acknowledging that the first wrinkles are more than shadows caused by poor lighting, all need to admit "We are moving to-ward death." This world is passing away and the institutions that pres-ently shape it will not always do so. Even now all are dying. At times this process accelerates and we experience the diminish-ment. The grace of such periods is that of bringing us into contact with a truth we too easily ignore; its occasion of sin is confusion in our re-sponse. There are seasons when death's approach must be resisted strongly; in fact, this is always our first response. "Choose life." But there comes a time when resistance is useless; surrender is called for. The difference between may be difficult to recognize but it is critically im-portant. Faith's response balances "choose life" with "accept death." For the believer, for the community of believers, the ultimate answer is not biological, nor sociological, but Christological. "Am I alive in Christ? Is my dying a going to the Father in and with Christ Jesus?" If so, my death is a coming alive. "Or am I mortally, morally, and spiritually sick unto eternal death?" Then my living and my dying are both lost forever. Responding to this question that all death and dying puts before us forces freedom's choice. Our answer rises out of life; it is the last sylla-ble in the sentence we have been phrasing in all the pronouncements of life, all individual or institutional decision-making. Only in death will we become finally free to speak the word that is Self. Only in the act of dying will we, individuals and communities, be capable of that con-summation of freedom which is total, absolute, commitment. In dying, the mystery of living stands revealed; dying-rising are one whole mystery, one continuous process, one word, even though our ex- In the Valley of Decision / 205 perience, as well as our orthography, spells it with a hyphen. Dying is a breakthrough into life; at least, it can be. That is freedom's choice; we determine the meaning. Just as Jesus did. Dying: Christological Implications. How did Jesus die? The answer has been repeated so often that the cross has lost its power to say anything; it is decoration more than real-ity. Yet redemption, becoming free, growing into holiness, are only pos-sible when we as individuals, as communities, enter into the passion and death of Jesus. So again, how did Jesus die? As we do, moving through the process of realizing it, being angered by it, bargaining with it, feeling blackness of depression, and, finally, coming to an acceptance that transforms death into fuller life. Particularly in the gospel of Luke, we see the whole life of Jesus as a moving toward his death. We read, "He set his face toward Jerusa-lem" (Lk 9:51). This was where he was going, the call of his Father's .love, the motivation for his every redemptive act. Death and dying were important concerns he spoke about to those who were closest to him. Not that they understood or appreciated such reminders of mortality. They denied the facts, even protested. They were for kingdom building here, now, in their world. And Jesus rebuked them sharply, "Get behind me, satan" (Mk 8:33). Jesus acknowledged death's inevitability; he knew that his way of liv-ing would lead to the cross. What he chose was life, a life that would climax in death. He freely accepted the fatal consequences of choosing to live, to teach, to act as he did. Aware and able to choose, in the free-dom that rose from who he was before the Father, he embraced the dy-ing that went with the living. Knowing and accepting did not rule out protest. Jesus' response to the pharisees who were seeking to put him to death (Jn 8:40) was clear and unequivocal. They were doing the work of the devil, whose sons they were! Even at the end, Jesus protested the injustice of his being con-demned to death. He refused to cooperate with Herod's court of inquiry, remaining silent when lifesaving prudence might have dictated at least a minimum of cooperation. Before Pilate, his protest became vocal. "Do you ask this of your own accord. ? . My kingdom is not of this world" (Jn 18:35). Previous to this, the power of his self-assertion directed against the soldiers sent to arrest him had set them back on their heels. Jesus was angry; he did not deserve death. "If I have done good why do you seek 206 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 to kill me?" Why die? Why me? That is the protest life addresses to death. Ultimately it becomes a question addressed to the Lord of life. Why suffering? Why dying? The answer does not come easily. The healthier the person, the more wrench-ing the acceptance. Jesus sweat blood before his will could speak out its central commitment, "Not my will but yours be done" (Mk 14:37). The struggle, the bargaining, were finished. The passion continued. The dying of Jesus moved toward completion, each stage bringing him down, deeper into "the pit of death." Betrayal, abandonment, physi-cal and emotional abuse would take their terrible toll. Fastened to the cross Jesus would drink death's cup to the bitter dregs. He would express heartbreak in a cry of desolation, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mk 15:34). "He who did not know sin had been made sin" (2 Co 5:21) for our sake, and Jesus felt the oppression of slavery and alienation. He accepted, "It is accomplished" (Jn 19:30). His last word summed up his life's orientation. He would die as he had lived into the hands of his Father, his trust redeeming the horror of death by cruci-fixion, transforming passion's suffering into self-offering. The acceptance of Jesus' surrender opened out into the new life of resurrection. What he gave up, he received back; rather, his resurrection was a "making new." Through dying, he went beyond death. This is now clear to us with the evidence of something accomplished. But for Jesus, as for us, surrender into death was an act of faith, an experience of letting go with only trust to justify the risk. Death must come first, before new life is possible. Jesus had to lose his life. So must we. Mortality Denied The passion and death of Jesus is invitation, something we can freely enter into or can refuse and resist. Whatever our choice, the process ton-tinues but its effectiveness depends radically on our response to this fact of life, our mortality as individuals and as communities. We can opt to live through our dying or we can choose to deny death and so die to life. Denial is the first of our resistances. A community, for example, can refuse to face what is happening, as the number of new members de-creases and average age rises. Data are challenged; the credentials of the statistician questioned. Others are blamed for the crisis; "they" are no longer generous, interested, concerned. These are obvious forms of de-nial and they do nothing to stop the progress of decline. Less obvious is the denial that refuses to face, not only the symp-toms, but the cause of the illness as well, its seriousness, the rate of pro-gression, its effect on others. Why is community dying? Is it diseased, In the Valley of Decision / 207 brought down by "infection" from surrounding culture or by a lifestyle that is no longer functional? Or is it simply succumbing to old age, the inevitable decline that is the underside of history's progress? Is this pro-cess reversible, something that a group needs to pass through and then go on with life as before? Or does it require a change of direction, a new and different way of living? Is this illness terminal? If so, how much time is left? How rapid the progression of present rates of decline? Howare others affected by our dying as community? Are they suffering too, and what can be done to alleviate their pain? The questions are stark; no one asks them lightly. Unwillingness to even look at them is denial made possible through the use of those de-fense mechanisms with which we are all too familiar. We rationalize, pre-senting specious reasons to explain present experience: we are not dy-ing, just "indisposed." The whole problem is temporary; things will turn around soon. Besides we are not to blame. The reverse side of this stance.is: some-body must be. We blame other people, including God! Our dying is the will of God and so must be accepted. Perhaps. "God willing" may ex-press surrender but it may also attribute to God something that we have not yet faced. The very rightness of our reasoning is all the more dan-gerous because it cloaks denial with religious ritual, an especially safe form of repression. Paradoxically, community may also deny responsibility by giving too much credence to those who are predicting its demise; it lacks the inner freedom to reply, "The reports of our death are greatly exagger-ated!" While the prophets of doom may be correct, they may also be mis-taken. The accuracy of their prophecies will only be revealed when the future becomes present. All we know now is that attitude makes a dif-ference. While refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation will not cure it, giving up hope will surely condemn us to death. Another inappropriate response attempts to ignore the whole ques-tion and continues, doggedly, to do what "we have always done." We may call this fidelity but it is not. Fidelity is creative response incorpo-rating past into present and moving on into the new of the future. Denial condemns to fruitless repetition that goes nowhere. Preoccupation with safety and security needs is a rather accurate index of a group's mori-bund condition. Overreliance on what has worked in the past may simu-late faith, but it really is presumption. "God will take care of us" may be just another attempt to manipulate God into doing what we neglect to do for ourselves. 2011 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 Denial is failed responsibility; it violates the delicate line of balance between doing all that we can but not more than we ought. So commu-nity that is experiencing some of the symptoms of approaching death errs either by ignoring the situation or by exaggerating solutions. It can, for example, refuse assistance, since accepting help involves admitting a need for it. It can also erupt in a flurry of poorly planned activity, lis-tening to every guru who promises gilt-edged salvation. Fund-raisers can be a preferred way for Americans to refuse responsibility while appear-ing to assume it. Community Anger The hidden blessing of denial is its inevitable failure. When facts can no longer be avoided, they must be faced. Anger follows. Unfortunately, it too can be denied, hidden, buried under heaps of inappropriate behav-ior, deflected in projections; or it can rage out of control, leaving devas-tation in its wake. Anger denied is dangerous; anger accepted and appropriately ex-pressed is powerful energy for good. It can move a community deeper into the paschal mystery; it can lead to life. The question is how? The first answer: by acknowledging what is happening. Are we as commu-nity angry? What are we angry about? Community anger, like that of individuals, is often misplaced. It looks for some convenient target; so we kick the dog because we cannot face its owner. Seeking some scapegoat we may even turn against our own. If our predecessors had only been wiser. If present membership were less selfish, recruitment more effective, formation better planned. What may have been only contributing factors are made to bear the whole weight of adequate causes. The same projection of anger can be vented on persons and groups outside community. The more helpless the victim, the safer the outrage. An angry community becomes increasingly critical. Its spirit grows sour; its activity strained and harsh. It asks too much of members and of others. Aggressivity swallows up joy, dissolves compassion. Dying is always pain-filled, difficult. Anger is a "messy" emotion. Commu-nity at this stage will be broken wide open, all its wounds and weak-nesses revealed. Members will leave, pursued by the fury of those who remain and feel abandoned. Those who stay may wallow in unattractive self-pity, becoming entrenched in the very symptoms of the dying. Underneath this storm of pain, community is most of all angry at it-self. We cannot live "on our own"; mortality strikes a vital blow at the myth of .self-sufficiency. The length of our days is not something we con- In the Valley of Decision / 209 trol. Our raging against this will not change its truth. Acceptance is the only way through and out. Grief Work But first community needs to mourn. We are losing our life. We may not know yet whether what we are facing is the final test of death and burial or only the call to pass through another cycle of dying. In either case we must enter into the pain. Grievir~g community needs both time and distance. Some members can let go of the.past more quickly than others, the rate being determined by such variables as temperament and degree of attachment. Mourning demands patience; it is not just linear but cyclic. Going through requires repetition, reexperiencing and reexpressing the grief. Things will not be the same . . . ever., this is an ending. Community needs to provide itself with space and time for the griev-ing. When members leave, for example, those who are left behind may have as much adjusting to do as those who face the transition into new beginnings. The anger of the community may even be increased by the fact---characteristic of all our dying--that it has been confronted with a decision not of its own choosing. Healthy grieving not only takes time; it has its own timing. How long it lasts and how often the cycle of anger., depression., anger. must be repeated cannot be determined from outside community. But, finally, a group, as well as the individuals who compose it, need to make a decision to move on. We will never be the same. The past cannot be reconstructed; nor those who have been part of us, returned. As much as we might like to remember past glory-days, they no longer offer the satisfaction of present reality. Now we have to live., or not live. in the present. Unhealthy grieving fails this reality test. It can be so prolonged that all one's life energy goes into it; dying is all that remains of life. That is not grief but defeat. Even in the pain the option remains to "choose life." So a community that is dying can continue to model attitudes of openness and concern for others. It can choose to serve as long and as much as it is able. In doing so it affirms the ultimate value of life even in the midst of death. Community can avoid the withdrawal, the turning in on self, that threatens to allow dying to become a form of being buried alive. De-pression risks just such introversion. Granted that the temptation to al-low pain to become preoccupation can be great, it is also self-defeating. It only intensifies and prolongs the suffering. Depression that is indulged 910 / Review for Religious, March-April 1991 in grows bitter and that is the worst kind of death; in the end, the natural aloneness of dying becomes enforced isolation. To avoid this, outside support is almost necessary to assist groups working through depression. Their greater objectivity enables com-munity not to get stuck in the process. Perhaps all that others do is to name what is going on and this already frees energies. While ac-knowledgment is one service others render, appreciation is still more thera-peutic. ApFreciation of what has been, yes, but also gratitude for the im-mediate gift that the dying community continues to offer, its participa-tion in the paschal mystery. Acceptance of Death Acceptance should not image supine submission to what can no longer be avoided. It is an attitude of strength that kno

Issue 44.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1985. ; REvtEw Fo~ R ELIGIOUs(ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial uffices are located .at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR R ELIGIOLIS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by R EV~EW FOR R ELIGtOUS, Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write REvl[w RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel E X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1985 Volume 44 Number 4 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to RI:vIEW ~OX RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVlEW FOR R EL~amUS; Room 428; 3601 LindeH Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. ~Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rdo; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. Answering the Call of Christ M. Ingeborg Rohner, 0 S. E This article is based on a,talk given by Mother Ingeborg at the national meeting of the Institute on Religious Life which was held, in Washington D.C. in June of this year. Mother lngeborg is sgrving as provincial of her community,,and resides at St. Francis Convent; 2120 'Central Avenue; Alton, IL 62002. All of us here have heard a great deal in recent years about vocations to the religious life. So very much of what we have been hearing goes under the general heading of "Vocation Crisis~---why the crisis arose, and what we. should be doing about I do not intend here to propose'new analyses to explain, or remedies to resolve this crisis. Rather I would hope,to be able to share simply with you a summation of what we in our community have been doing to foster vocations, and what we have learned from the effort. My primary credential for addressing this subject has been my fourteen years of experience (1970- 1984) as director of novices for my community, du.ring which time I have also been responsible for vocation recruitment. Before sharing these experiences with you, I would like to attempt to give some formulation to the fundamental and evolving understanding of the nature of vocation that I have brought tothis twofold task given to me by my community. I am made the,bolder in this attempt because I find myself in such agreement with the statements of our Holy Father in his apostolic exhortation Redemptionis Donum: "The call to the way of the evangelical counsels springs from the interior encounter with the love of Christ, which is,a°redeeming love. christ calls precisely through this love of his" (n. 3). The Holy Father cites the well-known passage from Mark (10:21), 481 4112 / Review for Religious, 'July-August~ 1985 applying it specifically to the matter of vocation: "And Jesus, looking upon [the young man], loved him." This look--a specifically personal look takes on a spousal character, the Holy Fath, et notes, involving as it does a choice made on the basis of an exclusive love-relationship. The gospel narrative is the basis of my confidence that there will always be vocations to that explicit form of evangelical radicalism which we call religious life. I am confident of this simply and in the final analysis because we have been created for God--and thus created for love. Every vocation has its origin when Love itself--our loving God--looks into the eyes,into the hearts, of those who truly seek h'im. Whenever this happens, the fire of a radical love-response will be enkindied. St. Francis looked once into the ~yes of the Crucified One and under-stood this well. From that moment of encounter, he would cry: "Love is not loved!7 ¯ What .did Francis ,see? He saw what each person who is truly called by Christ sees in some fashion: Infinite. Love reaches out to his creature, and asks for a response of love. And that lo~k, and the response it invokes, in briefest terms, constitutes the "vocation-story" of each and every person . who has ever been called by Christ. Since God is Love, I am called to respond to his love. Pontius Pilate once asked: "What is truth?" Perhaps the question for our time ~ought to be: "What is lo.ve?"--because our modern perceptions of the meaning of love seem so distorted. Especially for us religious is ,thi's question of supreme importance because not only does one's initial call/response, but also to a considerable extent does one's perseverance depend on how one understands the meaning of love. The Meaning of Love ¯ St. Thomas Aquinas has defined love as "velle alicui bonum"---to will (effectively) for another~what is good. In its richest understanding, this definition would seem to include within its comprehension., all efforts, to bring another person alive in some fashion; to make another person full and i'ich; to enable another person to realize the full flowering of his or her potential. . In his.Spiritual,Exercises, St.!gnatius of Loyola noted that authentic love becomes manifest~more in deeds than inwords, that it consists in the exchange of complete mutuality between lovers, insofar as this is possible. Quite evidently what is intended in these simple phrases is a real sharing, not ,merely a: verbal exchangi~-of facile promises. What is intended is a sharing of all that I have and, much more difficult and frightening--and fulfilling--of.~all that I am. Answering the Call of Christ / 483 This is the form of love that is also at the base of that special covenant relationship which we call spousal. In our humhn experience this form of covenant bonding may, perhaps', begin with a kind of fascination, an experience which is not deliberately chosen, but which "happens" to indi-viduals. Yet, when it is authentically human, it ends with a commitment, it ends with a :decision, it ends with a definitive'choice, a choice that-is characterized by the word unconditional, a~ choice which includes as its further limit,forever. " " This is the kind of love that is revealed in the life and being and teaching of Christ. When the Holy Father talks about the love that the religious somehow experiences, to which the religious is called to make a responsei .it is this kind oflove to which he is pointing. It is the love of choice, of commitment, it involves the definitive handing over of oneself. It. is a love, therefore, that ischaracterized by fidelity in the commitment that has been undertaken. ~. The Mystery of V9caf!on ~, A vocation, the call or summons from Christ that isaddressed:to an. individual, involves.a mystery. However it happens, however the.process i~ launched, to whatever moment we point,as marking its "beginning," the more fundamental question ofeach~vocation story yet remains: Whatis it in, me, ,in my personal.history, that has already "set me up" so that 1 become responsive to that particular stimulus, and choose to answer in this particular way? How do I come to perceive that I am called, that I am called to this particular community? ~ ~ ~ " " What.is' it, this mysterious .something, that can bring (o the convent door and entrance into religious life, a person ~who oftentimes, is barely Christian, a person who knows.the proper words, perhaps, but has not yet really heard them, and is not reallylquite sure what they mean--words fis fundamental as: God,-Trinity, Christ, sacraments, Church. Yet. there clear!y is something.thatdraws this particular person to a ;way of life that, she does not know, that she does not understand,, but upon which she is some.how simply willing to embark. How can the response of such a person be a response of love, the unique response to a unique call that is centered upon the ~rson of Christ who is to become her All, when she does not even know, really, who Christ is?0 ' .~. I have witnessed this process, too often to be able to deny it. God, in his goodness, mysteriously touches the soul of such a persrn in a way ihat makes it possible for her to hear him say to tier:~ "You, come and follow me!'?.She, in turn; effectively says: "Who are you?'l don't even know you." 484 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 And he says, in effect: "Come andsee! In time you will know! For now, just come and follow me." And, so very often, this is what she does. And, so very often, this is what actually happens. When the person is responsive, it does happen that, out of such seeming nothingness there can blossom, a genuine vocation. Out of seemingly nothing a :relationship does grow and develop between her person and the person of Christ. A soul content with its God even thus vaguely understood, a soul that is beginning to consider everything else as of little value,is a soul that is opening unto God and to the movements of God within it. And God can and does act on that soul. .In each individual, then, what is of crucial importance to the develop-ment of a vocation are those specific components of .personality which make us to be the individuals that we are, those peculiar sensitivities which make us to bealert and attentive so as to hear God's call in the first place, and tO respond to its gradual unfolding within our life-story. Every vocation is always utterly unique, even as is the person to whom it is addressed. Christ deals with each soul in a vefy~concrete way. The transcript of his dealings with each soul constitutes that person's life-history. It is in the working out Of this life-story 'that different individuals .arrive through so many different paths at the convent door.' It really does not make much difference, .then, what actually brings a person to the convent door. All kinds of influences and incentives can be found to be operative, even today, in bringing this to pass: adolescent hero-worship; distinctiveness of dress or function, a specific career choice, a generous, but barely differentiated impulse to serve. All of these have been operative in the different vocation stories. It really doesn't matter, very much what it is that actually brings a person, to the door. What is of crucial importance for the development of authentic human life within the convent is why the person remains, even though the final coming to terms with this may involve a process of growth that can even require years for its full development. It is the openness to the possibility of such growth that is absolutely required if this life-choice is not to be frustrated. Vocation as aProcess . , Experience has ~convinced me that typically by the time of vows the novice really is in a position to commit herself--if only after a fashion but still effectively--to the way of life that she has chosen for herself. I am not at all sure, though; that every novice, even by the time of vows,-has yet~truly found her vocation, her call, the concrete determinants that will specify her way of responding. The newly professed are often still very far from know- Answering the Call of Christ ing how to, or even being willing to, let God be God in their lives. Even as their director, then, I don't always fully understand how a vocation develops within each individual. I do know we formation people do not cause any vocation to grow. Our office is' to discern, to invite, to clarify matters with the individual. Our task is to maintain an atmosphere that is nurturing, one in which this mystery that is.a vocation can develop. But beyond these forms of enablement we are only bystanders and observers of the developing relationship that takes place between the individuaiand her God. Vocation, then, is a process. It is not an instant product. It is a Very ,gradual process, one that has a beginning and a middle, but there is no identifiable end-point to its development in this world. I don't know how, or even that the process is going on day after day--even in my own soul--except by looking back, by recognizing in retrospect how he has brought me, in ways that I don't often understand, to ~xperience him in ways that I could not predict; and he has done this not according to any plan of mine, but according to his own free determinations. Christ does not normally call saints tO religious life. Normally he calls d~velol6ing, limited human persons who are willing, even if inconsistently so, to become saints. He calls them to enter upon a lifelong enterprise with him. ~And herein, it seems tome, lie the essence and the theology of religious vocation. The Vocation "to Be" "In the 50s, 60s and 70s, and even into the 80s, we religious had been putting a great deal of emphasis in our vocational literature on the works that we do. We used to advertise constantly the service that our congrega-tions were doing "for Christ": teaching, nursing, social work, and so forth. And we invited young people to join us in those enterprises, But, especially today, sooner or later there must arise the question: "But why be a religious? I can do all these works 'for Christ' as a lay person." And that, of course, is quite true! This is the reason why 1 personally atiach such great importance to a theme that our Holy Father, John Paul II, has been trying so very hard, and in such a variety of ways to emphasize, as he also does in Redemptionis Donum: What religious are is of far greater.importance than what religious do. Our vocation is a call to be, more than it is a call to do. "Doing," .of course, is going to follow out of that call, out of that "being~" But the call to religious life is a call to be! This is a theme of such great importance, one which we in formation work must find ways of communicating convincingly to our young people. 4116 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 This is the understanding of vocation that' has influenced so strongly what we in our community and province have been doing in our vocational ministry. But enough o.f theory! Let us pass, now, to facts regarding our com-munity and its experience of the past fourteen years of exercising this ministry. A Summary of Our Congregation Worldwide, the total number of sisters in our congregation is 1,917. Our motherhouse is in Germany; we also have provinces in-Holland, Japan, Indonesia, Africa, and America (including a rapidly developing mission in Brazil). In descending order, our largest novitiates are located in Germany, USA, Brazil, and Indonesia. The combined American province includes all of the United States, as well as Brazil. ~The mission in Brazil, now twelve years old, includes seven stations and hasa rapidly growing novitiate and postulancy. The total ,population of,our, combined province is 134 sisters, with an ave.rage age of 28. For the United States proper these figures are 10! sisters, whose aver~age age is 31 years. It is about this segment of our province that I propose now to comment. In my tenure as director of novices (1970-84), 101 you.ng women entered our 6ommunity. Fifty-five of this number remain in the community while, all told, forty-six have left. Of those fifty-five sisters, sixteen are in first formation, twenty-four are. junior-professed, and fifteen are sisters with final vows. Statistics on ThoJe Who Have Left the Community : 26 individuals left as postulants: 18 chose to leave 8 were asked ! 1 sisters left as noyices: 6 chose to leave 5 were asked 8 sisters left as juniors: 7, chose to leave, I was asked 1 finally professed sister chose to leave. Hopefully the fundamental motivation of the fifty-five sisters wh'o remain in our community is clear: these are women who want to continue on the way they have chosen, the way of learning how to return love for Love, life for Life, and, with his grace, they will persevere in this course that they' have Chosen. ' Reasons for Departure Regarding those who have left our community, the discoverable reasons for., their departure are manifold. Almost a fifth of these women were found to be afflicted ,with some incapacitating mental illness. Sometimes it is the pressure of convent living which brings such to the surface. Answering the Call of Christ / 487 Doubtless~in. some instances the potential for this factor should hax?e been discovered prior to admission--and we are getting better at this important task. On the other hand, our candidates come from all over (he continent, and in the practical order it is difficult to have sufficient time with them for the successful identification of every latent illness. ~ ' In "a few instances, those who departed from our community finally yielded tO' faniily pressure. It takes ~ourage and at times a great deal:o~" stamina to'live out the Gospel imperatives which demand that one' lbave family and all things else in order to be a disciple of Christ. "Whoever puts tiis hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reigfi of Grd" (Lk 9:62). In these instances, apparently, the faith of the individual was hot strong enough to withstand the pressure generated by the drain of the contrary feelings experienced in the face of familial displeasure. In yet other instances, ianguage barriers and transcultural trauma affected the outcome of admission. Perhaps in these instances I was naiv~ in not assigning greater weight to the difficulty that such factors would briiag to the formation experience when I accepted into the novitiate per-sons too recently arrived in this country, or too recently con{,erted to the Church. Chastity, too, is a source of a variety of problems, the basic remedy of which remains the same. St. John, the virgin apostle resting on tl~e bosom of Christ, remains the symbol of th~ love-relationship which must develop ¯ between the consecrated celibate and God. Its absolute necessity li~s been evidenced again and again in my experience. What is at issue here is not the maintenance of some form of sterile virginity,_ but the hurturing of a "garde~a well protected," of a "secret place" reservbd for the One Bridegroom to whom th~ individual has pledged herself, whom she has chogen for herself. There is room as well of course! for the 1rye-experience of a Mary Magdalene, who knew ho~, ~o love totally because she knew how to love ardently. Bfit no~mally virginity tl~rown carelessly away, or purity held. cheaply does not provide fertile soil for the growth of true love. So it was that about a fifth of thosewho departed from our community had been 'playing (I chose the term' deliberately) with sex, 6yen while still among us, apparently~ scar~:ely realizing the gravity of their actions against their own lives and hopes, as well as against God, the community, and the larger society. Lacking in genuin~ interior discipline, they often seemed weakened in spirit to the point of no longer even recognizing or desiring their ~:rnsecrated chastity as a positive value. ~ Theexperience of being sex.ually abused in childhood was fi fact~,r in a few instances of those Whose leaving was partly motivated by the demands of "41~11 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 chastity. I know that often in such Eases something effective can be done-- because I have seen it happen. In these instances, however, we were-not able to find that "something." In regard to the need for friendship in religious life and our natural hunger for human love, a spiritualdirector once said: "Don't give yourself to love unless you have given up love." In some cases this principle appar-ently was not grasped, or, if grasped,' was not accepted. There was one clear instance of lesbianism. But evidence of immaturity and an excessive sensu-ality in the quest for intimacy seemed to be operative in other cases. The "Third Way" is no longer considered "in." But there has lingered a misun-derstood desire for friendship leading to relationships which prove to be actually counter-productive, stifling genuine interest in growing or even maintaining a spiritual life. Eventually some individuals were asked to leaye. ¯ Perseverance Reflecting upon the experience we have had with all those who have left our community, I have come to the conviction that if "vocation" is a mystery, perseverance in one's vocation is no less so. I have wondered how applicable, in certain of these instances, might be the suggestion contained in Bonhoeffer's phrase: some were "hoping to live by 'cheap grace.'" St. Paul wrote: "You have been purchased, and at a price!"(l Co 6:20). It is the cross of Christ that is the purchase price of our redemption. There isjusi no cheap or easy way to give my life back to him in the daily lived response of my love. ~ A very evident problem of our time is that of perseverance in one's commitment. The young people Who join us come from.a society that is geared to the expectation of instant results. Their expe, ctation is real, even if its fulfillment is beyond the realm of the possible. There is no such thing in real life corresponding to what is longed for in our "instant society,." bu~t they have been taught that the dream is real, and they have. bought into the dream. And the dream undermines their seriousness of purpose and their constanc~ in commitment. The young people who come to us have spent a tremendous proportion of their lives before a TV screen. Formation persons .should look at TV from time to time specifically to remind themselves of the surrounding culture out of which their young charges have come. They might look specifically to see what has been so formative in the lives of today's young people. Perhaps as formative as the shows and movies of TV is the constant repetition of the message of easy success and instant gratification that is communicated in the flow of advertising. All commercials, it seen/s, prom- Answering the Call of Christ ise in one fashion or other instant satisfaction, immediate relief from pain, the effective remedy to every discomfort, success in business, wealth beyond measure, the guarantee of the deepest and most enduring of interpersonal relationships--parenting as well as r.omantic--all of which attractive goals are to be won by th~ use of mere products. The key to Prince Charming's Success lies in a tube of toothpaste; a lozenge guarantees success in meeting the girl of one's dreams--and effort-lessly living happily ever after! Oh, no one consciously, knowingly assumes such patently absurd attitudes. But attitudinal formation is seldom conscious and knowing. And so they come to us, the young, with their expectation of "instant holiness" as well! They really do anticipate immediate and unending union with God, constant consolation in prayer, gratification in work, an imme-diate perception of the worthwhileness of whatever they are doing. They really do look forward to finding heaven on earth in the convent. They really do anticipate living out their days 'with lovable and loving compan-ions, within the walls of perfect, ready-made Eommunities. And the pain of disillusionment is heavy indeed. Our young people today need a great deal more attention and care, counseling and encouragement, and affirmation ~than did our generations of a simpler age. In my own novitiate, there was one director for l I0 novices. Today we offer the young much, much more help--both from within the community, through the greater number of persons assigned to the work of formation, ahd through reliance on a variety of outside resour-ces as well. Yet there is no sure or magic remedy for solving all problems. There is no structure, no system that can guarantee perseverance, l can no mo~e guarantee my fidelity to my vocation than I can guarantee my salvation. The strength that I need can only be found in him who~called me, and in ¯ his acceptance of my self:gift. Left to myself, then, 1 could not guarantee even today. But relying on him, I have confidence that, even if I should fail today, he, the Faithful One of Israel, will raise me up again; he will make up for my infidelity. I know this to be true because I have experienced it to be so in my own life, and I have witnessed it to be so in ~the lives of so many others. I have experienced and I have seen that he uses our weaknesses, even as he uses our strengths, in order to fastiion the persons he loves and calls into being. Apart from him, because of my own experience of being human, I know I could not promise him "forever." With him, I could hope to do so because he accepts my promise, and in accepting my promise he pledges himself to be my enablement. 490 / Review for Religious, July, August, 1985 Another source of unrest, a negative influence on t.he possibility of perseverance for the young today, is the emphasi.s that our culture places on feelings. Faith is not. a matter of feelings, but of trust and decision. Young people, however, tend to base their decisions largely on fedings. If I feel good, what I am about is all right. If I feel bad, then I made a wrong decision, and should simply change my situation. 'This is also perhaps the greatest source of failed commitment in our society today--witness our soaring divorce rate. A vocation is the source of a developing relationship .between persons. It is a personal encounter, one on one, and involves the personal experience of the redeemi ~ng love,invitation of Christ and the personal response made by the individual, an integral person, made up of a very concrete body and a very part~c~ular soul. Christ does not extend his invitation to an. abstrac-tion, nor is a stereotype capable of making a personal response. A vocation, then, is always deeply involved with concrete, historical specificity--which means that it has to do with an individual ~with a very particular history, wiao is Composed of very specific wrinkles and warts, Stains and blemishes, the sum of all his or her shortcomings as well as of his or her assets, which, all combined, constitute the existential reality, that is the object of the choice Christ made when he said to the individual: "Come!" .~ I don't know for certain that all the forty-six young women who left our community during those fourteen years did not have a call from God to the religious life. I don't know--whether through their fault or mine--a real vocation was lost in one or other instance. On the other hand, there is also the Gospel story to consider of the man from Gerasa out of whom Christ drove unclean spirits. This man, too, wanted to follow Christ, but he was told: "Go home to your family, and make it clear to them how much the Lord in his mercy has done for you." (Mk 5:19). Whatever the result of such a reflection, ,every departure from the convent works some hardship on the community as well.as on the individual. There is always some degree of tension and an experience of sorrow sur-rounding every departure. ~ And so by tile end of my tenure in office, I became much more careful in screening candidates, both for their sake and for ours. Even so, when novices or postulants leave I am not overly concerned. Their coming, after all, was for the ~ke of a testing. But St.~ Paul says: ":God's gift and his call are irrevocable!" And so it would seem that, once a call has been confirmed by the acceptance of her vows in the .Ch, urch, the individual making profession should be able to persevere in her commitment ~with the help of God's grace. Every departure of a professed sister leaves me uneasy, questioning, most especially if the sister be finally professed. I Answering the Call of Chris~ / 491 do grieve over each such departure--~ven as, at times, 1 can recognize its inevitability. Who Is Accepted? Understanding vocation in the way I have outlined obviously is going to have ramifications on our attitudes and on procedures we devise for receiving young women into our community. On principle, any girl who applies will be,given serious consideration. This principle is based, not on what some might call the "warm body syndrome," but on the conviction that God is generous with his grace, and that we in our turn must be eager to identify, nurture and celebrate the gift of this grace--which is a ,voca-tion- whenever and wherever we find it. Our openness to the discovery of vocations must be a very active openness. ~ 'Thus it :is that we have accepted girls of vastly varied backgrounds and conditions into our community. We have accepted graduates fight out of high school, provided that they have reached their eighteenth .birthday. We have accepted ~some young women with incomplete college experience, as we have accepted others with undergraduate and graduate degrees. In fact, we have accepted two women who came to us with Ph.D.'s. And we have also accepted candidates coming to us from a variety of other backgrounds in the kind and length of the work experience they bring. For myself, and experience has convinced me of this, I belie~,e that criteria,based on age and education or the length of work experience play but relatively little part in helping us to discern a ,readiness on the part of a candidate to answer Christ's call to religious life. The ideal candidate pos, sesses, obviously, a readiness and a capacity to love--and to give her life entirely to Christ, Such a person will always have some intuitive perception that this includes embracing his cross as well; involving the need for self-denial. The presence of such traits in some degree, surely, is what identifies who is clearly ready to enter into religious life. But sufficient for entrance also, other things being equal, can be simply a willingness to be generous. The desi~:e or need to be a caring person can be enough to warrant the beginning of the process of discerning a vocation, hence ultimately, perhaps, of admitting a candidate into religious life, In short, I remain firm in the.conviction that the seed of vocation is to be found in very simple soil, that God is, indeed, generous with his gift of the charism of vocation among his People.ol~believe that I find support for this conviction in the. injunction addressed by St. Paul to the Church of Corinth: ~ Brothers, consider ygur situation. Not many of you are wise, as men account wisdom, not many are influential; and Surely, not many are well- 492 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 born. God chose those whom the world considers absurd to shame the wise; he singled out the weak of this world to shame the strong. He chose the world's lowborn and despised, those who count for nothing, to reduce to nothing those who were something; so that mankind can do no boasting before God (1 Co 1:26-29). All of us who have answered Christ's call are carrying a precious treasure in "earthen vessels." We are all fragile and limited. In point of fact, it is precisely persons of the sort that Paul describes who do answer, and have always answered, the call of Christ. Do young people today prefer, or look.for "traditional" communities? At first glance it might seem that they do; the facts seem to suggest this conclusion. But being "traditional" of itself will not attract or keep new members in a community. As for our own congregation, 1 hope and pray that it would be our love for God and his Christ, our love for the Church, our joyful service of God's People, our constant endeavor to overcome our sinfulness, our desire to live in community, and, perhaps most of all, our evident awareness of who we are and what we are trying to accomplish with our lives, with the help of his grace--that these are what constitute our attractiveness and the effec-tiveness of our invitation to young people to come be with us, and to strive with us to do the same. The procedure we follow in establishing and maintaining contact with potential candidates is simplicity itself. We have very modest advertisements in a few publications; there is word of mouth; and to some extent there is theinfluence of our few institutions. These are the sourcesofjust about all of our initial contactg. But, whatever the source, every contact is taken very seriously, and every individual who makes contact receives individual, consistent--and even persistent--attention. The sisters who undertake this labor of maintaining personal contact have made lasting friendships beyond the circle of' those who actually became candidates, who actually entered. This, in barest outline, is our entire procedure of vocation-re-cruitment. There will always be vocations to the radical living of the Gospel, just as there will always be people who would "dare to let God be God'in their lives." The seriousness and the respect with which we treat every initial contact is based on this assumption. , Surely we live in times that are hard for religious life. Of course we are aware that throngs of young people are not beating on convent doors seeking entrance. Yet we ought not to abandon hope as though God were not Lord. This difficult age is the time into which you and I are born by ,God's Answering the Call of Christ / t193 holy will. And we always seek to embrace this holy will. We have to pray, to sacrifice, and to surround with tender, but also with effective care, those whom God has called and entrusted to us. We have to make earnest efforts to find these young people and to invite them to continue the project of religious life into the future, not for the sake of maintaining a community or an institution, but that God's grace.might continue to be evidenced to a world that is hungry for our witness, and that his kingdom might be enfleshed in our time, too--in accordance with his most holy will. Speaking to seminarians in 1979, our Holy Father said: It is worth dedicating oneself to the cause of Christ, who wants valiant and decided hearts . It is worth making an option for an ideal that will give you great joys, even if at the same time it demands a good many sacrifice!! May those who have received the gift of a call to this life and service take these words into their hearts with courage and joy! "It is worth it!"---as we all here today know so well. Trinitarian Image Let us make man to our image and likehess (Gn 1:26). The Father's image: creating, loving, providing; Dimmed by destroying, not caring, denying. The Son's image: compassionate, patient, self-immolating; Blurred by indifference, impatience, self-seeking. The Spirit's image: sanctifying, consoling, strengthening; Marred by debasing, neglectihg, undermining. Dimmed, blurred, marred By life's harsh ways, Unexpectedly, breathtakingly revealed By mankind suffering. Sister Catharine Consilii, S.S.J. 17 ! I Race St. Philadelphia, PA 19103 Facing the Future: Formation in Apostolic Spirituality Patricia Spillane, M.S. C. Our readers will recognize Sister Spillane as the author of"From Tablet to Heart: In-ternalizing New Constitutions," which appeared in the issues of July/August and September/October, 1982, and which is still available as a single reprint. Sister, a 'Missionary of the Sacred Heart, is a novice director for her community, and is involved in "Philadelphia's very ac~tive inter-community formation program." She may be addressed at the Sacred Heart Novitiate; 67th and Callowhill Streets; Philadelphia, PA 19151. As theologians, spiritual writers, and religious leaders struggle with the attempt to define and clarify apostolic spirituality---especially as it is emerging today among American men and women religious--we, as minis-ters of formation, have a special problem. ~There are fifteen years remaining until 2000 A.D. During these years, how are we to fulfdl our responsibilities to our congregations, to the Church, arid to the wrrld in helping to form men and women who are ready for the adventure and challenge of apostolic religious life? Some of us may be tempted to ignore the challenge before us, maintain-ing a style of formation that certainly worked in the past, but may not prepare persons for the reality they must face in the next fifteen years. Others of us may see so much flux about us that we may decide that "mainstreaming" is the best approach to formation, and so fail to provide the basic core of stability necessary for religious and human development. How do we avoid these two extremes? I am sure that all of us will spend the closing years of this millennium in seeking adequate responses to that question. 494 Formation in Apostolic Spirituafity / 495 In these pages I would like to focus on some characteristics of our emerging apostolic spirituality, and offer some tentative formational guidelines: To begin with, it seems to me: Apostolic religious are called to be evangelizers in an environment that it " increasingly de-structured and stressful. This calls for greater maturity in ' both religious identity and personal identity. Apostolic Religious Are Called to Be Evangelizers , If we are to be, and to form, men and woman of and for the Church, we are called to form evangelizers since: ° Evangelizing is in fact the grace and vocation proper to the Church, her deepest identity,. She exists in order to evangelize.~ Therefore, beyond any professional skills with which men and women come to religious life today, and the professional formation ,.we may subse-quently giv~e them, there must be a primary commitment to .the central mission of evangelization. Whether a Young religious is destined io. be a DRE, a parish social minister, a CEO in a large hospital, or a Dean of Students in an academic environment, he or she must be primarily an eWhgelizer within any given structure or situation. , To prepare persons to become evahgelizers calls for a twofold thrust. On'the one hand, We need to motivate them for their o,wn ongoing spiritual journey: [they] have a constant need ~f being evangelizqdthemselves, if [they] wish to retain freshness, vigor, and strength in order to proclaim the Gospel (EN 15). On the other hand, we need to encourage personal maturation in them of the human foundation on which the spiritual Can build the maturation in self-awareness and capacity for discernment which is so essential for mission and evangelization. For example, we need to help persons in formation to recognize their own tendency to hide behind a role, or profes-sional structure, .or human efficiency instead of dealing directly with the risky business that evangelization can be. Not only must they be in an evangelizing stance with those to whom they minister, but even more importantly, also with their lay collabora"tors and peers. Often those who can easily minister to students, patients, or parish families are threatened when called upon to address those same issues with faculty, staff, pastoral associates, and others. If our religious institutions are to remain viable into the third millennium, this evangelization of staff is even more essential. As formators of apostolic religious, we need to help men and women in 496 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 initial formation to grow in the strength and clarity of their personal religious identity so that they can face the anxiety-provoking and risky challenges of evangelization at all levels. In becoming aware of who they really are and who they are called to be, young religious can move away from defensively using comfortable positions and allow themselves to be confronted by the unsettling demands of evangelization. Similarly, those who have become Comfortable with evangelization need to be flexible enough to respond ~to the needs of the congregation within its institutiom, see the evangelical possibilities in that setting, and not cling to situations that may be' more personally satisfying. A growing capacity for mobility and flexibility--for realistic adjustments to the demands of the apostolate; .congregation, and Church--is essential for apostolic religious formation. Otherwise, we run the risk of always having to adjust the apostolate, congregation and Church to the demands of the individual. In an Environment That Is Increasingly De-structured In many congregations, much of the pre-Vatican II system of a well-or-dered religious life regulated by stated norms and given structures has disappeared. However, the need for personal and group order remains. What has replaced the external structures and systems? A vacuum? Chaos? Peer pressure? Ideally, we would like to think that it has been replaced by individuals who have the cap~icity to structure themselves and make deci-sions about external structures that are both human .and value-oriented. But since experience teaches us that this does not happen automatically, what are we doing as formators to foster the'development of such individ-uals? Are we providing people in initial formation with sufficient opportu-nity to make their own decisions, build up their own "structures, and then reflect on how those decisions and structures promote their formation?' The decrease in numbers of personnel has also contributed to destruc-turing. Men and women entering religious life today must be ready to enter into smaller communities; they may be the sole religious in a school, clinic or agency. Again, this requires a different style of relating, a greater facility in communicating with different .types of people. Religious need to be much more independent, while at the same time committed to the value and process.of community-building. Hence the identities of which I have already spoken must include the'capacity for both autonomy and intimacy in the kind of religious life that can move ahead to the millennium. The decrease of religious structures also means that we do not live surrounded by visible reminders of our faith, but in an increasingly secular-ized world. Consumerism, professionalism, self-actualization can appeal to our emotional needs and dull that faith vision of who we are and what we Formation in Apostolic Spirituality / 497 ¯ are called to be in the world for others. People coming into religious life (and those already present!) can bring with them a real confusion between their needs and values, colored and encouraged by a society of which they are a part. To be able to distinguish clearly between what is emotionally attractive and what is consonant with the Gospel requires a process of human and spiritual integration that takes time and skill. However, with-out it, apostolic discernment can flounder, our faith vision can be distorted in the service of ourselves, and we can substitute our personal preferences for the Gospel .of Christ. In An Environment That Is Increasingly Stressful Change, work, pressure, being too alone, being too close--all of these can prove threatening to different individuals at different times, producing stress and tension. While a certain amount of life-stress is inevitable and should be an impetus for growth, certain kinds and levels of stress tear at the very fabric of apostolic religious life. Naturally, we will experience the tension of renunciation between our own needs and Gospel values if we are trying to follow the Lord, but he rarely asks us to labor passively under continuous stress. Persons differ in their capacity to withstand stress and in their ways of coping with it. Some carry such an inner burden of conflict that hardly any external pressure is needed before they feel any stress; these may be the same persons who have never developed effective coping mechanisms to deal with the normal tensions of life. Others may unconsciously deny the inner effects of external pressure--only to end up ulcerated, aggravated or acting out in inappropriate ways. People in early stages of religious life development need to have a good handle on their inner stress patterns and coping mechanisms so that they will be able to face the realistic difficulties ahead of them. Unrealistic expectations of future community and mission need to be encountered and dealt with one by one, along with an understanding of what inner factors interact with external difficulties to make stress reach intolerable levels. The years of initial formation would seem to be an excellent time for dealing with inner tensions, so that later these may not be the source of distortion, projection and unnecessarily high tension in the community and mission. For example, someone who expects community to be far more nurturing than it can or should be may need help to understand what factors in them produce such a,need-expectation for support, affirmation and comfort. Another who expects community assignments to enhance her own profes-sionalism must confront why her inner security and self-esteem are so 4911 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 shaky. Both kinds: of situations produce frustration and stress that can. easily become intolerable unless they can begin to be defused :by one ,who understands both the person and the values of the congregation. Since so many religious congregations .are .in a state of bridging between, the past that is still with us and a future that breaks out here and there, we need to address with those in formation those realistic sources of tension that are built into our current state of religious life; i.e., tensions ~that may be generated by: -living with religious who are threatened by or resentful of change; -being the only religious ministering in a particular institution; -having assumed too much work and too ~much responsibility and more. We need to be able to deal with the stress inherent in forging ahead, which always involves leaving behind: -leaving behind familiar patterns of living and working, to risk the new and unfamiliar in an effort to respond to God's people; -enduring Separation from friends and loved ones. to move to areas where the need is greatest; -leaving behind our own concepts of ministry to be able to. listen and respond to what the community is asking; -"letting go" of consumer comforts that we can use to,assuage our tensions and pain. All of this indicates that we should not be passive victims of stress, but active collaborators in seeking to integrate and hear what the Lord is saying behind or through each tension. As formation ministers, we cannot expect to help others unless we ourselves have dealt with our own stress issues:- the stress of unrealistic expectations from the community, of dis-agreements with those in authority, of our own sense of inadequacy in facing certain problems, of our own reluctance to confront certain individ- Uals or situations. All 'of these create stress; as a :result.we may try to avoid or deny .the problem; repress our anger and depression, somatize our difficulties, or displace upon otherskand never provide the modeling in stress management that young people in. formation need to see in us. Maturity in Religious Identity The 1983 document of the International Union of Superiors General on Apostolic Spirituality maintains that living a truly apostolic religious life calls for "bold initiatives, constancy in self-giving,0and humility in adversity.~2 Such a challenge can only be met on the solid foundation of an integrated life where religious identity has gradually consolidated and merged with personal identity. As the same document reminds us: "Grace Formation in Apostolic Spirituafity / 499 presupposes nature, is grafted onto it, and ennobles it" (AS 9). (Actually it is :misleading to speak of these two identities as separate, but for discussion .purposes, I.~will look at them sequentially.) Religious identity is not a matter of religious enthusiasm or intellectual curiosity, of certain behaviors, practices or opinions. It is the result of a slow process that occurs where someone (whose personal identity has already crystallized to some extent)gradually surrenders to the Lord, stage by stage and step by step, in a context of growing relationship. Often in very young persons or those whose identities are poorly formed for many reasons, :a cloak of religious appearances may cover up the underlying emptiness. In some religious communities, this may take the form of exter-nal conformity and going along with the group; in other communities it may take :the form of using all the right phrases, being involved in all the current issues. However, this pseudo-religious front (which is unconscious to the person) may mask a lack of genuinereligious struggles and personal convictions, of hard.won growth in prayer and faith over the years. It is possible for one whose identity is weak or confusedto join a group that promises a clear picture of who the person is supposed to be. Religious identity is then "put on" as an external garment, rather than being slowly built up from within~. Certainly, religious identity calls for transformation in Christ, but it would seem that normally Christ looks for someone who already t~ in order to enter into transforming dialogue, A pseudo~religious identity will always be looking for external clues in ambiguous community and ministerial situations. He or she will be seeking security along familiar and well-trodden paths. On the contrary, a trans-formed .personal identity will be one that can risk, dare, step out (if even in .only hidden and small ways), He or she will be taking small steps toward the "profound interiority" (AS 20) which alone can see the world with a transforming gospel vision. Only one who is maturing humanly and spirit-ually can enter into genuine ~relationship with the Lord, allowing defenses to. crumble until one stands naked and loved before him. From that matu-ration comes the kind of compassion for other~ and "apostolic love" (-AS 17) that is .the hallmark of apostolic spirituality. How do we promote this process as religious formators? First of all, we must be in .touch with our own faith journey over the years, seeing the various phases of our own maturing in fidelity--as well as being willing to confront those infidelities 'with which we still struggle. Only in that way can we trust .our own intuitions about the maturation in faith of those with whom we work. -~ Secondly, we must insure that "religious identity" is not being Used defensively by identification with religious structures, works or lifestyle.We 500 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 must look to see if the entering person has sufficiently consolidated a sense of self so that grace can build upon nature~ Thirdly, we must remember that religious and human development are intertwined and actively encourage people in formation to get integrated professional help to resolve the inconsistencies that ma3) hamper the development of their voca-tion. Fourthly, we should continue to'provide experiences throughout the formative period where our men and women in formation have the oppor-tunity to struggle with their own religious beliefs, practices and values alone or with less support than they would like. This may sound~cruel, but if they are always surrounded by an environment that is protective of their values, they may be unconsciously only complying for the sake of rewards or punishments, or identifying for the sake of belonging to the. group. (Of .course, we have to be able to provide the hdp to process the experience and support them through the difficulties.) Unless young people find themselves occasionally in situations devoid of rewards or group support, how will they ever know if they have.internalized the value for the sake of the Lord they profess to follow? Whereas a pseudo-religious identity is based on compliance and identification, a genuine religious identity is based on internalization of gospel values that are uniquely appropriated by the indi-vidual within the context of a loving relationship with Christ that extends outward to the community and to the world.4 In an environment where the external structures and norms supporting compliance have disappeared, often we can search for like-minded groups that will support our choices and values. This is one of the reasons why identification with community is so strong among people entering religious life today. Identification is a normal stage for someone entering religious life, but that stance needs to mature and grow. At best, identification is a temporary solution on the road to forging a more mature religious identity that can both walk alone and be with others during the next fifteen years. For example, someone could have identified with a social justice group that provided significant formative influence and support for his emerging identity. While that is a good departure point for a ministry to the poor, sooner or later the person needs to face deeper issues in himself; e.g., perhaps how his anger when his work is not appreciated has more to do with his own conflicts than with his love forthe poor, or how his generosity wanes when his companions move onto another field. A preferential option for the poor needs to be at the service of the poor--not at the service of one's own needs for approval or esteem, or as an expression of one's narcissism or displaced aggression. The poor and emarginated. deserve the best we can give them--the persevering self-less labor of one willing to lay down his life because he has truly understoodand internalized Formation in Apostolic Spirituafity / 501 Jesus' attraction to the powerless and oppressed. We can help people to grow to that point of self-less giving--and often the best place to start ourselves is by embracing the often thankless, frustrating, and lonely posi-tion that is ours as ministers in the service of formation. Maturing in Personal Identity I have already mentioned several components of emerging personal identity that strengthen and consolidate the human foundation that the Lord draws to himself: -the ability to structure oneself in a meaningful and integrated way; -the ability to handle internal and external stress; -the capacity to internalize gospel values which provide a dynamic motivational source. There are many ways in which personal identity interfaces with religious identity, but I would like to mention only one additional factor because of its significance for evangelization--i.e., that maturing in personal identity transforms one's manner of relating to others. Maturing in personal identity is intertwined with the process of individ-uation-- that struggle whereby an individual moves away from either an overly-dependent position of symbiosis or cohesion with another (or group)--or from an overly-independent position of aloofness or distance. Obviously evangelization suffers whenever the evangelizer is fixated at one or another of these levels. But the emerging personality is also being deprived (although the person would not feel it that way!)~ither because the person is too fearful to withstand the necessary experience of being alone--or too fearful to interact--and therefore is effectively deprived of that enriching and maturing stretching that the threatposes. It is through facing and dealing with such initially threatening alternatives (between being with or being without another) that each person rtioves along the individuation spectrum to where autonomy begins to be possible--where someone is personally secure enough to "go it alone" when the Lord calls for that in different apostolic or communitarian situations--while at the same time, retaining a genuine capacity for interaction and dialogue. Thus true autonomy and intimacy are fruits of the long journey towards personal identity for the apostolic religious--characteristics which-.can make them servants of the Lord and of the Church--instead of being bogged down in their own fears and resistances.5 We would be foolish to expect people in formation to have completed this passage. More realistically, we need to recognize the individuals who are dependently enmeshed in relationships that are more dependent than intimate (as well as have the courage to recognize when we ourselves are 509 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 caugh~tA in that bind !), and then lovingly and persistently confront through all the stages of denial and resistance that. follow. Similarly, we need to approach the more disengaged person and persuadg them with time and patience to begin to enter into relationship. In this way, the journey of a thousand miles towards genuine autonomy and intimacy, if it has not already begun by the time of entrance, can do so, with singlebut significant steps ,in the right direction, at the beginning of religious life. Formational Implications Many.formational implications have already been noted in the course of this article. Le me crystallize a few others under two headings: Formation Personnel: If we accept ~he thesis that we need strong religious and human identities to be ev~angelizers in a de-structured and stressful world, then we first have to address these issues for ourselves as formators. How do we as formation personnel deal with prioritizing our own time and energies, with managing our own stress reactio.ns, strugglin~g with our own issues of personal and religious identity? What are we doing for our own perso.nal and spiritual growth processes? How can we understand and empathize with people in formation if we are "detached ~pectators" observ-ing. their struggles from some safe distance or if we are only aware of them on some intellectual level, having,nev~er allowed ourselves to ,get in touch with our own.feelings and our own sense of ourselves? How can we be companions to_those on the formative journey unless we have jou~eyed and been ~accompani~ed ourselves? Obviously there is need for training programs for formation person.nel bu, t, not all.prggrams deal with the issues of personal integration of which.I am speak, ing. It would seem to me that each formator needs to make decisions about where and how he or she will receive this,kind of personal integrating assistance, .so as to be a disciple for the Church and the world by .the turn of the century. Persons in Initial Formation: . Much fine work has.been written concerning spiritual learning and direction _in t,he pre-novitiate, and juniorate programs which needs not be repeated here. However, the issue of how human formation ,interacts with spiritual development.-~-sometimes to enhance.and sometimes toimpede is often a more difficult one for formation personnel. !n recent years, there has been much interest in "readiness criteria" for various stages of formation which include elements, of both religiousand personal identity; for example Formation in Apostolic Spirituality /'503 Giallanza and ~Gleason's concern for comfort with affectivity, personal independence, social comfort, generosity.6 It would seem that apostolic religious life calls for some degree of actualization of ttiese areas prior to entrance, as well. as reliable indications of capacity to continue to grow in .those directions. How can this be addressed.'? ,~ It would seem that one way would be for the congregation to be in dialogue with the professional doing psychological' testing, indicating ahead of time to the psychologist what are their areas of concern for their religious life and apostolate. Specific feedback can then be requested in these areas concerning the person being tested. The psychologist should be able, through depth interviewing, projective and non-projective testing, to assess the strengths and weaknesses of the applicant, to indicate their capacity to grow and mature in the needed areas and under what circum-stances- e.g., spiritual direction, delaying entrance, growth therapy, work experience, etc. In addition to providing feedback on the person's strengths and weaknesses, a psychologist who is a religious may also offer a perspec-tive on how mature the persbn's religious values seem to be. Feedback to the individual is essential so that the assessment can chal-lenge the person to work with formation personnel on their growing edge. There should be also the possibility of further ongoing help so that, ~by ,growing in self-awareness, the individual may free himself or herself more for the kingdom and the great work of evangelizat.ioh to be dofie in the Church. Another equally important component of maturing identity for ~pos-tolic religious life is apostolic experience, carefully planned and monitored to allow the individual to experience the joys and frustrations, challenges and monotonies of missi6n. However, apostglic experience can eithe'r be a tool for grov~h or an occasion of disillusionmeiat and bitterness, dependihg on how aware the persons are of their own tend.encies, of the apostolic reality that lies before them, and of how much help they have had, prior and during, .to process the experience.7 Finally, I think it is important for people entering religious life to gee that we are all engaged in the same struggle and that we, as professed, take our own ongoing formation as seriously as we do initial. In that way, they can have more realistic expectations of where they should be along the continuum of religious life as they move to final profession--and how much the work of maturing in apostolic religious life is the journey of a lifetime. The document on Apostolic Spirituality maintains that: The integration of prayer and action., is a gradually evolving and quite often a falteringly progressive experience. However falteringly, if lived in 504 / Review'for Religious, July-August, 1985 sincere response to God's ongoing call and constantly molding action, it giv~es rise to that Christ-mindedness which should characterize the true apostle (AS 45). Men End women in initial formation need to feel that they are partners with us in the same "falteringly progressive experience." We accompany each other on this passage into Christ-mindedness, steadfastly encouraging ,those who are pilgrims with us along the way. NOTES ~Paul Vl. On Evangelization in the Modem World, Dec., 1975 no. 14. 2"Theological Reflections on Apostolic Religious Life." Molinari; Ewen, Vallejo. USIG Bulletin, no. 62, 1983. (This document was also printed under the same title in Review for Religious, Jan/Feb, 1984.) Hereafter referred to as AS. ~For a more extensive treatment of the interrelationship between human and spiritual development, see: Joyce Ridick, S.S.C., 71"easures in Earthen Vessels: the Vows. Sthten Island: Alba House, 1984. 4For more discussion on the relationship between compliance, identification and inter-nalization in ~:eligious life, see: Luigi Rulla, S,J, Depth Psychology and Vocation. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1971, esp. pp. 146-152, 307-318. ~For further discussion on the role of identity in religious life, see: Patricia Spillane, M.S.C., "Called to Be Both Loyal and Prophetic," In-Formation, May, 1982. 6Joel Giallanza, C:S.C., and John Gleason, C.S.C., "Reflections on Initial Formation," Human Development, Fall, 1984. 7patricia Spillane, M.S.C., "When is Apostolic Experience Formative for Religious Life?" Reprints of the Religious Formation Conference, October, 1981. Cross-Cultural Formation: ¯ Culture Does Make a Difference Pat Forster, 0 S.E Sister Forster is director of six novices and seven sisters with temporary profession. Her previous experience included nursing and mission work in Latin America. She has earned a Master's Degree from the Franciscan School .of Theology. Sister Forster may be addressed at 727 East Margaret Street; St. Paul, MN 55106. ~n addressing the subject of cross-cultural formation, I believe it is neces-sary to discuss the racial and cultural implications for both the initiate entering a formation culture and for the directors involved in the orientation of a new member to the community as well as of the community, to the new member. I will, then, first speak of the reflections I have embraced as a formation director. Later, I will addressthe implications for the initiate in a multi-cultural environment. Perhaps the call to formation personnel is a little simpler in that the expectations of what is hoped fo, r are put on one person or one team rather than on a whole cgmmunity. Somehow a community expects of formation personnel what in reality .is important for all of its members. The basic needs are the same. Each person in community is essentially a formation dir.ector, and needs the suggestions that will follow in this article. However practically speaking, we all know that doesn't happen. Formatioia personnel will probably be more effective in cross-cultural formation if they have experienced another culture and have, therefore, an understanding of the pain of oppression as well as of the freedom of having entered into another lifestyle. Formation personnel must also be prayerful people who through their reflection and love respond with transcendent 506 / Review for Religious, July-J4ugust, .1985 values. They would, then, respect the whole person, regardless of c61or, culture, education, beliefs, or personality. It seems that one of the major areas of concern would be that formation personnel have a good grasp of who they are.and who the other is. This will include a good psychological grasp of the stages of growth and development in adults as well as an understanding of the formation person's own personal growth and devel-opment. Granted, this is a lifelong process, and as individuals we are always limited in our ability to do this, there must be some indication that something of depth is in process for this director and her or his God. A few worthwhile questions for formation personnel might be: In what way am I oppressed? If a woman, do I recognize my oppression as a woman? If of a minority culture, do I identify xwho I am and embrace this difference? Am I threatened by not understanding my feelings and thus deny them, or am I open to the unfolding of myself and the other (see Mk 14:66-82)? Foi'mation directors, in addition .to being prayerful .and clear about who they are, will need to be friends who emPower the initiate (see Jn 21:5-17). Each initiate is in the same process as the.director--that is, pre-paring for loving service which is essentially unknown: "And somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather, not go" (Jn 21:18). To change and to accept who we are and who the other is, is a challenge because we really do not know the outcome. The results will be realized in a new fullness, in the mystery of death and resurrection. Cross-cultural vocations ~;ill need an environment which is, at one time, of their own familiar tradition find, at another time, of the tradition of the other. As Bishop Lyke stated: "W~ need to be with our own at one time and at another time, we need to be with the other."l Because there are no answers ~ind the process is rather a continued one, cross-cultural formation programs will need frequent evaluations and multiple opportunities. An environment which offers multicultural opportunities would be positive. If the initi~ite can actually experience his or her own culture in the parish or in a Specific Christian community while also experiencing the mixture of cultures within the community, distinctions could be made which would identify "yours, mine, and ours." "There is one Body, one Spirit, just as ybu were all called into one and the same hope when you were called" (Ep4:1-~5). Another area of particular importance is that of couhseling. A forma-tion and/or spiritual director must be very aware of differentiation. For example, the way one culture approaches authority, modesty, family life, and so forth, is different from the way another culture d6~s. If several cultures are involved, the formation director will need to be very sensitive to the nuances of languages and culture. The ideal would be that the~dii'ector~ Cross-Cultural Formation / 507 be bilingual and thus know moreconcretely the difficulties of understanding variations in meanings. We must always assume that, if two languages are being used, there is a language problem, This is also true of the differefit languages used.between the whites of Northern U.S.A, and the blacks of Southern U.S.A. Another language is involved. The challenge'is on both sides, not on one or the other. Both verbal and non-verbal messages and feelings need to be understood. The more sensitive person is often the more highly motivated person and the most open to new experiences, so a sensitive person is most helpful. Yet knowledge and experience in another culture tan increase sensitivity andthe ability to identify with another person, and motivate him/her toward further growth? Those directing formation will need to be able to live with the tensions between cultures and facilitate an integration into community. They will ~need to encourage personal identity with the person's culture and within the community. They will need to discern that which is a personality weakness, strength, cultural difference, and simple adjdstment to the for-mation culture and the community culture. Ehch person has a special charism. So, special parish or civic experiences will be important within the pari~h or~ civic community, ~With a variety of°cultures, special coimselors will be important. A black woman needs a bla~k counselor perhaps, or a special house of formation may be needed for the new Hislbanic candidates. Special prayer styles, studies, communications, liturgies, periodicals, and love will be necessary for-all hoping to live effectively in a cross-cultural community. Basic Theology : There is a basic theology which I would name, poetically, a theology of "Conversion and Conflict: ~. ontemplation and Creativity." A multi-culturMcontext implies the challenge of a.multiplici~y of ~,iewpoints which correspond with the differing experiences of people from diverse backgrounds and cultural traditions. A multi-cultural context suggests that no one group has a monopoly on truth. It further implies that.people from cultural and racial backgrounds other than our own are not merely "strange" or "different" or "inferior," but have a perspective of their own) Each person then is unique and important. No one person or culture is to remain isolated, Human beings or groups are always called to live in .tension. This tension can be both negative and positive. It is negative when it causes too much self-occupation or gelf-negation. It is positive when it calls the person to growth and conversion. Transcendent values take the individual to conversion. The human person possesses a character of abso- ¯ 508 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 luteness which transcends as well as~ constitutes the person. To live in a cross~ultural community, conflict and conversion are simultaneously necessary. Conversion is necessary because .it is a turning to the Lord, a turning ~to the truth within self, to the home within. It is a turning to the truth of the other. This truth is known through walking in some confusion and conflict to a new openness and finally to a solidarity. Within this process the human spirit releases its true spirit which is symbolic of a transcendent reality. The transcendent-reality to which I refer is that pro-cess of unfolding the~ true person within the transforming-converting power of the Lord Jesus. This is the individuation or humanizing process which creates new persons and/or new communities. Sacrament and Sacred Having spoken for an openness to constant conversion in ~he midst of differences and conflict, I now wish to speak of the need for a theology of the sacred.All is sacred. All is created by God. We as dependent creatures can interpret all as sacred or profane. In the life of every person the underlying plea is that we interpret the other as sacred. In community, too, the underlying plea is that we interpret the other as sacred. To treat another sacredly is to recognize sacrament. Jesus in his humanness is the primordial sacrament; this is, Jesus, first ¯ and foremost, announces God's loving kindness, compassion, recon.ciliation,¯ presence, otherness. Insofar as we are receptive to this presence in another, we are recognizing the other as sacrament. Our taking time to understand the uniqueness of the other in his or her culture and history is taking the time to know a new divine reality, a new sacrament, the sacred: Doing this will create a new community, a.cross-cultural community. It will mean I never take for granted that I know your history or even that I know my own. It does take for granted that I do not know but am learning daily. Formation directors of cross-cultt~ral communities, then, will be recon-cilers, knowing they have failed to love both locally and globally. ~They will be taken beyond today and beyond the United States. They will begin to see themselves as a minority who will be open to the majority. They will be men and women willing to create a "civilization of love." Cross-Cultural Formation For some years now, perhaps even centuries, there has been something of a debate about culture. Does it make a difference? We North Americans have had a sense of the "melting-pot" within our heritages. Today, in 1985, the "melting-pot" concept is basically unacceptable. Today we respect and honor the sacredness and uniqueness of each person, and further, of each Cross-Cultural Formation / 509 culture. As a people, we do not.ask one anothei" to be part of a melting-pot, we speak more appropriately of a "mosaic," that is, of a people who Choose to come together and are aware of their uniqueness and innate value systems. These people then identify their culture and acculturate on the basis of self and communal awareness. This is an informed decision and it is a decision which retains its own value system. The initiate, then, who chooses toj0in a community which has another cultural.orientation must be a person who knows his/her identity as differ-ent and cherishes that identity while knowingly entering into and accultur-ating to the community only insofar as her/his uniqueness and richness are not compromised. This, of course, will not be possible for many initiates. They will not have that security about their self-identity and thus will need more time or, more specifically, their own time. ,George DeVos states that the following areas will need to be addressed for the persons of multiple cultures coming together: I. Each culture raise~ questions regarding a differentiation between the culture and physical, or motor development; 2. There are issues related to the information-processing mecli-anisms in personality. That is, cognition, perception, and logical thought which carries with the culture; 3. The expressive components in human behavior related to the nature of symbolic thought in the person and its expres-sion through myths, dreams, ritual practices, ideologies, and other bodies of emotional and affective motivations vary within cultural traditions; 4. Empirical investigations find socialization patterns unique. Certain cultures collectively have prevalent child-rearing practices, role expectations, and specific values on the intel-lectual and emotional developments of their members; 5. The mode of change and its implications in cultures differ. Unless there is an asserted effort by social sciences to under-stand change in concert, each discipline and each culture will have partial answers; 6. There are issues~ related to the prob.lems of mental health. What is conformity in one culture .is deviance in another.4 ¯ Over the past four years, I have seen all six of these principles in action. I have 'ministered in two formation programs and the persons included in. the programs were black, white,~Hispanic, and Asian. Let me now address each area specifically. Physical and Motor Development .~ The most important cultural influences on physiological growth are, of 510/ Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 course, related to diet. Other cultural influences related to physiological growth are those of intense sensory stimulation. Included in this stimulation is the effect of such things as circumcision, piercing of the nose, ears, or lips, inoculations, shaping of the head, clothing, experiences of extreme heat and cold, or the .administration of internal stresses such as emetics, irritants, or enemas. When these kinds of things are found in a culture, theperson is found to be taller,.than those in a culture where there is no such stimulation. There are also noticeable differences between carnivorous and non-carni-vorous eaters, between smokers and non-smokers. Cultural pa.tterns tend to,be related~to ~the physiological, psychological, and spiritual patternings .of a.people~ ~ ' Information and Processing One's perception, cognition, and logical thought~change with the family environment, societal pressures, and global awarenesses. If a person is given an intelligence test which is standardized for the Anglo, a Chicano will likely fall short because of another environmental influence. It is of utmost importance that testing personnel or information seekers are com-petent in the minority or culture they are ministering to, If they are not of that culture, they must be very competent in cross-cultural questions. The examiner must establish a rapport with the examinee and'must be sensitive to cognitive differences. For example, people Who have been trained for years to be introverts will be less responsive to external stimtili and more responsive to values of an internal nature: Special training is required of the examiner for linguistically different learners. Testin~ and information seeking should ideally be donb in the t~stee's first language. Testing results require value jl]dgrnents and, therefore, cannot be '~all-or-nothing decisions." Other criteria must be used for cognitive, perceptive, and logical interpreta-tions. ~Using test score~s as the b~is for making a decision tha! will adversely affect an individual's,.education or occupational (vocational) future consti-tutes a clear abuse of the testing process."5 The problem of cultural bias in criteria must be one of primary focus for testing, employment, motivational evaluation, and cross-cultural growth. Human expression of inner attitudes will vary With gestures, folklore, verbal communication, and more. Without recognition of the differences in cognitive thought the "melting-pot" will continue. That is, witho.ut conscious" awareness of identifying the differences, it is possible to expect people tO blend into another's culture rather than maintain uniqueness. Expressive Components Each cultural tradition has different expressive components. These Cross-Cultural Formation / 511 components are noted, particularly in affective expressions. Dreams, too, are related to a culture and cannot be interpreted except within the cultural context of the dreamer. Family ties are frequently misinterpreted with differing cultures. The components of each culture are. complex and unex-plainable. They must be lived and listened to. An initiate, in order to be tinderstood, will need to be assertive enough to tell the myth of her/his family. The expression of this myth will include family affectivity, ritual; prayer life, food, clothes, games, and so forth. Socialization-Empirical Investigation Socialization patterns vary considerably, depending on the economic level of the "person. One of the young women in formation telling of her myth explained how important it was to the family to eat potatoes; this seemed very logical to the rest of us, the majority of whom came from rural farming areas. However, with further storytelling, the woman indicated that since the income of the family was .were in the form of potato chips in a so.me pop and hamburger. This family to buy a large sack of potatoes and a so minimal the potatoes purchased small package along with perhaps never had enough money on hand large piece of meat on sale. Their money came and went on a day-to-day basis. This econQmic situation formed the physiognomy of the family, its buying power, the habits of the family in terms of diet, and ability of the family to .budget. Another important socialization~ pattern is that of the roles assigne~ to various members of the family. One,child may~be assigned as the home-maker, another as outdoorswoman or man and another as the student. These roles are assigned within a culture, which then.doubles.the significance of the role for a young woman who comes to community and has never learned to cook because she was the ~utdoorswoman, or for the young man who never learned to cook while .in his home but now as a novice must cook fo~ the local community. When the.young man happens to be a Hispanic, the cultural shock is even greater. Men in the Hispanic culture are even more distanced from the kitchen than those in a white culture. Change .Concerning the' issues of change in society,- it is of paramount impor-tance that each culture understand the effects of cultural change on the adaptation and adjustment of individuals. For the individual considering two cultural changes, that of religious life and that of another cultui:al environment, chang~ will be more complex. The personality of the individ-ual will remain in spite of acculturation; and, in fact, it becomes exaggerated in its strengths and weaknesses. This alone can be very difficult for an 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 individual. Without much notice the anger they knew within themselves before seems to have twice its potential. The passivity an individual identi-fied previously now seems twice as passive, and so forth. Initiates must be counseled in these normal phenomena. There are variations of definitions from one culture to another. What is known to be bizarre in one culture is normal in another. Each ethnic group or person must. recognize the basic culture which belongs .exclusively to itself. The initiate must know her/his history and culture. It is not true that we come knowing our history. The initiate must also return to the culture of her/his past and reflect on that which is truly culture, that which is familiar only, and that.which is unique to be one with the "whole lot" while maintaining and sharing that which is uniquely hers/his. This requires a good deal ofself-possession and self-assertion. -. Mental Health ' '~' ThiS area bears little comment since it has been stated already that the mental health of an individual in one culture is very different from that 'of one in another culture. It is perfectly acg, eptable for North Americansto behave like "work~ihoiics" and then take off work for three days because of a cold. It is less acceptable for North Americans to be lazy than for them to be doing something behavioral which would prevent~ the cold. It is very acceptable for a black or Hispanic woman to miss work or a social gathering .because of her monthly cycle than it is for a North American to do so. The initiate, then; must be a person of deep faith, willing to move beyond self. The step beyond self is a step of faith. All persons involved in the cross-cultural formation l~rogram must be a transcendent people. To be a transcendent people is to be a people who believe in a God of surprises. The willihgness to gift one another with the space and place to be whb we are as well as~to become a new people, a transcendent people, is to be a people, who beli~ive ina new richness, a new community. NOTES ~Bishop James Lyke, O.EM., Assisi Lectures, February 1, 1982,.Berkeley, California. 2Paul P. Pedersen, Juris G. Draguns, Walter J. Lonner, and Joseph E. Trimble, Co,.u.nseling Across Cultures (Hawaii: University of Hawaii Press, 1981), p. 316.~ 3Archie Smith, Jr., Ph.D., "Pastoral Care in Multi-Cultural Contdxt," Guest Lecturei', Pacific School of Religion, February,, 1983, unpublished paper. 4George DeVos, "Problems and Research in Comparative Human Behavior;" Proceed-ings of the American Philosophical Society, Vol. 113, No; 5, October, 1968, ppl 351 ff. 5Joe L. Martinez, Jr., Chicano Psychology (New York: Academic Press, 19~77), p. 181~ Christian and Religious Obedience Brian O'Leary, S.J. Father O'Leary's earlier article, "Celibate Friendship," appear.ed in the issue of Janu-ary/ February, 1980. Father resides in Manresa House (Dollymount; Dublin'3; Ireland) where he is occupied in research and teaching courses in Jesuit spirituality and in the theology of religious life: O ui~ whole relationship"with God can be both e~perienced and under-stood ~n terms of obedience and "disobedience. Obedience is not just one virtue among other virtues. It is not part of a relationship, that is experienced in isolation, or that can be examined in isolation from the remainder of that relationship. It is an element ir~ every virtue, or if one prefers, it is the soil in which all other virtues take root and grow. This, of course, is taking obedience in its widest sense as cooperation with the will of God, bt~t this is also its most fundamental sense. There is an all-pervasiveness about obe-dience ~vhich reaches into every nook and cranny of our human existence. Obedience as Listening It is illuminating to reflect on the root meaning of the Latin word oboedire which means to listen. We are called to listen to God as he speaks, communicates, reveals himself in Scripture, in the teaching of the Church, in other people, in the signs of the times, in our consciences, in the stirrings of our hearts. Such listening can take myriad forms, from basic self-a~cep-tance, throughan eager following of one's special calling within the Christian community, to the final Amen in accepting the time and manner of one's death. Samuel's "Speak, Yahweh, your servant is listening" (1 S 3:10) is the basic,'lifelong attitude and prayer of the devout Christian. Since Christianity is a form of theism, its adherents are committed to a 513 514 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 belief in the self-revelation of a personal God. Consequently much emphasis is placed on the supernatural modes of God's speaking, such as inspired and inerrant Scriptures, and the life and teaching of Jesus himself! At various times in the past ~and in various different ways, God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets; but in our own time, the last days, he has spoken to us through his Son, the Son that he has appointed to inherit everything and through whom he made everything there is (Heb 1:'1-2). But we ought not to minimize the more ordinary, natural modes of God's speaking. God is the God of reality, and so every aspect of reality is a vehicle for his communication with us. Listening begins, therefore, with what is closest to us--our experience of ourselves. We listen to our bodies as they reveal their~ needs to us (e.g. for nourishment, rest, shelter). We listen to our affectivity with its constantly fluctuating attractions and revulsions. We listen to our souls yearning for ultimate meaning, for aesth~etic expe-rience, an'~ for everitual immortality. To fail to listen to ourselves is to fail to listen to God. As we move outwards from our own psyches there awaits us the invitation to listen to others. Men and women in their very humanity, in their interpersonal relationships and as constitutive of society, are mediators of God and his lording pla, n for us. We are called to listen, n~ot just.to the words people use, but to the experiences,~the Vulnerability, the fragility, the mute i0ngings ~that lie behind the words. This mode"of attentive, empathetic listening, this contemplative attitude towards people, involves encountering the other as other find not as a mere projection of ourselves and our o.wn concerns. As the other speaks, so God communicates, whether we are meeting~ttlat other'as individual or as societal, o~ Obedience as Faith ' The all-pervasive, all-embracing quality of obedience is also underlined in Paul's phrase, "the obedienc~ of faith." ~ Through him [Christ] we received grace and our apostolic mission to preach the obedience of faith to all pagan nations in honor of his name (Rm 1:5). .Glory to him who is able to give you the strength tO liv~ according to the Good News I preach, a~nd in which I proclaim Jesus Christ, the revelation of a mystery kept secret for endless ages, but now so clear that it must be broadcast to .pagans everywhere to bring them to the obedience of faith (Rm 16:25-26). ere obedience is clearly not a particular moral virtue, but that total human response to the Good News. which is proclaimed in the apostolic preaching. Paul's mission is to bring people to this surrender in faith to Christian and Religious Obedience / 515 God. This surrender is not forced; it may be refused. It is a free acceptance of, and response to the Word. This is the radical experience of metanoia for which Paul's own conversion on the road to Damascus could ser~e as a paradigm. Ultimately, for Paul faith is obedience and "obedience is faith, while unbelief is disobedience and .disobedience is unbelief. In the Old Testament Abraham exemplifies this faith-obedience both in his response to God's call (Gn 12:1-5) and in his willingness to sacrifice his son, Isaac (Gn 22:1-18). In the latter story Abraham is asked to take and offer as a holocaust not only "your son, your only child Isaac, whom you love" (which would be a natural and personal tragedy), the one person through whom the promises of Yahweh were to be fulfilled for the Chosen People (which would be a spiritual ~and national tragedy). The.key to the biblical writer's interpretation of this complex story is found in the words: All the nations of the earth shall bless themselves by your descendents, as a reward for your obedience (v. 18). But the primary model of Christian Obedience is that of the adult man Jesus to his Father. Time and again, in St. John's gospel particularly, wd see the deep fascination which the Father exercised on the human sensibility of Jesus. Much light is thrown on what it meant for Jesus tO be°Son, and how his personal se~nse of identity came from his experience of filial'~relationship. His mission appears, not so much as something entrusted to him from outside, but a~s intrinsic to who he is. "To be Son" is "to be ~ent'~ is "to be on mission." My food is to do the will of the one who sent me, and to complete his work (Jn 4:34): 1 can do noticing by myself; I can only j6dge as I am told to judge, and my-judging is just, because my aim is to do not my own will but the will of him who sent me (Jn 5:30). When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he and that I do nothing of myself: what the Father' h~ taught me is what I preach; lie who sent me is with me and has not left me to myself, for I always do what pleases him (Jn 8:28-29). The world must be brought to know that I love the Father and that I am doing exactly what the Father told me (Jn 14:3 l). The cumulative effect of such textspowerfully communicates the obe-diential attitude of Jesus into which the Father wishes to draw all Christians. Obedience within the Church The Father sent his Son to carry out a saving mission which culminated in the Paschal Mystery, the death and resurrection ,of Jesus. The Father 516/ Review for Religious,, July-August, 1985 and the Son sent the Holy Spirit to carry out a sanctifying mission which inaugurated the community of the New Israel at Pentecost the commu-nity that is Church. Through baptism each person who is initiated into the Church is at the same time inserted into this two-pronged saving/sanctifying mission. Every Christian is not only saved and sanctified but called to share in the saving and sanctifying of others, to be sent into the world as'was the Spirit-filled Jesus. But the primary subject of this sending or mission is not the individual but the community or Church itself. It is by being in com-munion with the Church that the individual receives his/her mission which has its ultimate source ("author") in the Father. Hence the need for authority. Without authority and the means to exercise that authority the Church could not maintain itself in,unity nor fulfill its mission to the world. Since .the Church .is of divine institution and part of God's plan for humanity, the only aut.hority which can legitimately exist in it is God's autho.rity. When we reflect on Scripture we see how God reveals himself, communicates his mes.sage, and exercises his authority through intermediaries or mediators. Moses mediated the Old Covenant to Israel in the Old Testament, while Jesus in his hum~inity mediated the New Covenant in New Testament times. Now the risen Christ through his Spirit shares this mediated authority with th.e Church as a whole and with its duly-constituted leaders. Ho~v such authority is exercised need not concern us here; enough to recognize that it exists and that it is coextensive with the needs of the community for its internal well-being and its saving/sanctifying mission. Much can be learned from the final logion in St. Matthew's gospel: All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, make disciples of all the nations; baptize them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teach them to observe all the commands I gave you. And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time (Mt 28:18-20). Christ's presence thrrugfi the ages guarantees the reality of the lifeline linking the Church with the source, the author, of all authority God the Father. Religious Obedience There is a parallel, although not an identity, between the authority which exists in the community that is Church,and that which exists in the community that is a religious institute. In both, the ultimate source of authority is God; in both, that authority is mediated; in both, an obediential response is required. Such authority within a religious institute is recognized in faith by a person making a vow of obedience, and then responded to existentially through the daily living out of that vow. Although~both the Christian and Religious Obedience / 517 authority and the obedience are mediated, the vow itself can only be made to God, More precisely, it is made to the Father. As with Christian obedience in general, of which religious obedience is a particular expression, our response-pattern as religious is that of Jesus who "emptied himself to assume the condition of a slave" (Ph 2:7), yet knowing that he is the Beloved Son of the Fatfier. Furthermore the religious state constitutes a closer imitation and an abiding ¯ reenactment in the Church of the form Of life which the Son of God made his own when he came into the world to dothe will of the Father (Lumen Gentium, 44). A question, however, can be raised about the legitimacy of my (or any Christian's) making a vow of obedience in a particular institute. There is a presupposition that the' will of God fbr m~ is to be found with more certainty and clarity in the context of this specific group of people. Both logically and chronologically, before the vow, and necessarily underpin-ning it, is :an act of faith. How can such an act of faith be justified'?. The answer is twofold, Subjectively, there is my own inner experience of call which is leadihg me, not into marriage, nor into the single lay state, nor into some other religious institute, but into this concrete grouping of likeminded and vowed Christians. It is presumed that this subjective experience has been prayer-fully and realistically discerned with the aid of competent spiritual direction. Objectively, there is the guarante6 of the Church which, in approving this institute, has recognized it as a milieu in which the Holy Spirit is present and acti~,e. When the institute in its turn decides to accept me as a member, I can be sure that the Holy Spirit will speak to me in the context, and through the authority structures, of thisgrouping. Within such an institute ongoing discernment isopossible, and such discernment brings together harmoniously the interdependent realities of authority and obedience. The vow implies that never again~do I discern anything merely asan individual. Religious obedience is primarily the attitude of the whole institute seeking the will of God through living out the impliEations of its charism in the contemporary 'world. At any particular time this communal attitude may be more or less faith-ful, and so more or less obediential, more or less Christlike. (A barometer, in psychological terms, is often that of'morale.) The individual member, in turn, may be more or less in ha~rmony with this communal attitude. If I have a strong sense of belonging, then I will actively and enthusiastically participate in the institute's communal search for God's will, striving together towards viable and relevant apostolic choices. On the other hand, if I feel alienated from the institute, living on its fringes, I will tend to opt out of the communal search. I will become 518 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 passive in regard to discernment and forward planning, at best adopting a privatized approach to obedience~doing what I am told, perhaps, but otherwise abandoning my responsibility to play an active role in the dis-cerning and decision-making process within the institute.,~This is a form of disobedience and a failure in faith. Four Aspects of Obedience , ~ Christian and religious obedience involves the whole person and calls for a radical stance which can only originate at the core of a person's being. If that cbre has not been touched, obedience remains superficial if not inauthentic. Because of its all-pervasive nature, obedience is multi-faceted and needs to be examined from different points of view if its reality is not to be distorted. With religious obedience especially in mind we~ will now raise up four of these aspects or dimensions. Ascetical The human person is not obedient by nature. There is both a positive and a negative reason for this. Positively, autonomy or self-rule is the mark of the mature pets.on. The journey from childhood to adulthood is in large part a growth in desire for, capacity for, and exercise of autonomy. But since .a per.son lives in a human community, this autonomy has to be balanced by the demands of interpersonal,, social and political realities. Accepting the need for such balance, and integrating the corresponding limitations of one's autonomy, are also parts of the maturation process. All of this already presupposes an ongoing asceticism. Limitations imposed on one's autonomy by external factors and forces invariably pro-voke resistance, anger, pain and yet eventually they have to be rdcognized as inevitable. This process of growth is sometimes presented as moving through the stages of dependence, independeiice, and interdependence. This iast is the mark~of the mature, socially-integrated adult: an autonomy which recognizes the corresponding autonomy and rights of others. Negatively, there are the realities of sin and disorder. The healthy drive towards autonomy is seduced and vitiated by an unhealthy drive towards egoism and pride. While human autonomy can never b~ absolute, yet we are constat~tly beguiled by Satan's promise: "You will be like gods" (Gn 3:5). It is surely significant that the sin of Adam (ht~mankind) is presented in Scripture as disobedience arising from an overweening desire for autono-my the auionomy of God himself. Against this background the ascetical aspect of religious obedience becomes clearer. Obedience is a human virtue, an attitudinal habit which must be learned through its exercise. The aim is never to break a person's Christian and Religious Obedience / 519 will, but to lead the religious to a genuine inner freedom which will prevent manipulation either by outside pressures or by disorders within the-self. Such freedom will express itself not only in docility and availability, but also in creativity and initiative. Mystical. . This second aspects.of obedience consists in that contemplative gaze towards Christ which enables one to discover him in the interplay between authority and obedience. Given this contemplative attitude a religious actualizes an increasingly intimate union with Christ in two ways. Firstly, the person recognizes in the authority of the superior the authori.ty of Christ, and in the person of the superior the person of Christ. Secondly, othe religious enters into and continually enfleshes, the obediential attitude of Christ himself. The Risen Lord does not hand over, as it were, our obedience t6 the Father as something extrinsic to himself. Rather, since we died and rose again with him in baptism, our obedience is part of his obedience, a prolongation of it in today's ~vorld, just as our prayer is part of his-prayer and is offered to the Father as the prayer of the Whole Christ: the Body-~- head and members. Religious obedience, therefore, is both obedience to Christ present in the superior, and a sharing in the obedience of Christ as he responds filially and radically to his and our Father. He was humble and walked, the path of obedience all the way to death his death on the cross (Ph 2:8). Our obedience and that of Christ are co-terminous. They both lead to Calvary. Obedience, therefore, can be compared with martyrdom, as indeed it has been in the tradition. Martyrdom haaS, either be that total, instan-taneous and violent handing over of ourselves to God through other-in-flicted d~hth, or the piecemeal, gradual, daily handing over of ourselv~es to God through the self-inflicted consequences of the vow of religious obedience. The latter is experienced as continued self-emptying which builds'up to that final and inevitable self-emptying of our natural death when we shall hopefully say with utter freedom and love, "Father, into your hands 1 commit my spirit" (Lk 23:46). Apostolic ¯ Insofar as religious obedience is a union with the obediential will of Christ, so far is it also a union with the salvific will of the Father who "wants everyone to be saved and reach full knowledge of the truth" (1 Tm 2:4). As such, along with every other expression of Christian obedience, it is truly apostolic. Nevertheless, in specifically apostolic institutes the link between obedience and apostolate is much more explicit and direct. Here obedience is primarily in function of mission, a spiritual tool of mission. ~90 ] R~view for Religious, July-August, 1983 The reality of, authoi-ity-obedience is thee channel through which mission, ¯ which originates with the Father, is mediated to the institute and to the individual members. Since mission is constittitive of the basic charism of - such institutes, and is not an optional or subsidiary dimension, obedience as apostolic.has an enormous importance and centrality. Under this heading comes the whole area bf apostolic discernment, both personal and communal. Apostolic choiceS---the selection of ministries and plans for running and evaluating them--become a major issue. A deep level of trust and openness between the members of the institute, and especially in relations with superiors, is necessary. Underpinning this, a spirit.uality which closely integrates contemplation and action is required. Authority calls 'forth and harnesses the good will, talents and energies of all, directing them with zeal and in the spirit of the institute, towards mission. In ,such an atmosphere of faith and serious purpose one dare not trivialize obedience, for example, by seeing it merely in terms of discipline, good order, or even of asceticism. If mature adult obedience does not flourish, neither does the charism of the ir~stitute, and neither does the. mission which is that of the contemporary Christ. Unitive Obedience leads to a union of minds and hearts. However, this is true only when its ascetical demands have been accepted, its mystical dimension has been experienced, and its apostolic thrust has become a powerful dynamic in one's own life and that of one's fellow:religious. This unitive aspect emerges almost spontaneously as the result of religious obedien~ which i~ lix;ed authentically and faithfully. It is not the direct purpos.e of obedience, but rather a side effect which can be gratefully recognized and received as part of the hundredfold promised by Christ to those who have left all for his sake. Vowed Celibacy and Human Sexuality M. Keith, 0 S. E Sister Keith works at the Parish Center of St. Alphonsus Church; 154 Church Street; Deet'~eld, MI 49238, where she may be addressed. There is no doubt that the mentors of our society today, probably at no time more so in history, have placed a great deal of emphasis on complete sexual fulfillment as the answer to everything. Heavy demands are placed on people for self-fulfillment via genital satisfaction. New patterns of sexual manners and morals aris'e constantly. This stress on genital intimacy makes it even more difficult to ignore. Media blitzes, which overtly and covertly proffer a barrage of sexual invitations to genital intimacy to the whole of society, at times overwhelm people. It can be said then, without a doubt, that our culture's emphasis on genital sex dbes provide at least subliminal seduction to all. Therefore, in this age, with its stress on genital intimacy for self-fulfill-ment, celibacy seems an impossible contradiction to the expectations for life which most people hold as a value. Lifelong celibacy, deliberately and freely chosen in the face of one of the most sex,oriented of societies, seems like the ultimate madness. To choose celibacy is a challenge to the cultural idols of hedonism and consumerism. Not only does our culture attack the value of celibacy, western attitudes also undermine even the previous supports that once were available for the~celibate lifestyle. In fact, in some ways, ours is the most discouraging culture possible for a celibate option. Celibac~y today demands the courage of a totally countercultural stance. Today it is much harder to avoid coming to grips with sexuality than it used to be. We are more aware how much sexuality pervades a person's 521 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 entire life situation. One's sexuality is seen to extend to every level of being: bodily, emotional, intellectual and volitional. More specifically, human sexuality is a powerful stimulus to move toward others and away from self-centeredness. Human sexuality thus helps attenuate ego-centrism, which dehumanizes both self and others. "Genital sexuality," of course, refers to acts, thoughts, fantasies, desires and feelings which involve or promote direct genital behavior. It is in this sense that today's society holds to the .notion that humanity is impossible without full gratification of the sex drive. Such, however, is not a universal truth. It is the purpose of this paper to show that a vowed celibate is and can become a fully integrated, psycho-sexually mature being without genital sex. Human sexuality is a basic ontological determinant of who we are as persons, and personal i~dentity is.a prerequisite for sexual maturity/identity. This personal identity is, in significant ways, worked out within images of sexual identity and sexual complementarity. Such is fully attained only in the arena of human relationships. Psychological. research shows that the incidence of sexual difficulties and immaturity is neither greater nor less among celibates than among non-celibates. Psychologist Abraham Maslow (1954) pointed out that it is not sexual abstinence as such that is pathogenic, but .the feelings or motiva-tions accompanying it. It is now well known that many cases are found in which celibacy has no pathological effects. Clinical work with non-neurotic people gix;es clear answer that sexual deprivation becomes pathogenic in the severe sense only when it is felt by the individual to represent'irejection by the opposite sex, inferiority, lack of.worth, lack of respect, isolation, or thwarting of basic needs. Sexual deprivation can be borne with some relative ease by individuals for whom it has no such implications. Religious celibates in no way deny or wish to reject their sexuality. In fact their understanding of their celibacy and of their sexuality matures as they advance in age and experience. Becoming an enlightened and respon-sible sexual being is always a lifelong challenge, This challenge involves, among other things, the development of psychosexual maturity. ,And the goal of psychosexual maturity is not orgasm; it is the capacity to love. In the celibate, this maturity is evidenced in the fuller development and harmonious interplay of the individual's psychological and sexual capacities within an ordered value system. Dr. Menninger has stated that "Insofar as choice determines behavior, it stems from some consideration of values." Psychosexual development in the celibate quite evidently cannot be iso-lated from choice and values. There is no realistic way of doing so. Vowed Celibacy and Human Sexuaflty / 523 In choosing celibacy, then, what is at issue is not a negation of any human good or value. It is rather a relativizing of priorities in fife. In choosing a celibate lifestyle, it is a tribute to the values in life that one chooses to celebrate. Celibacy lived means to the individual that: 1) the development of full humanity is more important than genital sexual expression; 2) that true generativity is greater than sexual potency; 3)that self-transcendence is more fully human than self-fulfillment. Psychosexual maturity is not static; it is a dynamic, ongoing process. Whether'a person becomes a celibate or marries, the same maturity, accep-tance of self as a sexual being and the ability to live with impulses and integrate them into the self, is a requirement to achieve full humanity. The bald fact of not being married, of not being involved in a sexual relationship does not constitute the celibate life. To be a vowed celibate means to be empty for God, to be free and open for his presence in many people and to be available for his service. In the past, perhaps, it was not uncommon for some religious and laity to think of celibacy as a state of being asexu~il. In fact, though, vowed celibacy is not an asexual state, even though it precludes full genital inti-macy. Taking vows does not snuff out personality. To say that a vowed celibate drops out of the sexual rivalry game doesn't suggest that the person is no longer a sexual being. It is normal to have sexual feelings. ~ Modern modes of expression would say that the celibate is still fully a sexual being, but without actual genital expression. As stated above, becoming an enlightened and responsible sexual being is a lifelong process; and the celibate, like all other humans, must redirect the tendency to regress into becoming selfish.Celibates need to realize that sexual abstinence does~not automatically confer the capacity to love people in general any more than incontinence in marriage increases the love for anyone. As a matter of fact, though, one difference in the celibate lifestyle is that it does move toward a more freeing love than do other lifestyles. The heart of vowed celibacy is rather.a special, unique and total conse-cration to Christ. The true celibate is effectively head over heels in love with God?' Vowed celibacy is a commitment to love Christ. This is achieved by a genuinely mystical form of life. Without some graspof mystical vision, the celibate is unlikely to remain celibate for long, The depth, and quality of personal prayer manifests itself in the depth and quality of vowed celibacy. Without vision, there is risk of psychic damage. Ignace Lepp (1963) states that ". the libido cannot be channeled in a different direction without injury to sexuality, unless it finds itself entirely consumed in the service of a higher psychic activity." This sublimation means to redirect the sexual drive. It does not mean 524 / Review for Religious, July-August; 1985 to pretend that the sex drive doesn't exist, or to forget it, or to set it aside. Sublimation channels the sexual impulse; it does not stamp it out., But in attempting sublimation, the person must be free and sufficiently motivated by life-ideals which can actually utilize these sublimated energies. The vowed celibate life, attempted without convictions and some form of mysticism, is an attempt at sexual suicide and self-destruction. If lived without an internal conviction, the response will be the simple negation of all the good of life and love and humanity in the individual. One's vowed "celibacy cannot be a complete withdrawal of all involvement in human sexuality; such a step would be the denial of humanity. Rather, consecrated celibacy must become a positive affirmation of beauty and strength. The vow of celibacy, lived with faithfulness, speaks out. against the negative aspects and excesses of the sexual revolution of our time. It contradicts the contemporary attitudes where infidelity and failure to keep commitments is an accepted way of life. Celibacy makes a positive contribution to life since Christian celibacy is an explicit affirmation that a person is aperson first and not second to his or her sex function. It provides a deeper insight into the sexuality of persons themselves. Vowed celibates are seen as total persons, not as individuals dichotomized into body/spirit. Authentic celibacy, then, is an enfleshed experience. Celibacy cannot be understood in isolation. It is experienced in a heterosexual society. It is a growing life experience in and with Christ. This means growing in love with Christ and growing in prayer with Christ. The effects of this lead celibates to a growth and deepening in their love for all people, especially for all those with whom they come into contact. Their response will grow, become actualized and manifest itself in time. And like all love, it defies description. Mature love does not come easy; it is always a growth process. For the b, elibate, this entails a process of growing as a sexual being. It is a continual becoming of the person the celibate is called to be through and. with Christ. Thus celibacy is a call to wholeness and holiness that involves patience, discipline and care. Far from lessening our need of the experience of love, celibacy offers a greater freedom in loving--a freedom to love, at times, without hope .of returned love, and to love the unlovable. This form of unselfish love witnesses to the compassion and mutual respect which are integral to justice, and moral rightness. Celibates live fundamentally indePendent lives; lives not directed to the well-being of.the single destiny for two that is common to. marriage, but directed by the demands of Christ and the Church. Religious celibacy is for loving and living. Vowed Celibacy and Human Sexuaflty / 525 Celibate love is primarily universal in character. It is a call to be con-stantly open to authentic relationships, to befriend any person met with a non-demanding love. It thus is a challenge to celibates to become the persons they are meant to be, to maximize their love and self-giftedness to others. The challenges and rewards of celibacy are the challenges and rewards of love itself. The celibate experience, in sum, is a way of making love, something everyone must do, and, like all lovemaking, it defies close scrutiny. Like all lovemaking, it is a relational exiaerience beyond words. Another great value of the celibate experience is that of availability. ¯ The vowed celibate belongs to no one person, hence to all persons. There is risk to this. Depending on how it is lived, cdibacy can either render the individual sterile or productive. Unless there is a giving away of self, celibacy is supreme sterility. Lived positively, selflessly, celibacy can be distinctively and consciously creative. These creative powers can be termed "generativity. ~ ¯ Generativity is the ability to give, nurture, and sustain life. Erikson states that: ". to know that adulthood is generative does not necessarily mean one must produce children. But it means to know what one does if one does not produce children." In Erikson's eight stages of the development of the person, generativity characteristics of adult life are met even in institutions committed to celibacy. Celibates believe that they will attain a sense of.generativity through loving relationships with people, thus creating life: The celibates'.self-abun-dance and vitality and life-giving existence will be evidenced by their presence and participation in the world. Specifically, the generativity found in vowed celibacy is a commitment to a care and concern that is universal; to a love that is life-giving and without limit. Although there is total and° exclusive intimacy between the vowed celibate and Christ, this does not exclude other relationships. In~ fact inti-macy with Christ depends on other relationships to make it possible. Friendship and support are necessary to the celibate, as is deep prayer and honesty before Christ. Religious celibacy has everything to do with inter-personal relationships. The celibate is a person firmly ~planted on earth for relating to others. Indeed, to be human is to be relational. And, of course, the psychosexually mature celibate loves individuals, not abstract humanity. Today there is a great emphasis on the forming of authentic friendships among both men and women religious. Research has shown that good psychosexual development involves and demands relationships with a vari-ety of people. Drs. Conrad Baars and Anna Terruwe, who have integrated psychiatry with their faith, note that masculine/feminine relationships, as well as same sex friendships, help to develop a wholesome emotional.life. 526 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1985 ~. There can be no genuine happiness without friendships. Friendships, however, are not easily acquired. They demand work, time and cultivation. Human relations are never finalized, Celibacy also requires the development ofa capacity for deep and lasting relationships. Friendship in th~ lives of religious celibates takes many forms, As one moves across the spectrum from a.cquaintance to friendship, however, the reality of celibacy becomes more pertinent. The love of authentic friendship is not easy, and there are those hurts and disappointments which are part of the "human condition" (Sr. Marie Dugas, S.S.A. 1983)~ But the benefits of friendship help make life worthwhile. Jesus is the model for celibates. He loved all people. He also had several disciples and social friends~ These friendships also developed through hurts, misunderstandings and disappointments. The love experienced in celibate friendship is that of the giving and receiving of love. This experience introduces one into a new understanding of life and one's relation to life. It allows one to rid oneself of the unneeded, counterproductive defenses which hinder growth and integration. It allows one tO be touched by the power beyond the self. Research has shown that true growth and healing take place only in a relationship characterized by love. Celibates, then, should have close friends. The development of friendships in the celibate lifestyle is critical to inter-nal/ external integration which if properly pursued will result in an ade-quately mature personality. Sexual urges will not put the celibate value system and behaviors out of sync in genuine friendship. The celibate friendship is less a response to physical attractiveness and more of a caring for what is good in theperson. The celibate friendship is an attentiveness to the other in a flexible manner rather than in a fixation. Mutual love cannot mean mutual possession. Celibates ~are united in friendship only by the bond of their free will, a bond that is not indissoluble as is that of marriage. And celibate friendships normally do not simply happen. There is ever present the element of choice involved in who twill be admitted, and to what degree of intimacy he or she will be admitted, AlL people, not only celibates, fill their heed for intimacy through. friendships. Intimacy in human living is important for personal growth, self-esteem and for a feeling that life is worthwhile. The more we live in :a mass society, the more importaiat are intimate relationships to maintain our individuality and identity. For Abraham Maslow, in the self-actualiz-ing person, the higher need is for intimacy. If this need is satisfied, the need for genitaljty is lessened Vowed Celibacy and Human Sexuafity / 527 Intimacy can be defined as unfeared self-abandonment, an unfeared self-disclosure and a dissolving of ego boundaries. In intimacy, one gives up control of what is seen by the other. It involves the sharing of one's real identity with others. Eric Berne (1974) calls intimacy a "game free" relationship. Healthy interpersonal living always involves both distance and intimacy. A celibate person striving for universal love must realize that this does not mean universal intimacy. Intimacy requires disciplined living. Besides being grounded in one's own vocation, the celibate must affirm and desire the growth of the other. This non-possessive, non-exclusive love also encourages the growth of the other's relationships with people. The celibate is pleased when the other develops new, outside relationships and interests, knowing that they are the sources of life and growth. The celibate knows that it is important that people never stop growing in love. One definition put it this way, "A friend is one who knows you as you are, understands where you've been, accepts who you've become and still gently invites you to grow" (Sr. Marie Dugas, S.S.A. 1983). This is the heart of intimacy for the celibate lover. If the intimate relationship is healthy, life-giving and creative, it will enhance the quality of the celibate's prayer life, of other relationships and the general well-being itself of the celibate. Vowed celibacy is a viable lifestyle. Although the way of celibacy suits relatively few persons, it is in itself, and for those persons a "normal" way to be, a viable way to meet life and create it. Celibacy means distinguishing between needs and wants. It is a meaningful lifestyle. This life entails an act of radical rejection of some values ih the culture that easily become idola-trous. Celibacy is much more than a set of sexual mores; it is an extension of Christian virtue. It is an act of affirmation about certain human and gospel values that easily become submerged in the culture~ The celibate lifestyle is thus prophetic in its witness. The celibate life lived in the Spirit of Christ can be a very profound and rewarding way of life, The celibate, by foregoing the type of mutuality found in marriage, is saying that no 'human efforts or human projects can ever achieve the full destiny possibl6 for humanity. The celibate is, saying that our full destiny is achievable, not by our own power, but through the power of Jesus Christ. Celibacy joyfully lived, presents an alternate vision. This lifestyle proclaims that the end of life is intimacy with God and others. Joyfully lived, this lifestyle points to what must ultimately be the end of any lifestyle, love of God and others for the "sake of the kingdom." Far from being quixotic, celibacy simply is one way that some men and women find it in their heart to be worth following, a way to be fully alive in this world. The Clown on the Cross Margaret Halaska, 0 S. F. Sister Halaska's previous article in these pages was "A Model of Discernment: The Experience of a Franciscan,' (March/April, 1984). As with that earlier article, the present one also offers a reflection based on a personal experience. Sister Halaska may be addressed at Holy Family Convent; Box 6; Bayfield, WI 54814. I It was a Day of P~rayer for me. I unlocked the door of the house where I was staying that day and walked in. A cross with the clown on it was standing on the living room floor, leaning against a table. The figure caught me off guard, and for a brief moment I was caught in the paralysis of.surprise. But its presence was an invitation.which I could not resist. In a short time I was sitting on the floor directly opposite the strange appari-tion. It intrigued me. A soft clown-figure in place ofothe usual corpus of/ hardened plaster., a clown that was warm and gentle even to the eyes . a clown whose puffy cheeks you could squeeze, creating temporary dimples ¯. a clown whose face reflected pain and peace all at once., a clown who was held to the cross partly by an outsized crown of thorns, one of which pierced his clown-hat and held him fast to the wood. During the course Of the day, I prayed long and often befOre the Clown on the Cross. I didn't say much. I tried to listen. The Clown was silent. I was silent. But the silence was not sterile. Eventually, in an explicable way, the Clownflrew me to himself. Suddenly, | wanted to hug him. It was the moment of prayer. The desire became stronger but I became aware that the Clown was too little and I was too big. And that, too, was prayer. I moved closer to the Clown, touching his face and probing his hands and feet. I felt, not the rigor of death, but the softness of Life. In a new and very powerful way the Paradox of the Cross was again speaking to me: One must die to live. 528 The Clown on the Cross / 529 One exceptionally long thorn pinned the clown-figure to the cross. Needle sharp, piercing, it hooked the hat. I found myself feeling a 'slight sense of relief that it was only the hat! At the same time, it appeared that the thorn was what secured the C!own to the Wood, leaving his arms a little more free .than those of the more conventional plaster casts which are nailed tightly. Somehow those arms

Issue 24.4 of the Review for Religious, 1965. ; JEAN GALOT,~ S.J, Why Religious .Life?. A Contemporary Question Why does the religious life exist in the Church today?* A number of religious, both men and women, are asking themselves this question. Promotion of the Christian laity has ilIuminated the saintly role .that the layman is to play within the Church and has called attention to the contribution he is to make in the consecration of the universe. But ~f sainthood is the normal goal of the layman, why bother to seek holiness, in the religious life? Christians are gradually .coming to understand dearly.that the layman' is to pursue perfection' in his own. way. Consequently, 'it is becoming less clear why perfection is to be sought in the convent or the cloister. More particularly, the development of conjugal spirtuality has revealed the value and nobi!it~i of Chris-tian marriage~the riches of the sacrament that elevates £amily life to a supernatural level. Hence souls who thirst for God can. seek the divine presence in married life. Is there any reason, then, to renounce marriage tO adhere to the Lord in the religious life? Furthermore, apostolic services which have been the traditional works of rdligious are being efficiently pro-vided by laymen. Teaching arid nursing, social service ahd home care, these are apostolates which laymen are performing with remarkable competence. The apparent equality in terms of service, whether rendered by laymen or religious, gives rise to the question: Why emer religious life with a view to an apostolate which can be accomplished as well in the laystate? Moreover, the lay apostolate may appear superior. He who is directly engaged in the world is more capable of penetrating today's human milieu to deliver Christ's message naturally and efficiently, i Many religious communities do not give the impression of being adequately adapted to our age. Young people ¯ This article, which first appeared as "Pourquoi la vie religieuse?" in Revue des communautds religieuses, v. 37. (1965), pp. 20-34, has been translated by Raymond L. Sullivant, S:J.; 4Mont~e de Four-vi~ re; Lyon V (Rh6ne), Franco 4- Jean Galot, s.J., is professor of dog-matic theology at Co]l/~ge Saint-At= bert; 95, chauss~e de Mont - Saint - Jean; Ee.genhoven - Lou-yam, Belgium.:. VOLUME 24~ 1965 505 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 506¯ who desire to reflect Christ in the world are reluctant to set out upon a path where constraining barriers separate them from the rest of humanity. They believe that by remaining laymen they Will be able to adhere to the Church and to God's own People in a more vital. -way, thereby giving apostolic expression to their exist-ence. . The recruiting crisis which .a number of congrega- .tions are experiencing makes the problem stand out in even greater relief. Are these communities in step with ¯ the contemporary Church? Is not religious life as a whole crippled by decrepitude? Does not the life's de-creasing ability to attract young people indicate that congregations are no longer in step with pre.~ent dhy mentality and that they have outlived their usefulness? One could answer that the signs of age affect. only the exterior forms of religious life. But are not these forms the manifestation of a spirit? Does not the rapid expansion of saintli,ne~s among the laity oblige religious to raise the question: Is a vision of the Church without ¯ the religious life conceivable? Could not the religious state be a form of holiness which, having played a cen-tral role in Christian life for centuries, could now dis-appear to be replaced by other.forms? The fact that the Council accorded special atten-tion to these problems, that its i resolution expressed the desire to see religious life develop with the life of the Church by adapting to the present day world, suffices to orient the answer to our questions. But a serious obligation exists to explore the problem in order to analyze the true meaning of religious life and its reason for being.1 Let us begin by considering the juridical structure which we customarily believe to form the framework of religious life. Canonically speaking, the state is constituted by the profession of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. But let us attempt to trace the life blood to its source--to the gospel from which it springs and from whence life flows. In other words, let us briefly, determine the place which Christ wished to reserve for the religious life when He founded His. Church. x The diversity of recent publications on the subject attests to the need and widespread desire for a searching inquiry into the doctrine of religious life. We shall limit ourselves to two collective studies: La vie religieuse clans l'Eglise du Christ (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer); Les religieux au]ourd'hui et demain (Paris: Cerf, 1964); and to two .individual ones: Soeur Jeanne d'Arc, Les religieuses darts l'Eglise et ¯ darts le monde actuel (Paris: Cerf, 1964); Gustave Martelet, S.J., Saintetd de l'Eglise et vie religieuse (Toulouse: Editions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). The last work mentioned, while brief, is outstanding for its depth of thought. How Was the. foundation effected? The first two chapters of St~ John's Gos.pel are extremely revealing in this respect. , This evangelist who employed the most perspective in writing an account of the life and work ¯ of Jesus and who, while supplying historical memories, reflected on their meanirig more than any otiier, places us, immediately after the hymn praising the Incarnation and after the witness of John the Baptist, before a double'image: Jesus 'sets about calling His disciples, He then accompanies them to the wedding feast of Cana where He ,operates His first miracle. Everything happens as if Christ had determined, from the begin-ning of the public life, the .two states which He wished to combine in His Church: the consecrated life, inaugu-rated by inviting the disciples to follow Him, and the mar-riage state, recognized while symbolically revealing His intention of tramforming it, of renewing it by grace. Jesus first institutes the consecrated life. He begins by requesting simple men to attach themselves com-pletely to His person. It is by the adhesion of two dis-ciples who have decided to follow Him and to share His company that the life of the Church is inaugurated. When the evangelist tells us that the first two disciples dwelled'near Jesus from that day (Jn 1:39), he advises us of the~e£act hour, "the tenth 'hour," in order to call attention to the importance of the event for-he has described the first day in the life of the Church.~ For the first time, a community of disciples is formed around the Master. We can realize the immediate relevance the e~ent assumes for the establishmentof the Church, this state of life in which one is entirely consecrated ¯ to Christ, a state to which certain souls receive a special call. The Apostles lived in this state, instituted in the number of twelve by Jesus, not simply in view of a preaching mission, but first of all to facilitate an inti-mate adherence to the Master; they are designated by Christ "to be his companions and to go out preaching at his command" (Mk 3:14). A similar concern attracts a more numerous group of disciples--and a few women who accompany Christ offering Him their existence and theii" devotion. The characteristics of this state are sufficiently clear from the Gospel without there being a question of + juridical organization as such. The central factor in ÷ "following'' Chr!s~ implies .complete submission out of ÷ regard for Him, a break with one's family, a renounce-ment of the trade practiced until then and of material Religious Life goods. It involves a community life.p01arized on Christ, "VOLUME 24, 196"5 = At least, it is the first day of the Church in process of formation; the Church will not be completely constituted Until Pentecost. 507 closer association with His redemptive work and apos-tolic mission. Fr6m these diverse aspects one can dis-cern ¯ the elements which will later constitute religious life: union 'with Christ through obedience~ chastity,. poverty, common life, and dedication to the apostolate. It is not yet a question of the religious life properly speaking, for as it was instituted by Jesus, the conse-crated life is not specified a~cording to determined forms, nor is it organized according to ;i single struc-ture. But it is inaugurated in keeping with a general principle, a" principle which will serve as a basis, in cen-turies to come, foi- various kinds of life--that of bishops and diocesan priests, that of religious and members of secular institutes, and that of various types of consecra-tion in the world. .÷ + + ~ean Galot, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 508 The Place oI the Counsels in the Complete Religious Lile The Gospels open perspectives on consecrated life, this state which Christ desired for the foundation of His Church. Scriptm:e invites us to definereligious life in terms which go beyond the three evangelical counsels: poverty, chastity, and obedience. There has been a wide-spread tendency to adopt too n~irrow a concept of religious life, making .it consist in the mere practice of the three counsels and the profession of the three corresponding vows. It i~ true that on certain occasions Jesus makes a special plea for poverty, for separation from one's family; or He .underlines the value of renouncing marriage. But these diverse elements draw their meaning from attach-ment to His person, an attachment that is immediate and exclusive. It is this tie which constitutes the central reality of the consecrated life. To consider the three "counsels" separately constitutes poor methodology and incurs a risk of arriving at a negative definition of the religious life which amounts to a refusal of the world. It is important to keep the summons: "Come follow me" foremost in mind, as it combines in a' logical synthesis the various demands of poverty, chastity, and obedience. One could object that the attachment to Christ is obviously presupposed in the vows, that this requirbment underlies the three counsels. Nevertheless, what is fundamental is enhanced by being clearly 'expressed---by Being set forth not ¯ merely as a suggestion, but in explicit ~ind concrete terms as the complete and primordial object of the commitment. Hence the religious life is not to be too exclusively r~duced to the three counsels. In keeping with evangel-ical indications and the experience of religious life itself, other features of ~he state deserve, to be emphasized in the. same degree: the total gift of self .to Christ; com-munity life; the consecration of one's entire existence to the Church and to the apostolate. ~ As a result of our attachment to Christ, we must stress the value of community life where the Master's precept of mutual charity i:ari find integr~il fulfillment. Religious life tends to translate this ideal of love into strong ties of solidarity and teamwork~ . Wholehearted commitment.to the apostolate, whether by prayer and sacrifice or through activity, also warrants being considered essential to the religious life. At times during conciliar debate, one. received the impression that the religious life was recognized and esteemed because of the personal holiness which it fosters and that insu~cient attention was paid to .the consecrated person's vigorous participation in the Church's evangelizing mission. It is fortunate that certain fathers called attention to the apos-tolic aims of religious life--not failing to recall the effec-tive witness value of these aims and the contribution of religious to missionary expansion. It is especially impor-tant to understand that the apostolic effort is not simply one of the fruits of religious life, nor the simple manifesta-tion of the sanctity which the state encourages, For re-ligious profession by its very essence entails a genuine com-mitment to the apostolate and involvement in all the activities which such a commitment implies. Thus to characterize the ;religious life in terms of the development of the interior life alone would constitute an incomplete assessment. While assuring such a de-velopment by an intimate adherence to Christ and by a regime of prayer, the religious must not be less con-cerned with the apostolic ascendancy of Christ over humanity. It is desirable that the very terms of reli-gious profession express this apostolic commitment de-liberately as well as underline a total attachment to Christ and to fraternal charity within the community. The Essential Reality of the Church Thus it is as a state characterized by preferential love of Christ, by community, and apostolic love that the consecrated life would appear to be included in the very foundation of the Church. By considering the three counsels alone, the ecclesial role of religious life is less apparent; the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience would appear only under the aspect of individual as-ceticism, or they may be considered as a simple enrich-ment of the Church rather than principles of a form of life which constitutes a necessary element of the Church herself. The Savior wanted the consecrated lives of His disciples and women followers to form the cornerstone of His Church, the very first stone. ÷ ÷ ÷ l~ligiou~ Li~v VOLUME 24, 1965 509 ÷ ÷ ÷ lean Galot, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 510 To gain insight into Christ's will, let us recall what the Church permits us to see in the depth of her being--in revelation. The basic aim of salvation's plan is to establish a :covenant between God and humanity. A new covenant, an ideal one, was announced by the prophets, particularly by Jeremiah and Ezekiel. At the Last Supper the Savior manifested His intention to found this covenant by His sacrifice and to render it forever present by the Eucharistic service. Now the covenant is fulfilled not between God and each individual but be-tween God and the community of His disciples founded by Jesus, a community destined to regroup all of hu-manity in unity. The Church was instituted as the community of the covenant. The great value which the consecrated life has for the covenant community is immediately discernible. Cove-nant signifies the union of man with God. In the consecrated life, this union is a~sured in the most im-mediate, direct ~ay. It is not an attempt to unite with God through the mediation of terrestrial goods but through a way of life in which the basic value is Christ Himself, all other treasures being renounced. Nor is the adherence accomplished through the mediation of hu-man love as in marriage. Every affection is focused upon Christ in person. Consequently, the covenant is inti-mately bound up with this, and the Church fulfills her-self in depth as she should truly be. Mankind enters the covenant founded by Jesus through human persons who attach themselves to Him directly and completely. The foregoing truth is revealed in a particularly strik-ing way by the consecration of virgins. By this means the Churcli assumes concretely and fully her identity as Bride of the Savior through the virgins who profess to live 'for Christ alone by reserving their heart entirely for Him.3 The covenant was originally announced through prophetic oracles in the form of matrimonial union, and Jesus chose to fulfill these oracles by pre-senting Himself as the Groom. According to St. Paul, the Church is His Bride; redemption itself is envisaged as the act of love par excellence, the model of conjugal love: "Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her" (Eph 5:25). The Church's act of attachment to her Spouse is manifested most integrally in the action of those souls who were regarded from the very earliest times as the brides of Christ, those who vow him a virginal love. The basic reality of the Church involved in this consecration is thus revealed in the bond uniting the Bride to the divine Spouse. s This truth is made remarkably clear by Father Martelet, Saintetd de l'Eglise, pp. 37-9; 51-3. Community charity is another element of the basic reality 0f the Church. The mutual love arising from the supernatural adherence to Christ which unites the mere- ¯ bers of the Church arose in the community of disciples who surrounded the Master, and it tends ~o develop most genuinely .and c0mplet~ly~ in religious c0~amunities-- ¯ where the Church's fulfillment is expressed in exterior actions, thereby permitting the greatest growth of inti- ¯ mate charity. And .finally it is tO be pointed out that apostolic d~namism is not superimposed on the Church from without but is a part. of her very reality, as the event of Pentecost shows. The Christian community, at the mo-ment when it was officially established as the Church by the power of the Holy Spirit, was constituted in a state of apostolic expansion. The grade received from .above transformed and sanctified the disciples causing them to radiate their testimony in the milieu where they were called to labor. Similarly, the consecrated life by chan-neling all the forces and resources of human' existence in the service of the apostolate, fulfills the Church's mis-sion in a most integral manner. If one recalls the most fundamental aspects of ihe consecrated life, one must- conclude in consequence that they are the. integral realization of the. Church in keep-ing with her fundamental marks: covenant community, imutual union, zeal of apostolic expansion in the world. In fact, one recogr~izes the marks of the Church accord-ing to the classical enumeration: holiness through union with God, unity, catholicity, and apostolicity. The com-parison indicates.the extent to which the consecrated life is a necessary constituent of the Church. The ~Religious Li[e andHierarchical Structure It is important to clarify the position of the conse-crated life in the Church. In its diverse forms (including the religious life, the most important of these), it does not enter into the hierarchical structure, the latter being concretely determined by the sacrament of order. It occupies no degree of order Within the hierarchy, nor can it be inserted between the clergy and ,the laity as an intermediary state. The question has recently been raised: Does the religious life belong to the structure of the Church?. One must respond in the negative inso-far as the.hierarchical structure is envisaged. But.there is also a spiritual structure of holiness and charity which is essential to the Church and of which the religious life is an indispensable element.4 The two structures are, ¯ It would appear'perhaps excessive ~o define with Father Martelet .($aintetd de l'Eglise, p. 102) the "hierarchical pole" as the'love of Christ for the Church and the "charismatic pole" by the Church's ÷ ÷ VOLUME 24, 1965 .4" Jean Galot, S.J. REVIEW FOR" RELIGIOUS 512 furthermore, closely related; and the religious l~fe,' as all of Christian life, submits to the direction of the hierarchy. It is' dependent on those whom Christ wished to be the shepherds of the community. Yet this dependence does not exclude a certain auton-omy in the sense that the hierarchy is destined .neith6r ¯ to create no~ to dominate.the religious life. The fact that religious institutes, have seldom been inspired or fot~nded by the hierarchy warrants reflection.5 Marked by charismatic origins, most. institutes have been founded by a layman or a priest who developed a .~ensitive aware-ness of. the Church's quest for holiness or of one of her particular and pressing needs. The founder wished to structure a kind of life that would meet this need and attract disciples in his steps in order to. perform a ~pecific work more perfectly. The religious life was ¯ thus formed "from below," from a stimulus produced by the Holy Spirit in the soul of the founders. The hierarchy's role has been to approve the society and its work and to utilize the spiritual and apostolic re-sources which religious put at its disposition for the pastoral task. The wisdom of the Church .and her leaders is to be admired for safeguarding this autonomy of religious life and for recognizing .therein an authentic action of the Holy Spirit which was to be "respected. Thus reli-gious life, within the whole of Christian life, testifies that in:keeping with God's plan divine lights andener-gie~ communicated to men are not exclusively reserved to the hierarchy, that the Spirit continues to breathe where it will--upon simple members of the Church as well as in the soul of her shepherds. The specific purpose of exemption is to permit a more "universal development of the inspiration which gives rise to religious institutes,~ As we have pointed out, exemption does not aim to withdraw religious life from the control of the hierarchy ' but rather to rehder its members more freely accessible for the service of the love for Christ, for the charismata imply Christ's love which is de-sirous of spreading throughout humanity and religious life entails a special love on the part of the Bridegroom. It is rather a question ¯ -of .two aspects of union or mutual love. One concerns the social organization of the Mystical Body and the other its spiritual life. ~ Father Martelet (Saintetd de l'Eglise, p. 96) judiciously observes that the bishops who have exerted an influence on the religio.us life have done it'less in virtue of their office than as a restilt of the spirit-. ual fashion in which they exercised it: St. Basil, St. Ambrose, St. Augustine, St. Fran(is de Sales. e It seems to us that exemption does not aim simpl~ at guaranteeing charismatic inspiration, as Father Martelet believes (Saintetd de l'Eglise, pp. 99-I00), but rather thai it assures the universality of a form of holiness and of apostolic endeavor. universal, government" of the Church, the Pope and. the college of bishops. In fact, exemption concerns only the lbcal hierarchy, the government of a particular, diocese. For religious life normally tends to assume dimensions whiqh surpass diocesan confines, it aims to promote a ffni~,ersal form of holiness which will respond to the aspirations of a .large number .of souls in the Church; it wishes to estab-lish communal charity, to. unite Christians' of several ~.r.e.gions or~countries. It seeks to develop apostolic woi:ks which cross frontiers and ~o expand, most especially into mission .areas. This .universality. which justifies exemptioh, far from robbing the Church. of religious life, renders, the latter more coextensive with the Church as a whole, making it a more integral part of the uni-versal Church. The important role played by religious in missionary expansiofi testifies that exemption has guar.anteed "a more universal evolution of the Church and rendered personnel readily accessible to the will of the sovereign pontiffs. " Religious Life and Sacramental Structure. Difficulty in determining and 'evaluating the role of re-ligious life within the Church may result from the fact that the state is not founded on asacrament. There has been a tendency to compafe the religious state ~ith the priestly or marriage states, giving preference to the latter because of their si~cramental origin. Is it possible, in fact, tO say that religious life derives from a sacrament? We must affirm that it falls within the development of baptismal effects and develops ac-. quisitions received" through baptismal, consecration. The baptized person belongs to God and shares in divine holiness. This sharing finds full expression in the reli-gious life. ' Nevertheless, religious life, which is a response to. a special call from the Lord and which has ex-tremely elevated objectives, cannot be fully explained by the effects of baptism alone. The life arises from ~charisms which surpass the life of the baptized; and it involves commitments which, while fulfilling the baptis-mal promises to the maximum, go far .beyond whai is required of other Christians. . We must, then,, recognize that the religious life as such does not result from a sacrament. It is true that the entire life of the Church is affected by the sadraments-- but there are also extrasacramental influences within the Church. Just as the hierarchical structure does not enjoy a monopoly of the Holy Spirit's inspirations, the. sacramental structure enjoys no monopoly of the sources of grace. The sacraments are not to be conceived as the only principle¯of sanctification. Experiences in the ÷ ÷ Religious Li]e VOLUME 24, 1965 gean Galot, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 514 life of the Church and in the individual lives of saints reveal the importance of extrasacramemal grates, and the .numerous divine interventions in humhn history not be limited to the. sensible signs which ,constitute .the seven sacraments. There is no inferiority implied for. the religious life in its inability to be traced to a. sacramental origin. There would be no p0intl in drawing.a comparison with the priestly state, a reality of a.different order. The priesthood regults from a sacrament because it is destined to assume liturgical and pastoral functions. within the Church. To fulfill such functions is not 'the purpose of the religious life. Let.it suffice to mention that the two states are united in the case of many religious. They cannot, consequently, be opposed. . On the other hand, the comparison of the religious and marriage states is legitimate. Why is the first a sacra-m~ nt while the latter is not? If one recalls that the Councilof Trent proclaimed the superiority of the state of virginity oyer that of marriage, it may appear sur-prising that virginal consecration is not the object of a sacramental ceremony. Yet the very reason for the superiority of virginity enables us to glimpse a response to our problem. Virginity tends to realize the nuptials of Christ and-the Church directly, while marriage is only. a sign of this union, realized through the media~ tion of the human person of the partner. Profession attaches the ~eligious to Christ Himself as .the Spouse. It is therefore through plenitude not default that pro-fession is not a sacrament~ As a sign or symbolof Christ and the Church, marriage is a sacrament; as a reality of nuptials in which Christ becomes the authentic Bridegroom, virginal consecration is not a sacrament. Profession is not of the order of a sign but that of the reality signified. It thereby anticipates the future life where there will be no sacraments because the sign.s will hax;e.given way to the spiritual reality they represen.ted. Thus while marriage symbolizes the union of Christ and the Church in view of the latter's realization through human intermediaries~ virginal life accomplishes this union directly through anticipation of the celestial life. From this viewpoint, virginal consecration can be con- .sidered paralle! to martyrdom. What is called the bap-tism of blood goes beyond the sacrament: it is no longer a sign of the death of Christ but the reality of this death as lived by the disciples of Jesus. Rather than being a symbol of the passage from death to resurrection, it accomplishes this passage to blessed immortality. Vir-ginal life, through a kind of death to the flesh, inaugu-rates the passage to the immediate possession of the Groom in spiritual intimacy. Hidden Holiness and Bearing Witness In characterizing ~he ieligious life's .essential role in the Church, there is frequently a tendency to evaluate it in terms of testimony given: as a result of their con, secration, religious are called ~ost especially ~o bear witness to Christ, to. His sanctity,.His charity, His ¯ chastity, His obedience, His' apostolic zeal. We gran.t that this witness value is of considerable importance, but it .is not primordial. Testimony a~ises from. the .visible aspect which the religious life must assume, and it manifests the .exterior influences re-sulting from this visibility. But the first contribution of religious life is invisible, fulfilling a role which can be called ontological and helping to nourish and to develop the very reality of the Church. It is the Church's hidden sanctity which is enriched by religious life,-the secret union of the Church with Christ consummated ¯ by virginal consecration. The Church's invisible apos-tolic, efficacy is increased by the prayers, sacrifices, and the other activities which the religious state entails. One must consequently avoid restricting the problems of religious life within the narrow perspective of testi-mony. It may happen that poverty in certain institutes is profound and genuine, and yet scarcely any witness value may be apparent as a result of circumstances or some particular feature of observance. The fidelity of a chaste heart is interior; numerous acts of charity and obedience in religious life are not visible to ChriStians outside the cloister, and these acts should not become public. A certain preoccupation with testimony is legiti-mate, but it should neither diminish nor obscure the more essential will to live in all sincerity the demands of the consecrated life under the eyes of the Savior alone in "order to belong more exclusively to Him. Ex-cessive concern for testimony could lead to the erection of a facade at the expense of the humble construction of the reality of the Church. Furthermore, the contribution of the consecrated life to the holiness of the Church enlightens the religious as to his ecclesial respomibility. It should quicken his conscience to the.repercussions of his mo~t secret life within the. Church; even those acts which are witnessed by no one are destined to-sanctify humanity, to enrich the Church as a whole. The existence of. a ~eligious makes, no sense except within the framework of con-structing the Mystical Body of Christ. This activity should be first of all hidden and silent. Witness value follows as the second feature of the religious' contribution, to the sanctity Of the Church. It is this visible aspect, .the aspect of the sign,, which has inclined theologians to refer to the religious life as a + + + ¯ Religious Li]e VOLUME 241 1965 515 4. 4. 4. Jean Galot, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "saci'ament." r There is no doubt that in the Church. the religious life contributes a f~ndamental.kind of witness. It is of a nature which ~timulates Christians in their efforts toward~ holiness and influences non-Christians by rendering them sensitive to the force of the evangelic.al message. This testimony is above all concerned with the abso-luteness of God. The consecrated life gives .eviden.ce that God .deserves to be loved above all things--to the point that man should 'abandon all to adhere to Him and to promote the extension of His kingdoha. It. is also a witness to prayer, especially in the con-temPlativelife, bu~ in. the active religious life as well. At a time when the value of man tends to be measured in terms of the visible efficacy of action, it is important that special attention be given to prayer. The testimony of communities established on the basis of Christ's charity encourages other Christians to place no limit on. love for one another. And there is the test!mony Of poverty, chastity, and obedience, as witness which encourages lay people in their journey on the road of detachment and unselfishness, of conjugal, chas-tity, and of submission to Church authorities. Finally, there is the witness value of apostolic' activity Which. stimulat.es .zeal throughout the entire Christian com-munity. This reaction is apparent today in many mis-sionary fields where laymen in ever-increasing numbers are following the example given by religious. The Value of Religious Life and Adaptation While attempting to establish the place of the religious state in the life of the Church, We have answered in global fashion the questions, raised in the introduc-tion to this article. We shall now summarize the im-portant points to .bring the answers sharply into focus. It is true that laymen should pursu, sainthood. We are to rejoice that the Christian layman today is in, creasingly conscious of the nobility Of his state and the demands of' perfect.ion which this role entails. In addi-tion, according to Christ's plan, a more complete form of holiness, that of the consecrated life, is necessary the Church and must develop within her. The Gospel call: "Come follow me" is ceaselessl~ repeated in all ages to attract certain of the faithful to .make a fundamental contribution to the formation and expansion of the Church. Direct union with the. Savior is irreplaceable. ' It can be achieved by the complete abandonment of goods and family, the consecration Of all one's forces ~ See J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., "Religious Life, Sacrament of God's Presence" and "Religious Life, Sacrament of God's Power," REVIEW FOR RELigiOUS, V. 23 (1964),'pp. 6-14; 420-32. and activities to the apostolate. These actions are facil-itated by community life founded exclusively on the love of Christ. Since marriage is to be considered the sign of the nuptials of Christ and the Church, all the importance which is legitimately attributed to this sign also en-hances the value of the religious life where.the nuptials with the divine Spouse become a reality. Souls who ardently search for the presence of the Savior can find Him through a human intermediary, but Christ is en-countered more dynamically through the direct adher-ence of virginal consecration. The two approaches are on a different level: the religious life anticipates here on earth that possession of Christ without an inter-mediary as it will be accorded in the celestial state. As for apostolic services, laymen can assume them on a basis of equality with religious insofar as exterior action and efficiency are concerned. But nothing can re-place that holiness in the service of the apostolate re-sulting from the consecration of one'~ entire being to the Lord. Wherever apos.tolic activity is animated by a more complete love of Christ and a more devoted love of neighbor, it acquires a superior value and its invisible apostolic efficacy ig considerably increased. If we keep in mind that the apostolate is a means of com- 'municating holiness, the role that the consecrated person is to play in the Church's apostolic life becomes imme-diately evident. His contribution cannot be considered as the mere equivalent of that of other Christians. The apos-tolate is to be judged according to its soul rather than its external works. Religious institutes are making a great effort towards adaptation. It is hoped that these efforts will pro, duce a vital thrust towards encounter with contemporary hu-manity. That such an effort may require painful sacri-fices of those religious who are imbued with traditional practices is readily conceivable, but the generosity ¯ characteristic of the religious state is capable of making sacrifices. Thanks to such a spirit we can hope that the re-ligious life will occupy that vital role within the Church and the marketplace which our Lord accorded it. 4. 4- 4. VOLUME 24, 1965 JEAN DANIELOU, S.J. The Placeof Religious in the Structure of the Church Jean Dani~lou, S.J.; 15, Rue Mon-sieur; Paris 7, France, is professor of theology at the Institut Catholique of Paris. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 518 One* might wonder why the Council in The Constitu-tion on the Church treats religious life along with the hierarchy and the laity. The reasons for this are pastoral. Religious, men and women, contemplatives or mis-sionaries, are in fact an essential component part of the Church. The eminent place which women occupy in the Church is particularly under the form of religious life. Besides, inasmuch as religious life is a total consecra-tion to God, it appears as more than ever necessary in a world which tends to construct itself outside of God, because without worship the world of the future would be an inhuman world. Finally, from the ecumenical point of view, the neglect of religious life by the Council would be incomprehensible in view of the fact that it has always held a respected place in the OrthodoxI world and that Protestantism is now rediscovering it. But these reasons would not be absolutely decisive if religious life did not constitute an essential part of the structure of the Church. Furthermore, the primary ob-ject of the Council is, as Pope Paul reminded the Fathers in opening the second session, to give the Church the opportunity to define her structure. If religious life was only one form in the history of the universal vocation to holiness in the Church, it would be acceptable to treat it as such. But this precisely appears contrary to the whole tradition. Certainly all aspects of the Church are ¯ This article appeared originally in Etudes, February, 1964; it was translated by Sister M. Janet, c.s.J.; Archangel College; Engle-wood Cliffs, New Jersey. 1 See o. Rousseau, "Le r61e important du monachisme dans l'Eglise d'Orient," in II monachesimo orientale ["Orientalia christiana ana-lecta," n. 153] (Rome: Pontifical Institute of Oriental Studies, 1958). in a sense mutually shared: there is a universal priest-hood; there is a Universal interdependence of the Christian people; there~is a universal vocation to holi-ness. But each one of these aspects also presents its es-tablished form. This is true of the hierarchy and of the laity;, we wish to show that it is also true of the relig.ious state. The first question is that of the basis of the religious state in the New Testament itself. In reality there is no ¯ divine right to the structure .of the Church except inso-far as it rises from its institution by Christ and the Apostles at least in its beginnings. How does this affect our question here? This is the problemof the evangelical counsels. We must examine it rigorously. But first we must note that we are speaking here of the evangelical counsels in the strict sense, that is to say, not insofar as they mean a universal call to Christians to an evangeli-cal life of poverty, "chastity, and obedience, but insofar as they point out the proper means to realize this call, means which establish a particular state of life to which all are not called. What is there concerning this in the New Testament? ~ It does not seem that the three counsels, as held by traditional teaching, are on the same plane. Poverty ap-pears above all as the expression of the primacy of the kingdom of God which must be preferred to all else. And this disposition is eSsential to the Christian 'voca-tion. Nevertheless, the principle of poverty as expressed in" a particular state of life is clearly indicated. Hence, the words of ChriSt to the rich young man, even if they .express first of all the primacy of the Gospel over the Law, undoubtedly suggest also that the evangelical ideal can be expressed in the form of an effective renounce-ment of the possession of material goods which consti-tutes in itself a state of life which is more perfect. "If you will be pbrfect, go, sbH all that you have and follow me" (Mt 19:21). Like pove~'ty, obedience is first of all the expression of the primacy of the divine will. It finds incomparable expression in the obedience 6f the Son to the Father; and in this sense, it is the Christian vocation itself. But this obedience can also take the form of a renouncement of self, determination related to that particular resolu-tion of the divine will which is precisely the effective renouncement of property and of marri~ige and which is not demanded of all. It is in this sense that St. Paul speaks, concerning widows, that is, women consecrated to God, about fidelity. Indeed, he blames those women who have violated "the promise they have made" (1 Tim 5:12). Obedience appears then as the very form of a life consecrated to God inasmuch as-this life ex- 4. ÷ 4- Place o~ Religious VOLUME Z4, 196S 519 .÷ ¯ .lean Dani~lou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS presses the definite promise to submit oneself to a cer-tain state of life rather than as a special observance which would be added to other states. This is then al-ready what will later become monastic obedience. And it is more obedience to a rule than to a person, the su-perior having only .the duty of being the guardian of the rule. Nevertheless, poverty and obedience as expressio.ns of a state in life are only. suggested by the New Testament. This is in contrast with virginity consecrated to God which is taught b'y Christ Himself as a mystery to which only certain souls are called. The disciples ask Jesus: "If such is the condition for marriage, it is better not to marry." And Jesus replies: "That conclusion cannot be taken in. by everybody, but only by those who have the gift" (Mt 19:10-1). Very clearly then, here is a special state which is not a component of the Christian vocation in itself. Elsewhere, it is about virginity that Paul uses the word counsel; and this is the only case where the word appears in this sense in the New Testament (1 Cor 7:25). The distinction between a commandment, which is addressed to everyone, and a counsel, which is a call from the Lord to some, is here clear. Furthei"more, the existence of virgins consecrated to God in the primitive Christian community is attested to by the New Testament. This is the case of the four daughters of the deacon Philip (Acts 21:9). The text says' precisely .that these virgins were prophesying. This description gives authority .to add another element to the matter of the New Testament origin of the religious state: virginity appears in connection with the charis-mata and so constitutes a link with the action of the Holy Spirit in the community. This fact is also attested by the Didache. Therefore, this charismatic aspect will remain a characteristic of the religious state. The fathers Of the desert and the stylites are charismatics. The great religious orders are of charismatic origin. They witness the liberty of the Spirit in the heart of the Christian community. Benedict, Fr.ancis, Dominic, Ignatius, and Teresa are. expressions of the charismatic action of the Spirit in the building of the' Church alongside her hierarchical action. The orders which they founded are the necessary institutionalization of these charismata to assure the permanence of their presence in the Church. Therefore, the New Testament attests to the existence of a state of life consecrated to God, related to the charismata, and expressing itself above all in virginity. But does this state constitute an order properly speak-ing, comparable to the laity or to the hierarchy? Theie is place for an objection here. It is evident that the New Testament includes a call to the practice of the evangel-ical counsels. But is. not this call something personal which can be addressed to clerics or to the laity and does not constitute a special order? In this case, it would be this call alone which would be primary and would have its source in the New Testament. The realization this call in the form of the religious state would only be an historical development. This question leads us to examine more closely the teaching of the New Testa-ment and of early tradition. This examination reveals to us the presence in local communities from the. beginning of: a special order, alongside the hierarchy and the laity, which is char-acterized by a total consecreation to God. In this sense, the New Testament speaks of a consecrated celiba6y, the order of widows (1 Tim 5:3-16). This order is Pa{allel to the order of presbyters (5:.17-20). Therefore it really was an order in the heart of the community. The function:of this order, from its origin, is that of the religious sta~e: "The woman who is. indeed a widow, bereft of all help, will .put her trust in God and spend ¯ her time, night and-day, Upon the prayers and petitions that belong to her state" (5:5). Later the place of the order of widows will be compared to that of an altar in the church.2 They represent that.continual prayer which is a pillar of the community parallel to the hierarchy and which still today makes up the irreplaceable char-acte~ of the contemplative life in the Church. BuL very early, the virgins 'who existed from the be-ginning 'in the community constituted also an order by virtue of their resemblance to that of the widows. Doubtless it is in this way that we must understand the word of Ignatius of Antioch, speaking of "virgins called 'widows.' " In any case, one 6f the most ancient rituals that we possess, the Apostolic Tradition of. Hippolytus of .Rome, which dates from the beginning of the third ¯ century and represents a much older state, enumerating the different orders of the Church, mentions virgins after priests and bishops, but before subdeacons and lectors,. A text of the same ritual distinguishes three categories in regard to the discipline of fasting: virgins and widows, laity, and bishops. No text is more clear on the distinction of the three orders.3 At the same period, at Alexandria, Clement and Origen give witness to the existence of an order, of virgins and of ascetics. Therefore it is certain that, in the words 6f Plus XII, "according to the apostolic fathers and the oldest ec- ~P~lyca~:p, Letters, 8, 2. 8 See J.-M. Hanssens, La liturgie d'Hippolyte ["Orientalia christi-ana analecta," n. 155] (Rome: Pontifical Institute of Oriental Studies, 1959), pp. 153 and 372. Place ot Religious VOLUME 24, 1965 52! ]ean Dani~lou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS . --- clesiastical writers, it can be easily established that in different churches,' the followers of a life of perfection constituted an order and a class in the society." 4 At first, this state of virginity" or celibacy was lived in the local church community where it constituted a special group. Beginning in the fourth century with Anthony, the ascetics separated themselves from the community and retired into solitude; hence, the ,her-mit's. life was identified with the practice of the coun-sels. Soon, others, following Pachomius and Basil, organized communities of ascetics and began the cenobiti-cal life. These two constituted, arid continue to .consti-tute in the Orient, the monastic order formally distinguished from the hierarchy and from the laity. This appears in a manner particularly clear in the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy of pseudo-Dionysius the Areop-agite at the end of the sixth century; in this' work, monastic life is treated at length as an order in the Church along with th~ hierarchy. In the West, religious life developed in multiple ways according to constitu- ¯ tions approved by the Church, but everywhere and al-ways, "the .public profession of the evangelical counsels was counted among, the three principal ecclesiastical orderL" 5 What is fundamentM is that throughout all these de-velopments the effective, practice of the evangel!cal counsels has always been presented under the form of an "order," having its own law in the Church whether it is a question of "widows" of an apostolic community or .of religious congregations today. The forms of the "ordo" have been very diverse. They continue this di-versity today, from.the orders with solemn vows to the secular institutes. But if we look at them from the theological instead of the canonical point of view, we see that these forms spring from the same source in the Church. This definition of the practice of the evangelical counsels as a rule in itself is ~xpressed by the. fact that the Church does not consider it as legitimate except when she recognizes it; evidence for this can be seen even as .far back as .Ignatius of Antioch Where he says that anyone who wishes, to practice virginity must so advise the bishop. Hence, the practice of the evangelical counsels isestablished in.a state of life which has its own rights and duties. From this, we also understand the fact that the Church has always fought the tendency to generalize the effective practice of the counsels and to consider them as essential to Christianity.Such a tendency was very strong in the first centuries in partict~lar, and * Provida Mater, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 116. B Provida Mater, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v: 39 (1947), p. 106. against it the Church has always defended marriage not only as legitimate, but also as constituting a real vocation to sanctity. In. fact, .she has always supported the ~ight to private property and to wealth. In this way, she set the foundation for an authentic.lay spirituality to be considered as develOping in line with the vocation of the laity in the Church .and not as a participation in the religious life as the only vocation to'sanctity. But at the same time, she als0 founds the religious state as a state of life in itself,-distinct from the laity and from. the priesthood not only by its function in the Church but also by its means to sanctity. Therefore, it is clear that the evangelical counsels can be partihlly lived outside the religious state since each aspect of the Church participates in some way with the others. But they are then a sort of equivalent to the religious state. In other words, the practice of the evangelical counsels is not bound to the essence of the lay state nor to that of the priesthood. On the contrary, it is bound 'to the essence of the religious state. So, it would be erroneous to speak of the vocation to the counsels as universal and to see in religious life only their principal form. This is. contrary to truth. It is the religious state which is the normal f.orm of.the practice of the counsels. Therefore, the religious state is the. proper object of a chapter on the counsels. The celibacy of priests in the Westei-n Church poses a special problem. I~ appears, in fact, to be distinct from a partial participation in the ideal of the counsels, and to be situated in a direct line with the vocation of the ¯ priesthood. Now, this vocation is defined above all as that of the pastor who gives his life for his flock. Celi-bacy appears here not considered in itself, as is the case for religious life, but as a consequence of priestly life in its fulfillment. That is why it is essentially in the study of the priesthood and its duties that celibacy is to be situated, not in the study of ~he effective practice of the evangelical counsels. The priestly celibacy would other-wise appear as an imperfect participation in something which religious practice more perfectly. To this point we have established that the origins of the religious state were instituted by Christ Himself and that the effective practice of the: evangelical coun-sels did indeed constitute a way.of life,, an "ordo," .dis-tinct from the laity and from the priesthood. It remains to show in what sense it is part of the structure of the Church. This is already apparent, in the facts. For Hippolytus of Rome, the order of virgins was part of the structure of the local Christian community. And this form of consecrated virginity may very well be re- + ÷ Place o] R~ligious " VOLUME 24~ 1965 523 4. .4. 4. lean Daniilou, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 524 .appearing in our day, as in'the case for the "Auxiliaires de l'apostolat." The religious state is recognized by canon law ag one of the three orderswhich make up the universal Church.° The experience of bishops attests that where monastic life does not yet exist, the Church has not established-firm roots. Then, too, it is char-acteristic of a living Church to bring forth vocation~ to a life of the counsels. On the other hand, it is clear that religiou~ life does not belong to the structure of the Church in the same way as the h!erarchy, although it is essential to that structure. First, it can be said that the religious state is not part of what is, strictly speaking, the condition re-quired for th~ existence of a Church. A Church cannot exist without priests who distribute the sacraments and the word of God nor without people to receive them. But the hierarchy and the Christian people are the minimal conditions. If we envisage the Church in her fullness, in her integrity, to quote Monsignor Weber, then it is necessarily composed of lives consecrated to God. These lattei; are the sign of the very flowering of the community. As long as they remain unborn, the community is not fully complete. And now we take up the characteristic of the aspect of the structure of the Church which corresponds to the religious state. It is concerned with the purpose of the Church which is holiness, as Plus XII wrote in the con-stitution Provida Mater.~ This purpose evidently con-cerns all Christians. But, it implies a communal expres- Sion which will manifest itself not only individually but also in the very structure of the Church. This purpose, which is perfect union with Christ and which will not be consummated until our life in heaven, is already visibly signified in religious life. That is why thb liturgical consecration of virgins symbolized, from the times of the first Christian community, the nuptials of Christ and the Church: ,lust as the hierarchy is the or-gan by which the life of the risen Christ is communi-cated through the sacraments--and withou't which this life would not be commhnicated--and just as the sacra-ments create a milieu of grace vhere holiness is possible, just so, the religious state is the expression of the perfec-tion ofthis holiness by creating conditions which favor the flowering of the gcaces given by the sacraments. But the purpose of the Church is not only the sancti-fication of Christians but the glory of God. Here again, the religious state, especiall~ under the monastic and contemplative form but also under the apostolic form,. ~ See also Provida Mater. Acta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. !16. r Provida Mater, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 115. is the expression, at once communal and personal, of this end of the Church. Through the Divine Office, it perpetually represents the praying Church before the Trinity. It thus app.ears as a necessary function of the whole Body. "The Church," said Berdyaev, "cannot exist' without bishops and priests,~.bfit.she lives'and breathes through the martyrs and the ascetics." The Council is founded on the prayer of the Carmelites as much as on the authority of the bishops. This function of adora-tion appears even more vital for the Church and for the entire humanity as the world today separates itself from God and tends to smother itself in introversion. The function of monasteries as places of recollection is even more necessary for lay people as they are more involved in the world. Finally, another function of religious life is its eschatalogical significance. It appears as a foretaste of the life of glory that lies beyond our terrestrial tasks. In this sense it constitutes a reminder to men, engaged in earthly cares, of their real end. By detachment from riches, from pleasures, and from ambitions, it shows that worldly goods are not reality; it turns our gaze to-ward heavenly goods. Here again, the intensity of the religious life will determine its effectiveness as a coun-terbalance to worldly attractions. In ce}tain epochs, its attractiveness was such that it magnetized even the most powerful energies. It represents an advance guard of the Church which the laity needs to maintain the difficult balance between a life absorbed by the tasks through which they sanctify themselves but which at the same time are a heavy burden on them. Having said this, we have defined the religious state in itself, but it remains irue that the religious state is no more separated from the tasks of the Church. than the priestly state or the lay state. In this sense r~ligious par-ticipate in numerous cases in the priesthood and in the episcopacy and hence are introduced into the hie~'- archical ministery; furthermore, women religious carry a large part of the responsibility for building up the universal Church in their work of the apos.tolate, espe-cially to women. It is impossible to define limits in an absolutely rigorous way. But this is why it is first of all necessary to distinguish definitively the "states." It is in the measure that the religious state is first of all recog-nized in its nature, its function, and its own mission, that its participation in the communal life of the Church will be manifested more easily. 4- Place ot Religious VOLUME 24, 1965 SISTER HELEN JAMES JOHN, S.N.D. Rahner on Roles in the Church + 4. Sister Hden James John, S.N.D., is stationed at Trin-ity College; Wash. ington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Recent discussion on all sides points toward a general redistribution of responsibilities in the life of the Church. Laymen are taking on tasks previously re-served to the clergy, as theologians, missionaries, leaders in Catholic Action; they are increasingly consulted in matters of Church teaching and government. Women are less and less silent in the Church as the days go by; they have gained admiss, ion~ to the ~anks of the theolo-gians, petitioned for their own representatives at the Council, even attracted serious theological attention to the question of giving them holy orders. The Council itself has given greater dimensions to the office of bishop and may well authorize a married diaconate in some parts of the world, and in the Western Church we have seen a few real instances and heard a vast amount of discussion of married priests. In the United States the active orders of women have long been running their own aggiornamento through the Sister Formation Movement and the Association of Major Superiors, and of late they have been exhorted by Cardinal Suenens to realize more fully their position as "auxiliaries of the clergy" and called on by Michael Novak to enter the mainstream of secular life. When sweeping changes are to be made, it is pecu-liarly important that the people making them should understand the.meaning and purpose of the institutions to be changed. In the matter of roles in the Church it has long been customary to appeal too the definitions of canon law; this will no longer suffice, for the ongoing discussion looks precisely to effecting changes in that law. What we need now is a theological perspective; and this is precisely what Karl Rahner has to offer. From his numerous, often technical, essays and conferences, we can assemble the main lines of a coherent and illumi-nating theology of vocations. This doctrine will not pro- vide cut and dried solutions ' to our current problems; Rahner endears himself to our own generation by his willingness to raise questions to which the answers are not indexed in Denzinger. But he can help us mightily to see just what is at stake in the decisions which must be made. Rahner's key principle iia this area is universal and unequivocal: "Through sacramental consecration and empowerment every Christian, in the Church is consti-tuted, qualified, and in duty bound to a position and task of active co~esponsibility and work inside and out-side theChurch." l~His further explorations into the meaning of the layman's situation, the official hier-archical apostolate of the clergy, and the eschatological witness proper to the religious are all to be understood as explications of this central theme. Layman, cleric, and religious alike are active members of the Church, called ¯ to take their special parts in the Church's.own task-- to make manifest in .the world the victorious coming of God's grace from on high. All the functions of all Christians are encompassed in the unique function of the Church herself which is to .be "the body of Christ, the enduring, .historical presence of His truth and grace in the world, the continuing efficacy of the incarnate Word in the flesh." What distinguishes the layman from the cleric or the religig.us is that he keeps, as his permanent life-situation, the place in the world which is his independently of and prior to his membership in the Church. This place in the wo~rld is determined by the individual's historical situation, his nation and,family, his natural abilities and interests. What constitutes him as a layman is the fact that he retains this place in the world for his Christian existence. By baptism, the layman is commissioned to bear witness; precisely in this place, "to .the truth, of God, to God's fidelity, and to the hope of eternal life." This means that the life-task of the layman cannot be conceived in terms merely of organized religion--Holy Name Sunday, fund-raising, and the like. It must be seen as the revolutionary realization that he is called to manifest the truth and the love of Christ in all the dimensions of his life--in his family, his profession, his participation in the political and cultural life of his community. His pla~e in the world provides the material for his Christian existence and lays upon him a respon, ~ibility which no one can assume in his stead. The special mission of the layman, then, will be found not in Catholic Action but in the action of Catholics; his fundamental obligations come to him not "from 1 Nature and Grace, trans. Dinah Wharton (London: Sheed and Ward, 19~3), p. 87. Italics Rahner's. ÷ ÷ ÷ Roles in the ¯ Church VOLUME 24, 1965 527. 4. 4. Sister Helen .lames $ohn, $.N.D. REVIEW FOR REIAG~OUS above," from the hierarchy, but "from below," from the requirements of his being in the world. The widening horizons of human experience--the secular sciences/the arts, technology, political life--are today calling for a ¯ radically new kind of Christian response. For ih a completely new historical sense, the "world" has, really only now, begun to exist, i.e. the world which man him-self has brought forth out of n~iture; ultimately, this world can be christianized only by the one who has fashioned it, viz. the layman.' This Christianizing of the temporal constitutes the "lay apostolate" in Rahner's strict sense of the term--a mission in the life of the Church for which the layman. possesses real autonomy and the strict duty of leader-ship. And it follows from this definition that the lay apostolate cannot be organized from above by a kind of ecclesiastical "state socialism." There are, and there should be, associations of lay Catholics by which they seek to aid each Other in the accomplishment of their mission; but the nature of the task itself rules out the possibility of its being mapped out in detail on an a priori basis. Hence there, is need for whav Rahner terms "a supernatural existential ethics," which recognizes not only the validity of abstract moral principles but also the direct claim of God upon the unique personal re-sponse of the Christian in his concrete situation. Among the practical consequences which Rahner draws from this view of the layman's vocation, two perhaps 'are of special interest and relevance. The first is posi-tive: There .is need for full recognition of the autonomy of the layman in those areas where his proper mission lies. To use Rahner's own example: Conscientious laymen who are editors of magazines should not have to ~sk themselves, as apprehensively as is sometimes the ¯ case, whether the opinions expressed in their periodicals are are agreeable to those in high places or not? Negatively, the limit of the layman's proper mission is set by his being-in-the-world. The work of th~ lay aposto-late is not, essentially, the work of recruiting, convert-ing, warning, or exhorting (which work is characteristic of the official hierarchical mission), but the dynamic witness of his own Christian life. The formation for this apostolate thus consis~s not in the kind of drilling geared to train aggressive militants of a basically "Salva-tion Army" type, but education for the vital interior Christianity which alone can express itself in the witness of an authentically lived Christian life. ~ Theological Investigations, v. 2, trans. Karl H. Kruger (Balti-more: Helicon, 1964), p. 349. ~ Theological Investigations, v. 2, p. 351. ¯ In contrast to the layman, the "cleric" is one whose basic and permanent life-task lies in the hierarchical ministry of the Church, that ministry which represems, in and for the Church, "Christ's po.sition as Lord in relation to the people of the Church." The. cl~ri~ shares in the mission and the power to form Christians' and to maintain and strengthen the Christian community. For the sake of this mission,' the "official" apostle must be sent out. He is called to give up his original place in the world, to leave:his nets and house and lands; .for his apostolic mission claims his whole existence. He 'is sent to spaces and dimensions of human existence which are not naturally his own; and to these he brings his mes-sage not simply as bearer of his own Christianity, but as the messenger of .Christ who must deliver his message not only in ~eason but also and especially out of season. This concept of the official hierarchical ministry, it should be noted, is considerably wider than that which limits it to men in holy orders. Edward Schillebeeckx, O.P., for. example, regards deacons, priests, and bishops as the only partic!pants in the hierarchical ministry. In Rahner's analysis, ho.wever, this ministry involves the exercise of two distinct types of power: the sacramental, "priestly" powers communicated by ordination and the ¯ "prophetic" power~ of ruling and teaching in the Church. In the divinely instituted office of bishop, the two ai'e inseparable; the bishop is at once high :priest and successor to the "Apostles. Yet in other instances, Rahner maintains, these powers can be separated and subdivided. The test case which he uses '~o clarify this point is that in which a layman should be elected pope: possessing by his election the plenitude of the power of jurisdiction, he could hardly be said to remain a lay-man while awaiting ordinationt The practical consequence of this theoretical position is that all who actually share either in the power of orders or in the mandate of ruling and.teaching are to be considered as ~'clerics." The official ministry is not then limited to priests. Catechists, missiona.ries, and theologians, women as well as men, married people as well as celibates, receive with their apostolic mission a new status within the Church. Certain limitations On the pow0:s which a woman may exercise arise from the fact that in the higher offices (that is, the episcopate) the powers of orders and of jurisdiction are noimally joined. And Rahner sees the restriction of holy orders to men as a matter of divine institution.4 On the other hand, the celibacy of priests in the Western Church is to be understood as the taking over of an essential ~ See Theological Investigations, v. 2, p. 321. However, lately there have been rumors that Father Rahner has changed his mind. Roles in the Church VOLUME.24; 1965 529 4. 4. 4. Sister Helen ]ames John, S2V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS aspect of the religious life rather than as a quality of the priesthood as such. This view of the hierarchical apostolate looks toward an increasingly clear and officially constituted .diversity of ministries among the. "clergy," for the accomplish-ment of tasks which lie beyond the ~cope. of the lay apostolate as defined above. The rule which Rahner introduces here is simple but often overlooked: "If someone is entrusted with a task, he should be allowed to fulfill it" (Rahner's italics). And he goes on to. ex-press the hope that as efforts are made to act upon this ¯ rule, we shall see the gradual disappearance of the in-stinctive tendency of priests to lord it over their non-ordained colleagues in apostolic work. As this occurs ¯ and as areas of responsibility become more clearly de-fined, it should become less difficult to recruit mature and qualified Christians for professional engagement in Catholic Action "and other ecclesiastical endeavors. Nor does Rahner limit this suggestion to the filling, of gaps in the lower echelons arising out of the shortage of priests. He would like to see people today who would play the same role in the Church as ,did, iri their time, Tertullian, Origen, Clement of Alexandria, and 'Cathe-rine of Sienal" As the layman's task is to bear witness to Christ pre-cisely in and through the ,activities of hissecular life by the loving and faithful ac.complishment of duties which have their .own natural significance, so the spe-cial calling of the religious is t6 make manifest .in his life the transcendent and eschatological dimensions of divine grace. The kingdom of God has already come in Christ; and the center of Christian life, even while we await. His coming in glory; has been set beyond this world. Thus, to be true 'to her own essence, the Church must present herself as having here no abiding city~ as awaiting the x;eturn of her Lord. This aspect of the Church comes to realization, as it were sacramentally, in communities of religious. Religious Orders are a social expression of the charismatic and'enthusiastic element in the Church. a representational part of the victorious grace of God that has come into the world, which draws man beyond the field of his own possibilities and incorporates him into the life of God himself? Since the eschatol6gical dimension, of Christianity consists precisely in the fact that the Christian's life is centered beyond the realm of natural values and mean. ings, the realm directly accessible to human experience, it cannot manifest itself in natural morM activity. For such activity expresses the natural perfection of man's own being; thou.gh this .may be .inwardly divinized by "The Motives of Poverty," Sponsa Regi,~, v. 33 (1962), p. 349. grace, itcannot of itself show forth, outwardly the transcendent love by which it is informed. The only possible human manifestation of this aspect of grace is found in the renunciation of positive and .lofty natural values ."for the sake of the Kingdom." It is' of the es-sence of the evangelical cduns~ls that th6y cannot be .justified within the framework of a natural morality;. tO sacrifice, the possession of m~terial goods, the noble . joy of marriage, and One's own personal autonomy Would be sheer madness if the meaning of man's life were to be realized within this world. The special .role of the re-ligious in the Church. is thus, in the famous words of Cardinal Suhard, "to be a living mystery, to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not exist." By religious profession, then, a Christian does not add a properly new vocation to the common, vocation which all receive in baptism. Rather, he binds himself by vow to live out, even externally, at all the levels of his life and in its total meaning, that entrance into the redeem-ing death of Christ which is begun for every Christian in baptism and which is at last achieved by God's grace in his death in Christ. The religious wills to express outwardly in the concrete circumstances of his life his inward assent to the constant prayer of the first Christians: "Let grace'come and let this world pass awayl" Accordingly,. he makes his desire to die with Christ, to become a fool for Christ's sake, the central factor in the existential shaping of his life. The vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience derive their total meaning from the invitation of Christ to come follow Him; they are rooted and grounded in His proclama-tion of the kingdom. In consequence, Rahner has little use for all those considerations, beloved of spiritual writers, which would recommend the counsels, to us as the avoidance of dangers to the practice of virtue or as the "heroic" moral achievement of something more perfect simply because more difficult. The only justification for the religious life lies in its concrete expression of the act of faith in the coming of God's grace from on high. Thus, religious poverty is meaningful only insofar as it fosters a radical readiness for the kingdom of God. By selling his goods and giving the proceeds to the poor, the Christian expresses his belief in the kingdom which unites all men in brotherhood and love; he gives visible testimony to his recognition that God's grac~ is the only ultimate fulfillment of human life. The same essential motive and meaning lies at the heart of consecrated virginity. Rahner rejects without hesitation any proposal to regard virginity in itself as a 4- + Roles in the Church VOLUME 24, 1965 53! 4" 4. 4. Sister Helen ]ames John, S.N.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS self-evident ideal. The vow of chastity has its source in sacred history, in the virginity of the Mother of God, of whom he.writes: Her virginity, and the origin of our Lord without an earthly father, signify one and the same thing, not in.words, but in easil~ unddrstood terms of human life: God is the God of freely bestowed grace, who cannot be drawn down from on high by all.our endeavors, whom we can only receive as the inexpressibly freely given gift of himself.6 The celibacy of the religious is m~ant to give existential expression to an inner altitude of expectation, of recep-tivity, of awaren(ss that Ultimately only God's free.ly given grace is important. Likewise, in this context, religious, obedience is by no means a canonization of the natural virtue in the ab-stract as the simple willingness to execute the will of.an-other. Nor does it in a0y way relieve the subject of responsibility for what he does; an act is no less the sub-ject's own for hav!ng been comrfianded. Rather, the vow of obedience relates to the totality of the life of the counsels; by it a man accepts a permanbnt life-form giving him a Godward orientation. What is at stake here. is not simply thb readiness to carry out particular com- .mands but the free decision to embrace a life that is not primarily concerned with the tangible realiza-tion of worldly objectives, but which through faith makes the expectation, of hidden grace the ground of existence, and trans, lates this faith into act. The man who accepts obedience as the authentic out-ward expression of his faith in Christ makes of his whole life a practical anticipation of the situation in which every Christian faces death-~the command of God to move on and to leave all, to allow ourselves in faith to be ab-. sorbed in the great silence of God, no longer to resist the all-embracing nameless destiny which rules over'us.7 Thus the whole life of the religious is meant to be a visible participation iia the death of Christ. Just as no one can replace the layman in his task of manifesting the presence of God's grace in the various spheres of secular life, so no one can replace the religious in his witness to the world-transcending character of that grace. Thus Rahner is clear in his opposition.to any practical proposal which would abandon the e~chato-logical witness of the vows for the sake of greatex~ effi-ciency even in apostolic tasks. The lived manifestation of transcendent grace is no less essential to the life of the Church than is the preaching of the Gospel; nor 6Mary, Mother of the Lord (New York: Herder and Herder, 1963), p. 69. 7 "Reflections on Obedient:e," Cross Currents, v. 10 (1960), p. 374. may we assume that all tasks which must be accom-plished by the Church ought ipso facto to be accom-plished by religious communities. On the other hand, the celibacy even of diocesan priests in the West and the apostolic work actually done by religious communities do manifest an inner'connection, though not a neces-sary connection, between the religious and the clerical vocations. In the Ignatian spirituality common to so many active congregations of men and women today, the ideals of "indifference" and of "seeking God in all things" are firmly rooted in the ground of the monastic tradition. Far from evading the folly of the cross, these ideals give radical recognition to God's transcendence by requiring from the religious a readiness to follow the call of God's will wherever it may lead, to have in grim practice no abiding city--not even in the. stability of the monastery. The specific details of the life of religious-- like the life of all Christians--will be shaped by the demands of individual or communal vocation; but they will fail in their dominant purpose if they do not make visible and convincing a rugged and radical Christian nonconformity to the standards of this world. It hardly need be pointed out that the line between these vocations are fluid and that each represents by its special witness factors which are essential in every Christian life. Thus every Christian must," in some measure, lead a life both of humanly meaningful ac-tivity and of supernaturally motivated renunciation; laymen may be entrusted, temporarily or on a part-time basis, with properly clerical tasks, such as those of the CCD instructor or of the subdeacon at a high Mass. The celibate priests of the West and the active congre-gations of men and women (most of whom, under Rahner's definitions, would seem to qualify as "clerks regular") unite in their lives in permanent fashion the apostolic mission of the cleric and the eschatological witness of the religious. In a host of situations, layman, cleric, and religious are called to collaborate in the achievement of the same end--that is, the total educa-tion of Catholic youth or the solution of social problems. And by the unity of laity, clergy, and religious, not only in the sacramental unity of worship but in their visible collaboration in the life of the Church, the Church achieves even at the levels of everyday moral and social existence a quasi-sacramental showing-forth ofthe inner meaning of all Christian life--divine love, ever filling the whole world and ever pointing beyond it to the world to come. Roles in the Church VOLUME 24, 1965 533 KEVIN D. O'ROURKE, O.P, Revising Canon Law for Religious Father Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P., is Dean of Theology at the Aquinas In-stitute of Theology; St. Rose Priory; Du-buque, Iowa 52002. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 534 What* policies and principles should govern the forthcoming revision of the canon law for religious? What changes must be made in the law to enable religious to better accomplish their role in the work of renewal within the Church? Changes in law should be made only for the betterment of the common good, and they should flow from principles which are invoked to correct weaknesses or problems in organization or activity which are harming the efforts directed toward the com-mon good. An honest appraisal of the present day struc-ture of religious communities, of their apostolic efforts, and of the attitude many religious have toward law, re-veals problems and attitudes which seriously endanger the efforts religious are making to sanctify themselves, the Church, and its people. By openly recognizing and ac-knowledging these attitudes and problems, the principles which will correct and solve them may be found; and these are the principles which should govern the revi-sion of the canon law for religious. ~ Even the casual observer realizes that one grave prob-lem in religious communities is a lack of respect for the law. Canon law, and the canon law for religious in particular, has fallen into ill repute. In the period since World War lI, a spirit has :arisen which seeks to belittle Church law. By many, canon law is equated with "mere 1.egalism"; and a dichotomy between the law of the Spirit and the written law of the Church is often proclaimed or intimated. To a great extent, this attitude flows from, or at least coincides with, a general spirit of disrespect toward all authority. But on the other hand, there seems to be a definite shortcoming in the canon law itself which may occasion and promote this attitude. ¯ This is the text of a talk given to a group of midwest religious canonists at a two-day conference held at the Passionist Retreat House in Detroit,' Michigan during Christmas week, 1964. Adaptation of religious communities to present-day mentalities and needs of the apostolate is another serious problem calling for revision of the law for religious. One doubting that the organization and apostolate of religious communities are attuned to successful modern apostolic activity, need only consult the writings of the last four popes. Time and time again, they have called for adaptation of the-structure, mentality, and apostolic activities in line with the needs of contemporary so- Ciety and with the mind of the founder.Just as the Church, through Vatican .Council II, seeks to evaluate and update its o~ganization and activity, so religious communities should bring about themodifications which will enable them to do their work well in the contempo-rary world. With the Church, religious.communities are in need of apostolic renewal. The modifications in organization and apostolic ac-tivity which, religious communities .must make can be ~uccessfully accomplished only through a revision in the law. True, a 9hange in attitude has already occurred in many religious and many religious communities. Some individuals and some religious groups have al-ready made. the adaptations which renewal demands. But the common good, the good of all communities and all individuals, can be assured only through a change in the law. Therefore, religious communities will not be truly renewed, nor will they fulfill their potential in the Church, until their laws are renewed in accord with the needs of the apostolate. A consideration of.the cultural .pattern presently ex-isting in the United States reveals another distressing situation. Religious are not influencing the minds of men as strongly and dramatically as they should. In former times, religious were. among the intellectual leaders of. their society. Often they were the best edu-cated people in the community; even if their thought was rejected, it was at least well known. Those who did not agree with them were aware of them; and before acting contrary to the opinion of the ~eligious thinkers they had to attack and, .if possible, refute their opinion. Hence many and bitter arguments and disputes arose between secular and religious figures. Today, however, our teaching.draws no such attacks; it can be ignored as the doctrine of people who are not in touch with the times. SecuIar thinkers.n0 longer bother to refute the thought 0f religious thinkers; they merely declare it ir-relevant to the important matters of life.~ The point is not to deprecate or criticize in any way the energy, zeal, or apostolic spirit of" the many dedicated religious 1 Hence the theme of Dietrich von Bonhoeffer in Letters From Prison and of John A. T. Robinson. in Honest to God. 4. + Rcoising Canon VOLUME 24i 1965 ÷ ÷ Keoin D. O' Rourke, O~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS men and women working in America today. But on the other hand, if we reflect that there are about two hun-dr~ d thousand religious men and women working for Christ in the United States, it'hardl~ seems that we are influencing the Catholic and non-Catholic community as'we should. We seem to be able to preserve the faith, but we are weak when it comes to enriching it or spread-ing it. In order to solve these briefly outlined problems which tend to destroy the vitality of religious communities and seriously hamper their apostolate, three principles must govern the revision of canon law for religious. Integration with Theology The first principle i~: Remove the de facto separation between canon law and theology. Competent theologians and canon lawyers, while allowing canon law its own rules of interpretation, always. recognized that canon law is an integral part of theology and, as such, subject to the more general principles of that science. In other words, competent Scholars have never forgotten the need for integration between these two sciences. Nonetheless, even these scholars have not insisted a!way~ upon this integration in practice, nor have they sufficiently im-pressed it upon others. Reintegrating canon law with theology does not mean ~hat we should change our present formof Church law or the rules of interpreation. Stating the finis legis in the law, or changing the brief manner in which it is now stated, would be a mistake. Our system of writing and interpreting laws has been worked out through trial and .error over th~ centuries; to tamper with it now would cause confusion and lead to further disrespect for the law. The reintegration of canon law and theology should be accomplished through a process of education. Pre-ceding the Code there should be a statement explaining canon law not as a burden but as an instruction given. us by the Mystical Body of Christ to lead us closer to our divine Savior. Our law should be explained as a fulfill-ment, rather than a limitation, of Christian liberty. In the Code itself, especially in the section De religiosis, there should be some kind of statement that canon law legislates only the minimum, the safeguards of Christian activity. A statement such as the following from Hiiring, for example, might serve to make clear in what sense observance of canon law fits the total Christian life. As lbve implies obedience, so it implies l~(w, and love and law are essentially and mutually interchangeable. Obedience of love is surely more comprehensive than mere legal obedience for" mere observance of law is the lowest degree of obedience. Mere legal obedience.is not yet in the shadow of love. External laws are no more than universal regulations and therefore basically only minimum requirements. Universal rules cannot in fact even prescribe what is highest and best, since the best is not universal and cannot be demanded of men universally. On the contrary love by its very nature strives for the highest and best and seeks the most perfect manifestation of its ideals in action. How can one who does not fulfill the minimum requirements of law progresstoward that which is higher and better? Since the minimum requirements ar~ basic for the fulfillment of the law of love, love may never violate or ignore the law. At the same time one who truly loves may not remain'at the lowest level of obedience and be satisfied with the bare legal minimum.' Moreover,' whenever fitting,' tracts of canon law should be introduced by theological texts, whether Biblical, systematic, or pastoral, . which clearly point out the inti-mate relationship between the observance of some par-ticular law and growth in the spiritual life. To maintain that the Code of Canon Law is directed to the salvation of souls when it seldom mentions spiritual motives or values is rather inconsistent. Just as the Fifth Book of the Code of Canon Law is more clearly understood within a spiritual framework by reason of the pastoral imroduction from the Council of Trent, so other tracts of the Code could be given greater definition and .pur-pose through Similar introductions. The encyclicals, the councils, the works of the Fathers and great' theologians, provide ample sources for these texts; and using them in the Code would demonstrate the historical .continuity of our present-day law. Placing these readings before the various tracts on law may not appeal to the legal mind, and there is little reason why it should. But we must realize that canon law cannot be judged only by legal standards alone; canon law is also pastoral theology, and therefore it must be presented in a way which makes it good theology as well as good law. . Through this approach, basically one .of education, many canonical instruments could be restored to proper perspective. The relationship of superior to subject, one that should be founded upon the relationship of Christ and Hi~ friends, would become clearer; the tensions between Secular and re.ligious clergy could be resolved in favor of a more effective apostolate; the observance of the vows would be more meaningful and make a much greater contribution to charity; the place of prayer ond the apostolate in the life of the individual religious could be more clearly understood and effec-tively realized; and many other p~oblems of policy and practice which trouble re.ligious communities today would at least be alleviated. ~ Bernard Hiiring, C.Ss.R., The Law of Christ (Westminster: New-man, 1961), w 2, p. 94. ÷ ÷ ÷ Revising ~,anon VOLUME 24, 1965 537 K~in D. O'Rourk~, O.P. REVIEW FOR RE£1GIOUS. 5~8 ¯ :$ubsidiarity. The second, principle might be stated as .follows: Apply the principle o[ subsidiarity to the government of religious communities. This principle requires, posi-tively, that the society which is the Church offer to the individual the help toward his goal which he Cannot provide for .himself, and negatively, that the Church so far as it is a society restrict itshelp and control in the areas where the individual carl provide for himself (W. Bertrams, S.J., "De pringipio subsidiaritatis in. iure canonico," Periodica, 46.[1957], p. 13). Abraham Lin-coln put the same thought this way: "Never let govetn-ment do for some one what he can do for himself"; and Pope John XXIII put this forward as one of the basic principles of good government (Pacem in Terris, n. 141). Clearly, insofar, as the Church is a governing body, this principle 'should be paramount, Religious communities, therefore, since they are legal .individuals, should be allowed'to direct and provide for themselves, insofar as is possible. Application of this principle does not mean that re-ligious communities should be completely auton6mous. There must b~ some contact and control exercised by the Holy See, especially over those communities that are directly subject to it, or else the common good would suffer. But the extent to which this control is now exer-cised far exceeds, the needs of good and responsible government. Consider, for example, the regulations in regard to alienation' and debts, the extent of the Quin-quennial Report and other regulations which through the O years have tended to centralize the governnient of religious in the Congregation of Religious. The concept of collegiality and the formation of na-tional episcopal conferences.are a reflection of the prin-ciple of subsidiarity and the fact that the Church is beginning to recognize the contribution of this principle toward good government. Applying this principle to the government of religious communities would pave the way for a national conference of religious .superiors which would have jurisdiction to coordinate and direct the apostolate of religious in accord with the general directives of the Holy See. Through a conference of religious superiors possessing jurisdiction, religious could be represented .in the national episcopal confer-ence; common pr6jects, such as testing and formation centers for candidates could be established; norms for combining existing theological, schools could, be out-lined; and the'rivalry and lack of contact which at present exists among religious communities to the detri-ment of the apostolate could be removed or at least alleviated, Even more important is the applicati~)n of this prin-ciple at the provincial level: In too many communities, especially in communities of religious women, there is a centralization of power in the provincial superior. In these communities, local superiors are not~ allowed to grant dispensations from the constitutions even for good reasons; and all appointments and permissions, even the more insignificant ones, are made by the .provincial su-periors. Local superiors, often mature people who would govern well, .are restricted to doing nothing that is "not in the book." Examples of the lack of subsidiarity are too well known to need repetition. Perhaps in times past there might have been some justification for such a con-centration of power; all. religious were not educated, and imprudent permissions might have resulted if too much power had been given ~o local superiors. But to-day, the religious vocation demands a degree of ma-turity in each individual; this maturity can be fostered 'and will. flourish only if subsidiarity is expressed in the general and particular laws for religious. Professional Competence The third principle is:. The active religious in the modern wo~ld must be a competent professional. This principle is perhaps the most important and far reach-lng of the three. Implicit in this principle is the need for a new mentalit~ insofar as the apostolic life of re-ligious is concerned. Moreover, realizing this principle requires that the formation o~ religious for the aposto- !ate be so ordered that greater stress is placed upon maturity than upon conformity. In the .past, profes-sional competence and the corresponding professional mode of organization which must be pre~ent to.produce professional competence were not so important because the society in which the Church existed and even flourished was not dominated by professionally compe-tent people. But now it is; the people who control ideas, the people with whom religious must compete for men's minds, are professionally competent and work in an atmosphere where the professional mode of organiza-tion dominates. Unless the Church integrates profes-sional competence into the total concept of the religious life, there will be no true adaptation of religious com-munities to meet the apostolic challenge of our times. Stressing the need for professional competence does not mean that religious should be judged solely by the technical exceUence with which they teach or. carry out. ¯ the apostolate. We all know that God accomplishes more through the virtuous than through those who are merely technically competent. No~ does it mean that all. re- Revising Canon. + ÷ ÷ Kevin ' D . O' Rour lw, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 ligious must have die ability-to do their professional work as well as their non-Catholic counterpart. But stressing professional competence does mean that we must adapt ~ new mentality, a mentality which will allow those who are able to. do so to excel as professionMs in their apostolic activities and thus have a much greater influence upon the minds of men.3 The mentality of professional competence is con-trasted to the present apostolic mentality of religious organizations by Joseph Fichter, S.J., in the following mann'er:4 Organization involves: 1. centralized leader-ship, 2. emphasis on procedure, 3. simp.lification of tasks, 4. little initiative, 5. corporate r.esponsibility, 6. imper-sonal relations, 7. ascribed status, 8. service to the system. The professional mode of organization, on the other hand, requires: I. leadership of expertness, 2. variabil-ity of proceduresl 3. totality of tasks~ 4. broad initiative, 5. personal responsibility, 6. close colleague relations, 7. achieved status, 8. service to the client (Religion as an Occupation; Notre Dame Press, 1961, p. 224). In other words, if someone becomes a competent professional in an apostolic religious community in America today; he or she does it in spite of the system not through and because of it. The apostolic spirit of the religious group. centers more .upon conformity than upon initiative. For this reason we have remained upon the fringe of those who influence society; at times one of our members may move into the influence group, that group of profes-sionals who are respected for their ability and wisdom; but we must all admit that this is not the ordinary case. What part of changing the apostolic mentality of re-lig! ous could canon law play? Changing a mentality, it seems, is accomplished only through non-legal means, for 'example, through an enthusiastic movement. Yet, any change in attitude or mentality, if it is to make a stable and lasting contribution to the common good, must be incorporated into the law. Enthusiasm may sur-vive and contribute to the common good for one genera-tion or two, but only through the law can we perma- 8 Notice ihat the need for a mentality of professional competence is confined to the apostolic effort of the community. The bureau-cratic mentality, or the stress.upon conformity, is necessary insofar as the common life is coficerned or else chaos would result in the ~ommunity. There will always be, therefore, a tension between con-formity and initiative in the life of an active religious, but it seems that in our time, the tendency to conformity has overcome initiative ¯ and hence apostolic life is severely hampered. ~Father Fichter states ihat the re.ligious mode of organization resembles thd bureaucratic, but in using this word he does not in-tend to convey the pejorative overtones that this word implies. Bu-reaucratic organization is necessary and good for some societies ~nd their activities but not, it seems, for the religious society in its apostolic effort. nently, maintain the benefits of enthusiastic movements. The liturgical movement, for example, changed the thinking of many in regard to the liturgy; But ~he change in mentality was 0nly put into .practical effect through the new law on the liturgy promulgated by Vatican Council II. Through ~he law, then, it must,be made clear that the training of religious should be so designed as to develop maturity.Supeiiors and subjects alike should be instructed in the need for personal responsi-bility and the development of initiative. By framing legislation which allows for~the development of profes-sional competence through rather than in spite of re-ligious life, we will most certainly assure that religious will adapt to present day needs of apostolic activity. This thinking is not foreign to the mind of the Holy Father. When speaking ab6ut renewal in the Church, Pope Paul VI said: Let us repeat once again for our common admonition, and profit, the Church will rediscover her renewed youthfulness not so much by changing her exterior laws as by interiorly assimilat-ing her true spirit of obedience to Christ and accordingly by ob-serving those laws which the Church prescribes for herself with the. intention of following Christ. Here is the secret of her renewal, here her exercise of perfec-tion. Even though the Church's law might be made easier to observe by the simplification of some of its precepts and by placing confidence in the liberty of the modern Christian with his greater knowledge ofhis duties and his greater maturity and wisdom in choosing the means to fulfill them, the law neverthe-less retains its essential binding force (Ecclesiam Suam). The significant words here are: "the Church's law might be made easier to observe by. placing confidence in the liberty of the modern Christian with his greater knowledge of his duties and his greater maturity and wisdom in choosing the means to fulfill them . " This principle is not restricted to lay people; it applies to religious as well. By stressing this note of personal responsibility in all laws which concern the discipline and training of religious, significant progress will be made in forming the type of apostle who will win the world for Christ. Arguing for the adaptation and implementation of this principle does not in any way mitigate the need for ready and prompt obedience to the mind of Christ; rather it increases it. Nor does this principle signify a departure from the traditional interpretation which pictures religious obedience as a conformation of the intellect as well as of the will of the subject to the intel-lect and will of the superior who takes the place of Christ. Neither does it propose a false dichotomy be-tween law and love as motives for observing the law, as some do. Nor does it naively imply that religious should 4- ÷ Reoising t~anon Law VOLUME 24, 1965 determine what course their training should take, as though those who are .in the process of training are al-ready mature religious. Rather, this principle seeks to stress that in the process of training, maturity and ini-tiative must be tho?oughly developed so that active re-ligious can carry the message of Christ in a way that will have great impa~t upon the world. In a word, the prin-ciple of professional competence opts for a system of formation and an active apostolate which will feature religious maturity integrated with religious obedience, an apostolate and formation that will depend more upon the initiative and personal responsibility of the individual religious [or fulfillment and perfection than upon conformity to the group or direction by a su-perior. These, then, are the three principles which seem to be basic in any meaningful revision of canon law. If the revisers o~ the Code are interested in putting patches upon an aged and venerable, garment, then principles of revision need not be discussed or applied; but if they wish to face the problems of religious life and the apostolate head-on, .if they wish to update and adapt canon law to modern needs and situations, then princi-ples such as those stated above should be used when re-vising the canon law for religious. Kevi. D. O'Rour/~, OJ). REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS MOTHER M. ANGELICA,'P.C. One Heart and One Soul At the third session of the Vatican Council, a sum-mary of the Council document on religious had only a very passing reference to contemplative orders. These brief paragraphs reiterate the necessity of renewal and rejuvenation in these institutes. The fact that we are not engaged in the active life does not exempt us from necessary and careful examination and reevaluation of certain secondary details in. the general structure ofour life. Before we accomplish tl~is renewal, we must first of. all realize that when the Church speaks she is speaking to her contemplative religious as well as to the faithful. Thechanges in the Mass and the like should be made not merely to show our obedience but that we may reap those abundant fruits Which these changes seek to pro-mote. The reluctance Of cloistered communities to com-ply with the directives and ~changes promoted by the -Holy See seems to reflect a certain misunderstanding of the nun's place in the Church. Because of long-stand-ing privileges and constitutions, nuns fail to realize that the changing mind of the Church must affect them as well as it affects the laymen. In their rightful place as the loving heartof Holy Mother Church, they should be solicitously alert to her need of them as a power-house of prayer and of vigorous activity loving God and their neighbor With all the strength and talents at their command. Contemplative life is completely penetrated by di-vine charity, which inspires its actions and rewards its effbrts. In a world of turmoil, we are to be the example of the spirit and love of the first Christians.A nun filled with love cannot help'but show that love; "and this love wil! foster in the monastery a beautiful family spirit a family spirit which makes each sister feel loved and free to love in return. Where love governs a monastery and union with God is the ideal of all who live there, for-malism and regimentation are' washed away by the h,ealthy lifestream of common charity. What exactly is the family spirit, and why is it so The Reverend Mother M. Angel-ica, P.C., is the ab-bess of Our Lady of the Angels Monas-tery; Route 4--Box 66 Old Leeds Road; Birmingham, Ala-bama 35210. VOLUME 24, 1965 ÷ ÷ Mother M. Angelica, P.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS different from prevailing, conditions in many monas-teries? What changes can be made that would be com-mon to all contemplative orders while leaving to each its own distinctive spirit and aim? This article is a fam-ily project in which each nun has made a contribution in some way, and the following suggestions are the re-sult of this common effort to open the windows and let in the fresh air. Although a monastery is governed by the superior and her council, all professed nuns--at least, solemnly professed--should share in that govern-ment. When this is the case, the nuns learn to take their rightful place in the community as mature and intelli-gent women, using all their mental and physical re-sources to aid the abbess and help relieve her in some measure of her many burdens and to share her respon-sibilities. There are .many advantages to this .arrange-ment; for example, a strong bond of unity ties the nuns together and unites them as true.daughters of the mother God has given them; warm bonds of friendship and understanding prevail where sisters feel that their sug-gestions and opinions are appreciated and valued; obedience is made more reasonable and easier when the nuns know they are all pulling together for a common good; they feel that the monastery belongs to them as theirhome--as in truth it does (this realization should do away with the necessity of asking permission to ob-tain needed articles, personal or otherwise, from the common store--they are entitled to this trust and free-dom). The family spirit must embrace the whole world but especially members of the active orders. In religious life we are not competitors. When we begin to think that one life is higher and another lower, we have failed in our concept of the Mystical Body. We all belong to the same religious family; we all have the same general aim; namely, personal sanctification and the salvation, of souls. The means We employ are different, .but we a~e still one.The contemplative nun must be aware of the sacrifices and hardships of her brothers and. sisters in Africa, in China, and in other mission territories, and in the hospitals, schoolrooms, and missions of her own country. What affects them affects her Spouse, and this must be of great importance to her. Only then will she be able to make her own sacrifices with greater gener-osity in order to provide the ammunition needed by those in the front lines. The active order sister, too, must realize that the contemplative nun has not chosen :the easiest life buta life that demands many sacrifices and. much love--not only to praise, love, and adore God, but in order to obtain for her other sisters many graces so they can better fulfill their vocation in the active life. .The general financial condition of the monastery should be discussed, with all chapter members so that they can intelligently practice poverty. When familiar with this condition, they will use needed articles in their respective work with greater care and economy. ¯ When all work is rotated fi:~quently, the nuns become aware of one another's, prob.lems and difficulties. This rotation.of work helps the superior to brin.g out in her daughters their abilities and talents--talents they never realized existed. If each nun is ieft freedom to fulfill her work in her. own way, even though it ma~ be differ-ent from everyone else's, the superior will help greatly in developing her personality and dignity as an indi-vidual. The superior of any monastery carries a great respon-sibility. She must not .so much command as.request, and this request must be given With love.She must lead, cajole, persuade, and direct her daughters through love, ever keeping in.mind their dignity as spouses of Christ. ¯ She should give them the opportunity, at lectures or chapters, to have round table discussions whe~:e ideas can be exchanged and suggestions encouraged. The nuns should be allowed to r~ad periodicals in regard to changes in world conditions,, new r.eligious. trends, and world crises. They should be kept abreast of the times and not allow themselves to become com-pletely .isolated. Recendy, major superiors were asked for observations and sugges.tions toward the renewal of canon law for religious. We were asked in what areas we thought re-ligious life needed study, discussion, clarification, and adaptation. The following are a few of our observations and I am sure there are many more that other com-munities will have: (1) Why could not all the major superiors of the con-templative orders meet--Carmelites, Dominicans, Poor Clares, and so forth--and discuss one another's needs and difficulties? Even though each order hasa different founder, aim, and spirit, we still have the same goal; and we could benefit one another by an exchange of ideas in the basic things common to all. (2) It' would be good to have some law requiring the 'orders to re-evaluate their-constitutions and directories every ten or fifteen years; and this should be done with + all the chapter members of .that community giving + opinions and suggestions. Many of the customs which ÷ we hold dear have become outdated and create among One Heart and ¯ young aspirants a feeling of tension and restraint, one Soul. Thege customs were beautiful and had great meaning when they were originally instituted, but the life of a vOLUME 24, 196s young girl in the world today is so different from what. 545 .÷. ÷ ÷ Mother M. Angelica, P.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 546 it was a century ago that certain customs have lost all meaning. (3) Most of our monasteries have major papal encl0, sure and all changes must be Approved by Rome. But climate and .local custom sometimes make it necessary for one monaster~ to make. changes that another would not need. It would be a tremendous help if some parts of constitutions could.be changed with the permission of the local ordinary, who knows that monastery and its problems. (4) The Sacred Constitution On. the Liturgy states that with the permission of their competent superior the nuns may say the Divine Office in English. With the English Office and the high school education that most aspirants. have, why is it necessary to retain the class of lay sister? Class distinction and rank have no place among those striving to imitate the first Christians who were one heart and one soul. (5) Many a local ordinary would no doubt be grateful if the. abbess or prioress had the faculty to grant per-mission for her daughters to go to the dentist, doctor, or hospital. New advances in medicine and treatments make it more necessary today for cloistered nuns to make trips outside the monastery than it was a century ago. (6) The greatest thing a superior can do for her com-munity is to make sure there is someone qualified to take her. place. There can be great danger when one superior is allowed to stay in office over a long period of. time; on the other hand, forcing an upheaval in a small community, every Six years can also be .detrimental. Set-ting a definite term .of years for one person in office seems to infringe upon the freedom of the nuns to vote, as mature women, for the superior tliey wish. Postula-tion and application to ihe Holy See seem to be extraor-dinary barriers which, influence voting. With periodic visitations, injustices could be handled when they arose mwithout influencing the nuns in either direction. This is a prbblem p.revalent in small communities. (7) It is understandable why a priest is bound under pain of mortal sin in the recitation of the Divine Office (although the helpfulness of this has been questioned); but why nuns? The penalty for omitting a small part of the Divir.e Office seems greater than the offense. A nun must recite her Office out of love, in a spirit of adora-tion, realizing that next to the Mass this is her most important work. A nun who is not imbued with this spirit is not really saying the Office but is only .pro-nouncing the word~, and the penalty of mortal sin will never give her the zeal she lacks. By the same token, the penalty of excommunication for breaking the enclosure in a minor point seems high. Again--the enclosure must be kept out of love. (8) Major. superiors should understand that their. nuns are daughters and not subjects.They must be treated as m~ture women with the right to an explana-tion of a command or request. This does not mean that they must have an explanation of every request made, but superiors should no~ resent giving hn' eXplanation if it is asked; a nun does not fail in obedi~nce.because she does not .understand. (9) The public accusation of faults, commonly called "chapter," seems to need some type of revision. The weekly recital of faults against rules and customs seems to have lost some ofits effectiveness; it hasbecome a routine exercise, that arouses little enthusiasm or inter-est. Unless public s~andal is involved, the minor fail-ures of religious ~hould be corrected by the superior or novice mistress in their lectures or private interviews. (10) It is becoming more difficult' to get vocations to the contemplative orders. It may be because young girls who feel they.have a vocation have no contact with us. Since letters can be very misleading in determining "a vocation, it may be. of help. to the order and to the aspirants if the nuns welcome them into ~h.e monastery enclosure on a specified day each year to give them a. better idea of the life, the monastery, and the nuns. An-other solution might be to have a representative of the monastery at the yearly vocation day p~ojects which many of the high schools conduct for their area. (11) Is it necessary to have age requirements for the election of officers? Is it not more important to stress capabilities? Here again, we must realize that young nuns are, for the most part, well educated and capable of handling responsibilities. (12) Extra devotional activities should be left to the individual nun and not be made compulsory by con-stitutional requirements. More emphasis Should be put on the Mags and the Divine Office as the focal point of the nun's spiritual life. (13) Excessive formulas at chapters for investment, profession, and so forth should be avoided. Often a novice finds these a real burden; and they leave her open to temptations, discouragement, and frustration. In-stead, the beauty of the religious life should be pre-sented to her so that ~he can prayerfully and gratefully accept this tremendous gift from God. We hope this article shows how many facets of our life need careful examination and .reevaluation not only that the nuns who live the life can do so with greater freedom and joy of heart but that those who consider living our life may find in it all. the means they need in this modern age to become great contemplatives. ÷ ÷ ÷ One Heart and One Soul VOLUME 24, 1965 547 CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. Poverty and Sanctification ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C., teaches the-ology at Holy Cr6ss College; 4001 Hare-wood Road, N.E.; Washington 17,D.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Oftentimes* we may have wondered why religious men and women have received as a kind of vested right the general title of "religious." Certainly, they are by no means alone in their practice and exercise of the worship of God; for this, as we know, is binding on the Church as a whole, on each and every member of the People of. God. It is established on the fact that all the faithful are consecrated to God by their baptism and have thereby received a share in the priesthood of the Lord Jesus ex; isting in power. Thus, their whole llfe is meant to be "consecrator~," ordained to cult, at least, understood in the broad sense; consequently, their entire life is meant to be reI!gious.1 Moreover, we know that there are per-sons who are not "i:eligious" in the usually accepted sense of this word but who spend more. time in their actual ~ worship of God than do those who are "religious." Yet only .those who have entered an institute in which the public profession of vows is made are called "religi0us.7 There is a rather special reason for this, admirably indi-cated by St. Thomas: "As stated above (q.141, a.1) that which is applicable to many things in common is ascribed antonomastically to that. to which it is applicable by way of excellence. Thus the name of fortitude, is claimed by the virtue which preserves the firmness of mind in regard to most difficult things, and the name of temperance by.that Virtue which tempers the greatest pleasures. Now religion as stated above (q.81, a.2; a.3, resp. 2) is a virtue by which.a man offers something to the service and worship of God. Therefore those who "give themselves up entirely to the ¯ This is the revised version of the second of six lectures that Father Schleck gave in the summer of 1962 to the Conference of Major Superiors of Women Religious of the United States. The first of the lectures was published in REvn~w FOR RELIClOUS, v. 24 (1965), pp. 161-87. 1 Pope Paul VI, Allocution on Religious LiJe, May 23, 1964, view FOR R~.mmtJs, v. 23 (196_4) p. 699. divine service, as offering a holocaust to God, are called religious antonomastically (or by special right).2 If we were to study the virtue of religion we would find that it is responsible not only for those acts which normally are its proper sphere, such as devotion or promptness in the service' 6f God or sacrifice or adora-tion, but also for those acts of other virtues which are commanded by religion's attitude and referred to it. Thus the acts of all the virtues, to the extent that they are referred to God's service and honor, become acts of the virtue, of religion. From this it follows that since a religious is one who devotes her whole life to the divine service, her whole life belongs to the exercise of the vir-tue of religion. It is a life in which every action is one of cult, one of worship, an act of her common priest-hood. It is for this reason that such a life is called the "religious life," and that those who embrace it are called by this special name. It is St. Gregory the Great who compares the religious consecration to a holocaustal offering: "When one vows something of himself to God, o. 2-2, q.186, a.l. "Admittedly, the doctrine of the universal.vocation of the faithful to holiness of life (regardless of their position or so-cial situation) has been advanced very much in modern times. This is as it should be, for it is based on the fact that all the .faithful are consecrated to God by their baptism. Moreover, the very necessities of the times demand that the fervor of Christian life should inflame souls and radiate itself in the world. In other words, the needs of the times demand a consecration of the world and this tasl~, pertains pre-eminently to the laity . However, we must be on our guard lest [or this very reason, the true notion o] religious life as it has tradi-tionally flourished in the Church, should become obscured. We must beware lest our youth, becoming confused while thinking about their choice of a state in life, should be thereby hindered in some way from having a clear and distinct vision of the special function and immutable importance of the religious state within the Church . for'this stable way of life, which receives its proper character from profession of the evangelical vows, is a perfect way of living accord-ing to the example and teaching of Jesus Christ. It is a state of life which keeps in view the constant growth of charity leading to its final perfection. In other ways of life, though legitimate in them-selves, the specific ends, advantages, and functions are of a temporal character. "On the other hand, right now it is of supreme importance for the Church to bear witness socially and publicly. Such witness is pro-claimed by the way of life embraced by the religious institutes. And the more it is stressed that the role of the laity demands that they live and advance the Christian life in the world, so much the more necessary is it for those who have truly renounced the world to let their example radiantly shine forth. In this way it will clearly be shown that the kingdom of Christ is not of this world. "Hence it follows that the profession of the evangelical dounsels is a super-addition to that consecration which is proper to baptism. It is indeed a special consecration which perfects the former one in-asmuch as by it, the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone" (Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life, May 23, 1964 [italics mine]; REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS, V. 23 [1964], pp. 699--700). ÷ ÷ ÷ Poverty and Sanctification VOLUME 24, 1965 549 ÷ Charles d. $chleck, C.$,C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 550 and yet retains something for himself, it is a sacrifice on his. part. But when one vows to God all that he has, all that he lives, all that he relishes, then we have a holo-caust, which in Latin means all incense." s The reference which St. Gregory has in mind is unmistakable. The holocaust was the sacrifice par excellence [or the Jews in the Old Testament. It was the most perfect, the most excellent that could be offered to God. And the meaning of this action was symbolic. It indicated that God was sovereign, that man owed Him his complete and entire subjection. Thevictim offered was considered as going up in flame and smoke tO Yahweh. It was a sign or symbol or a kind of "saci'ament" of what was supposed to be the interior attitude of the donor, .of his inner worship, of soul, of the. complete gift and surrender of self to the Lord. The entire victim was consumed on the altar so that it might denote that the whole person of the donor was giving itself to God for the purpose of union in life.4 What was offered to Yahweh was life, not death; and it was offered joyfully and freely. The New Testament, since it is the completion and fulfillment of the Old, asks an even more perfect act of sacrifice and holocaust. And this is found especially in the religious profession which has not only an individual dimension but a christic and ecclesial dimension as well. It is an act which signifies the complete dominion which God has over" the whole of creation; and it is an act which signifies most perfectly the act of redemption par excellence, the paschal mystery. The two elements which are found in this holocaustal act of the Lord--the spirit which prompted him to undergo it, namely, divine charity or love for the Father and men, and the human nature in and through which this act was undergone-- are found also in the religious profession whereby one dedicates and consecrates hi~s or her entire life and per-son to the service of God in such a way that this person and life pertains to o~cially accepted or public cult. The religious vocation is a call or an invitation from God, an act by which He through a special communica-tion of His salvific and loving mercy stoops down, so to speak, and touches certain persons in the Church, en-abling them or appointing them to exercise a symbolic and sacramental ministry or dial~onia in the Church, His Body. They are called to be a sign of the Person, not merely individual, but also social, corporal, the Body- Person which is the Church in search for God; they are called to be a sign of the heavenly Jerusalem, the bride who has been adorned not by the artistry of men, but from heaven, by an artistry that comes from above, wait- 8 In Ezechielern, Hom. 8, bk. 2, P.L., 76, 1037. ~ 1-2, q.102, a.3, ad 8 and 9; see also Lv 1:1-17. ing for the Lord with the eagerness of a bride ready .to meet her husband.5 The religious proIession, in its turn, is merely a re-sponse to this invitation implying the gift and complete surrender of one's person to the Lord by way of public consecration. This profession is merely' an,outward ex-pression or manifestation or epiphany of an inward love. It is the public and ritual revelation' of the most fundamental duty and response which the creature can make to the Creator. For by it more than by" any other merely human act we tell God that He is God, that we are His creatures, that we are at His complete disposal, that His will is the law and center of our life. Thug, at the basis of this ritual and holocaustal gift there must lie a most intense activity of' the virtues of love and religion especially, but also of the ~other virtues as well, since the infused virtues grow and operate with proportionate in-tensity.~ When we ask ourselves what this profession involves, the answer, is quite clear. It involves the living of the common life (for those who are religious in the strict sense of this word) and the .observance of the evangelical counsels under vow3 There is a long history behind this de facto ~ituation, one which we cannot go into in the present article. Suffice it to say that in the early Church one of the marks that Was characteristic according to the idyllic presentation of the Acts of the Apostles (2:42) was the sharing of things in common. Just exactly what this implied is not certain, but most probably it was nothing more than a deep concern and spontaneous generosity in regard .to the material needs of the members of the Christian community. The earliest form of asceticism-- implying consecration also--seems to have been the practice of virginity for the sake of the kingdom of God.s While a kind of apostolic poverty was practised from the v.ery beginning of the Church, still the stark message of the gospel: "Go sell what thou hast and give ¯ to the poor," did not receive any "specialized" response until the time of St. Antony (d. 356). A~ first the practice was .personal, that is, not pract!sed in community, as was .also true of virginity; and it was characterized by a spiritual joy, the hope of heaven, and trust and confidence and hope in the Lord. From a personal prac-tice aimed at bringing out the perfection of hope and ~Ap 21:2. e 1-2, q.66, a.2. ~ There are some few exceptions with regard to the demand of liv-ing dommunity life; for example, the Daughters of the Heart of Mary. See. Suzanne Cita-Malard, Religio~s Orders o! Women (New York: Hawthorn, 1964), p. 21. 8 1 Cot.7. 4- Poverty and Sanctification VOLUME 24, 1965 ultimately of charity, .it was soon transformed into a community af

Issue 64.4 of the Review for Religious, 2005. ; Praying Calling Rehgious Life Perspectives The Spirit QUARTERLY 64.4 2O05 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we ~y to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul VI said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \\feb site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid :at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2005 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must hear 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. ~ gournalof Catholic S~iri~uali~ eli Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff VVebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp .Clare Boehmer ASC Steve Erspamer SM Kaddeen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishoi~ Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukerifis CSJ QUARTERLY 64.4 2005 contents prisms 340 Prisms 342 355 praying Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation James A. Rafferty details the unique participation of Mary in the Eucharistic sacrifice of Jesus, a proximity to Eucharistic presence that envelops her entire being. Personal Prayer and Group Reflection From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation Ernest E. Larkin OCarm provides a personal account of his study and experience of centering prayer and contemplation and Christian Meditation. Reflection Questions 369 380 calling Rekindling the Fire: Vocation Efforts Sefin D. Sammon FMS writes a letter to his own brothers to encourage practical measures to be adopted for encouraging vocations to religious life. Reflection Questions Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth Leo J. Heriot SDB shares the dream of the young John Bosco that continues to shape the Salesian apostolate and system of education. Review for Religious 386 405 r Oi ious p rspe ivss The Council as Catalyst Elizabeth McDonough OP gives a snapshot picture from her own experience of living religious life in the light of the happening of Vatican Council II. Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney Christian Raab OSB suggests that a monk's vow of stability offers the opportunity to transform one's life instead of becoming stuck in the repetition of daily life. 410 spirit Led by the Spirit: St. Augustine Andrew Ryder SCJ presents the three movements in Augustine's life that are key to understanding his doctrine on the Holy Spirit. 424 429 436 443 Scripture Scope: Mark's Gospel and Jesus' Radical Humanity Canonical Counsel: Canonical Federation Book Reviews Indexes 64.4 200Y prisms Te main character in a popu-lar TV show called "Joan of Arcadia" finds that God speaks to her. God is always surprising her by speaking through quite different people-- sometimes young and at other times old or in-between, sometimes male and at other times female. This young woman is portrayed as a very ordinary person, but her experiences of God seem to set her apart. If we were to be asked where most consistently we experience God, I doubt that many of us would say that we hear God speaking to us. In fact, we tend to be wary of people who hear "voices" or God speaking to them. Yet the God of the Old and New Testaments is a communicator. We identify the scriptures as the word of God. Christian prayer has always been understood as a dialogue, with both God and ourselves speaking and listening to each other. What we are sometimes slow to recog-nize is that God communicates not just in words. In the whole world of creation, God is speaking. Our personal talents, our gifts, our traits tell us that God has loved us personally into existence. People have always found the majesty of God in the surging of the ocean's Review for Religious waves, in the soaring heights of mountain peaks, and in the rosy-fingered morning sun. Certain people coming into our lives make real to us the call, the concern, the compassion of God. Their very presence makes us feel touched by God. We Catholics have always held our saints in great esteem and affection. They continue to touch us with God's presence. We remember our dead because they too, strikingly holy or not, have spoken to us of God's care. We ask for their help because they relate us to God. And so God speaks to us not only in the sacred words of Scripture, but also through people and things and events of our everyday environment. Modern psychology has made us aware that we com-municate through body language. God, too, uses body language to talk to us. Every time we celebrate Christmas we can "hear" what God is saying to us through the baby Jesus. No one is frightened by a baby--seeing no stern judge or a wrathful and punishing monarch. The baby Jesus reaches out and hands himself over to us in great freedom and trust and love. This baby in a manger-- Jesus--is God speaking. The wonder of Christmas brings home to us how, first among all .the other ways of com-municating, God's incarnate Word speaks to us. What we need to observe in a more daily way is the silence of a Christmas night so that we can watch and listen. Perhaps that is our New Year's resolution. David L. Fleming SJ ES. The Review for Religious staff and board mem-bers pray for a holy and blessed Advent and Christmas seasons for all of our readers. 64.4 2005 JAMES A. RAFFERTY Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation praying This reflection looks at the relationship between Mary and the Eucharistic Lord. It attempts to show, in particular, Mary's intimate presence to the Eucharist. As a woman at the center of God's love for all humanity, Mary may properly be identified as Woman of the Eucharist, the title both reverential and affectionate that Pope John Paul employs in his encyclical Ecclesia de Eucharistia. This title is not merely a clever the-ological phrase about Mary symbolizing the entire church by her faith and receptive coop-eration. The title is about Mary's profound spir-itual relationship with her Son. Attuned as no other to the intimate communion deep within the Trinity, Mary singularly understands Jesus' Eucharistic heart as it embraces all humanity in choosing Calvary, where self-surrendering love is displayed in shocking degree. James A. Rafferty, a priest of the Diocese of Scranton, is chaplain and a campus minister at Marywood University; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. Review for Religious More than a theological category or doctrinal for-mulation, Mary, Woman of Eucharist, sings the hymn of one woman's surrender to the divine Love that gently invites people to become more like itself. The sacra-mental Eucharist we celebrate today has its peak expres-sion in the Last Supper that opens the original drama of the paschal mystery, but Jesus' Eucharistic offering is not limited to those hours of his life. Rather, his entire being may be described as Eucharist--sacrificial self-offering emboldened by an enormous gratitude. Mary's life, too, chants her Son's Eucharistic hymn of praise and self-gift long before she accompanies him to the moment when he hands over all that he is on the cross. Eucharistic tones reverberate in Mary's immaculate con-ception, in the annunciation, in her hearing her Son pro-claim the kingdom, in her presence at Calvary, and in her sharing in the Easter glory. The first Eucharistic moment in Mary's life, as in everyone's, is the moment of conception. Like everyone else, Mary receives her unique and unrepeatable iden-tity as nothing other than gift, gift to herself and to the world. Births celebrate the overflowing of love from the Trinity's heart into time and space, letting itself be known in the life of another. Life itself means receiving what we cannot give or produce on our own. This divine gift is always more splendid than cellular interactions and anatomical functions. The Spirit of God breathing into clay sacramentalizes the loving communion of the Creator with the created. Physical existence, even veiled in the womb, announces the divine creative imagination that renders each life sacred by bearing the image and likeness of the Triune God. While every new human life arouses awe and thank-fulness in the presence of this loving gift from God, the humble daughter of Israel has an unprecedented 343 64.4 2005 Rafferty * Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation God creates Mary as one ready to welcome, grace without resistance, Eucharistic glow from her immaculate conception. The child of Anne and Joachim receives from her first instant the totally unmerited gift of being preserved by God from all stain of original sin. God creates Mary as one ready to welcome grace without resistance. Her very dis-position is to seek always what is the delight of her Creator and Lord. In her immaculate heart Mary bows before the tender stirrings of the Spirit of Yahweh. She never lurches away from the Lord in willful-ness. Her submission to God is like the strings of a peerless violin at the touch of a skilled violinist. The instrument exists precisely to give resonance to the master's melody and fill the air with music. The violinist's touch is not subjugation. It frees the instrument to be its fullest self. Mary cooperates wholly in all that God desires for her. We pray during the liturgy for something of her receptivity when we say, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed." Although these words originate in Jesus' encounter with a centurion concerned for his servant's health, the litur-gical context may suggest Zacchaeus, delighted to wel-come Jesus to his home and almost happy at not concealing how much his soul has needed tidying up. As we approach the altar to receive the gift of Jesus' Body and Blood, it seems that Jesus wishes to evoke within us Peter's change of heart: first refusing to let Jesus wash his feet and then eagerly conceding at Jesus' insistence. Again, the Immaculate Conception is a permanent stance of receptivity. We seek that disposition in our own prepa-ration for Communion. Review for Religious The Eucharistic motif appears in Mary's life also in her obscurity and poverty. Her simple, humble existence in a tiny village reflects the Eucharist. There Mary depends utterly on God. Mary experiences a real, not just a romantic, poverty. She feels with all who are poor the realities of hunger, cold, and powerlessness. For her the cry of the poor is not a hypothetical, poetic verse; it echoes her authentic abandonment to the Lord's provi-dence in situations where human efforts do not accom-plish much. There is more here than a passive resolve to endure difficulty and want. Mary finds comfort and assur-ance in a faithful God who has pledged never to aban-don the people he has chosen to be his own. As a woman of actual poverty, Mary relates to God as the provider of her daily needs. She carries within her a practiced confi-dence that God attends to her hunger and thirst, a heart-felt trust that breaks into the praise of the Magnificat. She lives out of the consciousness that it is God who feeds, nourishes, and sustains. Her poverty expresses sol-idarity with every child of the Covenant who awaits God's saving action. Such indomitable hope, passed on across centuries, has been planted deep in Mary's heart. Mary's Eucharistic living is evident in the moment when divinity unites with human flesh at her consent, "Let it be done to me according to your word." The Lord instituted the sacramental Eucharist for us to con-sume and thereby have the divine life pulsing strongly within us. Mary's "yes" to the invitation of God fore-shadows our "amen" at being offered the Eucharist. Amen here means "Yes, I believe it is the Body of Christ, and, yes, I wish to receive it." It is implicitly a consent that the Body of Christ broken, offered, received, and consumed may effect a change in us who partake.of it. As believers we surrender before the mystery in a way similar to Mary's "Let it be done to me." Like Mary at the annun- 64.4 2005 Rafferty * Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation 346 ciation, in the Eucharist we implicitly desire that the Trinity take over our life so that our identity, fused with Jesus himself, lets itself be guided by God the Father. When the angel appears to Mary with the message that she will conceive and bear a son who will be called Son of the Most High, she perceives the compassion radiating from the heart of God. This radiance accom-panies the self-surrender of the God who comes to dwell in flesh. By the grace of the Holy Spirit, Mary is drawn into God's plan, which includes Calvary. In the powerful current of paschal love, she more than anyone else glimpses the yearning of God to heal the rift that sin causes in the relationship between Creator and creature. Every act of God in the salvific economy bears a paschal orientation, and Mary intuits the paschal horizon of God's project. That is, she senses the truth of what she meets in the annunciation--a self-offering Love that knows no limitation. Lacking the vocabulary of Trinitarian theology, Mary nonetheless encounters the Father offering his Son in the power of the Holy Spirit. She experiences deep within her the distinct energies of the Trinitarian per-sons, as if eavesdropping on the dialogue of the Trinity's plan for her. Mary knows, then, a Father sharing his Son with her, and she knows this contemplatively in the depths of her being. Mary's pregnancy does not begin as a mere procedural accomplishment, as valued posses-sions are handed over to faithful friends for safekeeping. Because the Spirit of God fills her, Mary senses the meaning of this act for the Father. The Father is hand-ing over to her, and through her to all humanity, that which is most precious to him, his beloved Son. Mary knows this with her whole being. She knows, too, the Son's active participation in this gift-giving. Before the throne of the Father in heaven, Review for Religious the Son exercises the characteristic obedience that he will manifest in the world even to death. Mary'sfiat opens the path for the eternal Word to enact his incarnation in space and time. The Son exchanges the omnipotence of divine majesty for confinement in the womb of a young woman. The Second Person of the Trinity assumes human nature in its meekest form and progresses accord-ing to the physiological laws of the human condi-tion. Mary, of course, does not, by virtue of her experience of the annun-ciation, have unrestricted access to the mind of God. She remains thor-oughly finite. Like every other human being, she knows only what she can experience. There pre-cisely do we find the glory in the incarnation, the splendid miracle that Mary is the first to perceive--God revealed in human frailty. Mary is present to the moment when the Son clothes himself in the frailty, dependence, poverty, and even death that mark every human life. The words of consecration so familiar in the Eucharistic Prayer are already subtly present at the annunciation. "You will conceive and bear a son." "How can this be?" "The power of the Most High will over-shadow you." It is as if all of creation--a suffering world yearning for the healing that it is helpless to achieve on its own--has been imploring the Holy Spirit, in one great wordless epidesis, to fill the virginal womb with life. And God responds by making himself present in history for children and adults to see, hear, and touch--and be Mary is present to the moment when the Son clothes himself in the ~ailty, dependence, poverty, and even death that mark every human life. 347 64.4 200Y Rafferty ¯ Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation touched by. Mary's response is personal and collective. She speaks on behalf of a wounded race. Generation after generation of messianic hope permeates the Jewish faith. In Mary and others like Anna and Simeon, this hope is not merely a passive waiting and watching. More than that, it is an ever intensifying desire, calling upon God fervently and ceaselessly from amid the welter of the human condition. Here is the imploring epiclesis to which the Father answers in the incarnation of his Son. To this intensification of Jewish prayer may be added the human hearts all over the world humbly defenseless under the weight and the stings of evil. Moved by their sobs and their silence, God intervenes decisively. Through the Holy Spirit and Mary's yes, God's Son becomes present in her womb. This is similar to what occurs in the liturgy. Mary offers herself in conjunction with the cries of a people lost in darkness, and the Holy Spirit completes her offering infinitely by bringing about the presence of Jesus in her womb. The divine love in this human form is Light itself amid earth's darkness. Surrendering himself to the human condition, the Son of God encompasses the human race's sad history in himself. He submits himself to the force of evil that pummels, confuses, and obliterates. At the first moment made possible by Mary's assent, the world begins to hear the Son whisper, "Take this, all of you, and eat it, this is my body; take and drink, this is my blood, given up for you." Mary silently possesses more than an inkling of the self-surrender that God envi-sions. The Son empties himself by taking on human nature, and Mary nourishes humanity's self-sacrificing Savior towards his birth. She and he both anticipate his self-offering on the cross, the offering that rises from burial into resurrection a~l is present each time the Eucharist is celebrated. Mary's praying heart delights in Review for Religious the wonder, adoration, and gratitude with which she accompanies the Child she carries. With maternal love she worships thankfully the Presence within her in a unique Communion. The proclamation of the kingdom of God, too, is redolent of the F~ucharistic. In the Spirit, all grace of whatever form moves human hearts to Communion. People's gifts or fruits of prayer come to naught unless they seek and find some externalization in unity, in Communion. The Spirit is Communio, and all grace drives toward perfect fulfillment in the heavenly ban-quet, the wedding feast of the Lamb, for which the litur-gical sacrifice prepares us. No wonder, then, that the New Testament's Eucharistic imagery appears in the ear-liest moments of Jesus' public ministry. At the Jordan, Jesus, who is without sin, does not accept John's baptism as a gesture of solidarity with weaker brothers and sisters. He is maturely aware of his right relationship with Yahweh. His decision to approach the Baptist, like his acceptance of the cross, manifests publicly the full sur-render to the Father's will that he has made in prayer many times. Here at the Jordan, Jesus offers himself unreservedly to his Father's plan. He pledges himself to the kingdom that John has heralded. In sublime intimacy the Son prays, "Take this, Father, it is yours." He hands over to the Father all that he receives: his body, his energy, his desire, his relationships; his future. At the Jordan, at the proper time, the Son relives on earth his own unseen choice in eternity to become incarnate. His Father accepts his self-offering and blesses it with the epiphany that confirms the beloved Son's identity. As Jesus undertakes his public ministry, right from the beginning he gathers a community from people who have little in common other than their friendship with Jesus and the willingness to risk being in his company. 64.4 200~ Rafferty * Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation Mary playsa role in , this formation of Christ's followers inlto a Eucharistic coinmunityi Jesus does not announce the kingdom as some exhila-rating new ideology or political vision. Rather, he forms relationships and then sees to it that they form rela-tionships with one another. And he gets them sharing in his own relationship, his own communion, with the Father. Today the Eucharistic table is the special place where the Father reaches out to his sons and daughters and where they seek the deep unity among themselves that they find occurs only when God is in their midst. In celebrating the Eucharist, Christians accompany Jesus and attend to his words and actions, and he forms the church in his paschal love just as he did with his first disciples. Mary, Woman of the Eucharist, plays a role in this formation of Christ's followers into a Eucharistic com-munity. Here this does not mean intuitions of their rit-ual participation in the Mass. Rather, it means learning a new way of being loved by God. Their souls are being awakened to tolerate and then to rejoice that Jesus comes not to be served but to serve. The Spirit is slowly instructing them in the language of God's heart, which speaks most eloquently in the silence of Good Friday. But, preparing for that day, Jesus brings his friends and coworkers home with him to Nazareth and to Mary. They have left home and livelihood to stay with him. They are good people, but they carry the soot of the world with them. Their hands and their hearts are stained with the grime of laboring in a world pol-luted by greed, prejudice, dishonesty, violence, and cynicism. Review for Religious As if in a retreat in preparation for the work of the kingdom, the disciples notice the warmth of pure love between Jesus and his mother. The home at Nazareth serves as a chapel of adoration, of deep devotion, where the love that the graced human spirit is capable of becomes visible. In Jesus' relating with Mary, there is no hardness of heart, no defensiveness, no secrecy, no inse-curity. The disciples could not have resisted being affected by the goodness of this mother and this Son. Long before Mary and John's presence on Calvary, Jesus is already drawing his friends into Mary's universal moth-erhood. At the same time, Mary quietly rejoices as she watches the glow of Trinitarian communion dawn in the lives of others. As the church begins to form, Mary joy-fully waits at the center to share what she has received. Eucharistic nuances continue to pervade Mary's dis-cipleship of her Son, especially in her loyal, fearless par-ticipation in his death and resurrection. The full meaning of the Via Crucis opens up before people who contem-plate it with Mary's eyes. Mary's consent to the angel at the annunciation reaches its climax in her yes beneath the cross, where her heart, united with her Son's, is in perfect obedience to the Father. Mary's obedience is not a horrified resignation to the inevitable, nor a resentful passivity in the face of something she desperately wants to alter. Mary cooperates in the sacrifice of Jesus. Indeed, as Jesus struggles toward the altar of the cross, Mary's spirit accompanies him with the prayer that nothing dis-suade him from his g0al. Whatever dark lies, taunts, or tortuous subtleties the tempter hurled at him in Gethsemane, Mary, in luminous contrast, gently urges him not to give up. Her intense love for Jesus cannot wish him to be other than who he is. In her Son's selfless desire to give himself away out of love, amid the hor-rific brutality of Calvary, Mary gazes upon the heart of 64.4 200Y Rafferty ¯ Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation the Trinity revealed in human history. Wondrously graced, she embraces both the incomparable grief of a woman who witnesses her son's execution and the awe of one who witnesses a compassion as vast as God him-self. Jesus gives forth his last breath, every last spark of energy in his being. For humaniv ~'s sake he surrenders to Mary embraces both the incomparable grief of a woman who Witnesses her son's execution and the awe of one: who witnesses a compassion as vast as God himself. the Father all that he has and is, and Mary watches the birth of a New Covenant. In her excruciating sorrow there is an unshak-able joy. What can possibly convey the significance of her tears shed that day? Hers are tears of pain and also over-whelming delight at a mystery so profound it takes an eternity to contemplate it. Mary does not impede or resist the cross of her Son. She lives and moves in the Spirit of the Father who hands over his beloved Son. Mary deeply comprehends the Trinity's sacrificial love. She is the first human being to understand all that the Eucharistic sacrifice entails. Even more incredible, she prays for everyone to have the courage to approach the sacrifice of Jesus and with her to desire its fulfill-ment in a personal assent to Jesus' self-offering. The Eucharist derives its meaning and power from Jesus' pas-sion, death, and resurrection. Mary teaches the church how to adore the Lord at the foot of the cross, where blood and water flowed from the Savior's pierced side. Jesus' disciples, even his closest friends, had to learn of Review for Religious the empty tomb before their despair turned to hope, but Mary is deeply consoled even as she cradles Jesus' lifeless body in her arms. The resurrection and Pentecost show the redeeming power of the paschal mystery. So do present-day Eucharists. They do it not simply because Christ died on the cross, but because he lives now and forever, some-thing our faith knows. Through her deep faith Mary is already disposed for Easter before her risen Son ever appears. For the faithful woman who can see more than loss and emptiness at Calvary, there is more than the silence of the grave. There is a confident communion with the Father, whose unwavering love Mary knows well. Her soul has felt the tender power of the Spirit bringing to birth what human imagination cannot fathom. Mary has learned well to trust in more than what her senses reveal. She is the authentic contemplative, familiar with the Spirit's movement, and it is not a spirit of despair. She remains a mother in those dark hours. She consoles and encourages the confused, disheartened disciples until the Paraclete fills their hearts with the light of Truth and with Pentecostal fire. Deep faith in the Risen One sees more than any eyes can see. It sees that death itself is not the tragic loss it appears to be, but is the last measure of the prelude to the divine oratorio of eternal life. In the Eucharist, too, participants see and hear more than their senses per-ceive. The bread is no longer bread, the wine no longer wine, but the living presence of Jesus Christ, who makes of his members a living communion. It is Mary who leads the church to the Eucharistic Lord. Hers is no mere external presence or observance or performance. She is intimately involved in her Son's love for the world. Her heart comes to us with the Love that overflows the heart of God. 64.4 2005' Rafferty ¯ Mary, Woman of the Eucharist: A Contemplation Sources Pope John Paul II. Encyclical Letter Ecclesia de Eucbaristia. 17 April 2003. Corbon, Jean. Tbe Wellspring of V~ord~ip, trans. Matthew J. O'Connell. New York: Paulist Press, 1988. Reprinted by Wipf and Stock Publishers. Personal Prayer In the context of the Eucharistic celebration, we might take up the following scripture passages for contemplation: Luke 1:26-38 John 19:25-37 Group Reflection In what ways has this article on "Mary, Woman of the Eucharist" opened up new insights and apprecia-tion for the Mass in our daily living? Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation T~nPaper is a bit of narrative theology, something y personal journey over the last twenty-five or thirty years trying to practice meditation and contem-plation. My account begins in midstream of my religious life, in the mid 1970s, with my introduction to centering prayer. Basically the journey has been from centering and centering prayer to Christian Meditation, the prayer discipline of John Main (+1982). Three Ways to the Center First, the point of departure. What do I mean by cen-tering and centering prayer? These .terms have become familiar and clearly defined today. It was not always so. Centering and centering prayer meant different things to different people in the 1960s and 1970s. An example is the article by Thomas E. Clarke sJ in the British journal The Way titled "Finding Grace at the Centre.''1 The title may be familiar, because it named a collection of Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote for us last in July-August 2003. His address is St. Agnes Catholic Church; 1954 North 24th Street; Phoenix, Arizona 85008. 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation essays on centering prayer published by the Trappists in 1978 and again by Skylight Paths Publishing in 2002. The whole article was reprinted except for the last two pages, which at the time represented one of the chief contributions of the article. So I have a quarrel with the editors for deleting the pages and not indicating they did so. Apparently they wanted to highlight the one form of centering prayer they were espousing in the booklet, and so dropped two other prayer forms that Clarke was presenting as ways to the center. In the article Clarke presented a philo-sophical exposition of centering and then posed the ques-tion: How does one make the journey to the center? His answer was threefold. The first way was classical center-ing prayer, the way of dark faith, which proceeds beyond images and concepts and seeks to rest in the indwelling God. The other two ways to the center used imagination and feelings; they were the prayer of images and fantasy and the practice of the examen of consciousness. All three were ways to the center, ways to dispose the soul for the great gift of contemplation. Together they offered a rich and broadly based prayer life. Teachers of centering prayer should have applauded the connecting of centering prayer with other forms of active prayer. Centering prayer is contemplative in intent, but active in method, as are all forms of meditation. Centering prayer was not supposed to replace lectio div-ina, nor to become one's total prayer life. Centering prayer is a spiritual exercise to deepen one's whole spir-itual life, animating, for example, the liturgy and one's devotions. Connecting the three ways put flesh and blood on centering prayer by acknowledging that imagination and human effort can help in the process of centering. Clarke's paper stated a simple and even obvious fact, Review for Religious namely, that the search for contemplation, especially in beginnings, is not an abstract act; it invokes images and thoughts even while it strives to get beyond them. All three ways converge to the center. This was a welcome reminder in the early days of centering prayer. I remember how the insight thrilled me. I talked about the distinctions with Father John Kane, a Redemptorist, who founded a contemplative house of prayer in Tucson, Arizona. We both agreed that the article was a breakthrough because it made room for the imagination at least in the beginnings of con-templative prayer. The search for contemplation was not restricted to forced abstract search; one did not have to empty the mind. Centering prayer was one way to contemplation and a good way, but it was not the only way. Clarke's article contextualized the search for contemplation and freed it from a one-track pursuit based on theoretical textbook definitions. Before this time I had a philosophically correct but pastorally deficient understanding of contemplation as imageless prayer. I thought "Ignatian contemplation," for example, which consists in reliving a gospel story, was a misnomer; the process was meditation, not con-templation. I did not cotton to Morton Kelsey's thesis that the imagination ruled the prayer practice in the church in the first millennium, and that abstract con-templation in the mode of John of the Cross was Johnny-come- lately in the second millennium. Kelsey argued this position in his popular The Other Side of Silence. To my mind, contemplation had no room for images; they Have we had a philosophically correct but pastorally deficient understanding of contemplation as imageless prayer? 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation belonged to discursive prayer, the way of meditation, which was a lesser species of mental prayer. But here was Tom Clarke connecting the imagination with centering, thereby broadening horizons in contemplative prayer. The three ways of centering were a significant help to me. Two years earlier, in 1975, I had made a thirty-day Ignatian retreat and came away with the resolution to spend an hour each morning in mental prayer. I was faithful to the hour, but I lacked method. My prayer was amorphous. I read and reflected, I pondered, mused, stirred affections, and made resolutions. I also centered and sat for long periods of silence. But there was no particular order in my pondering. After two years of struggle to be faithful to the hour without a clear methodology, my prayer had became dry and difficult. I "white-knuckled" my prayer, holding on to the bench to fill out the hour. All this may have been a species of the determinada determinacion of Teresa of Avila, but it was probably closer to the "zelus sine scientia corruit" of St. Bernard: "Zeal without knowledge destroys." How long could I hold on? Only the grace of God kept me from giving up on the hour. My efforts in the hour were the same as my practice in the two daily periods of formal meditation in my Carmelite community over the years. These two peri-ods were shorter, usually a half hour each, and I was able to handle them, though somewhat haphazardly. Because they were amorphous, I subsequently looked on them disparagingly. I thought I had wasted a lot of time in my mental prayer. I do not think that way now. I have come to take a more benign view. I realize with Woody Allen that ninety-five percent of life as well as of prayer is showing up. If we are there, putting in time with the Lord, the Lord will do the rest. We should not exag-gerate the role of method. Review for Retigious But method helps. The three ways of Tom Clarke supplied a format for my contemplative prayer. I would do twenty minutes of classical centering prayer, twenty minutes of reflection on the day's readings, and then after Mass twenty minutes ofjournaling. I did not char-acterize the imaginative parts of my prayer--the biblical meditation and consciousness examen--as contempla-tive, but I saw them as part of my pursuit of contempla-tion. Moreover, the active prayers gave permission for elements of imagination to enter my centering prayer. At this time I made a study of the prayer of St. Teresa of Avila in her early premystical years to determine how she employed the imagination in her beginning con-templative prayer.2 She later called this "practice of prayer" active recollection. In the paper I argued that the imagination played a significant role in her practice. Her prayer was her own making, hence active in form; but it was contemplative since her whole effort was to rest in the deep personal realization of the Divine Indwelling. This was her whole prayer. Teresa called it "re-presenting Christ within." Commentators sometimes incorrectly interpret this phrase to mean the imagina-tive recall of some mystery in Christ's life, such as of his being scourged at the pillar. The imaginative recall is part of the prayer, but not its heart, since the recall is only the refocusing of the person in moments of wan-dering. The remembrance of an image from the passion serves the same function as the holy word in centering prayer. The holy word does not detract from the con-templative character of centering prayer any more than the image in active recollection. I concluded my paper on Teresa by saying that her prayer was a mixture of imageless and imaged centering prayer. Today I agree that the term centering prayer should be reserved to the prayer of imageless dark faith. 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 3,60 This primary thrust, however, leaves room for some imagination in the practice of this prayer. Teresa's active recollection, which can rightly be called centering prayer, was both apophatic, that is, beyond imagining and thinking, and kataphatic, that is, with a role for the imagination. These insights into Teresa's prayer confirmed Clarke's suggestion and allowed me to accept a minor but real role for the imag-ination in my own practice and theorizing about con-templative prayer. As late as the year 2000, I was still experimenting with a role for the imagination in my contemplative prayer. I was on another long retreat at the Camaldolese monastery at Big Sur in California. For five weeks I prac-ticed Christian Meditation several times each day. I described three different experiences of my contempla-tive prayer in an article in Review for Religious in 2001.3 Two of the patterns I reported engaged the imagination to a small extent. These points about the imagination and contemplation are not irrelevant; they continue to occupy the attention of writers.4 The Move to Christian Meditation The centering and centering prayer so far described were the focus of my efforts at daily mental prayer for some fifteen years. I did not, however, practice it twice daily as was specified by Contemplative Outreach under the leadership of Thomas Keating. The two periods of twenty to thirty minutes, morning and evening, are essential for the discipline of centering prayer. These periods are catalysts for one's prayer life. They are like workouts in a physical-health regimen, and their role is to bring one's life to a deeper level in one's spirit. The outcome is the goal of contemplation in Carmelite terminology. Review for Religious In the mid 1990s I switched my prayer practice to Christian Meditation, a similar but different form of cen-tering developed by John Main, an Irish Benedictine from England. I did so mainly because I was not satisfied with my practice of classical centering prayer. Christian Meditation is promoted by the World Community for Christian Meditation, headed by Laurence Freeman OSB. The major difference between centering prayer and Christian Meditation is the holy word versus the mantra. "Holy word" and "mantra" are not synonyms. Their dif-ference specifies the two forms of contemplative prayer. Christian Meditation repeats the mantra, usually the biblical prayer "ma-ra-na-tha," which means "Come, Lord," from the begin-ning to the end of the prayer. The holy word, on the other hand, is not repeated continu-ously, but only as needed to renew the consent to the Divine Presence. The holy word expresses the will of the person to rest quietly, silently, in the Lord. The mantra, on the other hand, carries the prayer. John Main does not tire of saying that the mantra is the prayer. It creates the silence that is emptiness and open-ness before God, the silence that invites the Divine Presence. The mantra nurtures the beatitude "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8). Purity of heart and contemplation are the two hinges of the door of the mantra. The mantra is not magic, but a simple device to shut down ordinary rational activity in favor of silence. How would we explain the major difference between centering prayer and Christian Meditation as the holy word versus the mantra? 361 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 362 Since I switched my daily practice to Christian Meditation ten years ago, I have been faithful to the two times each day. My personal preference for Christian Meditation is not a condemnation of centering prayer; the same fruits and benefits are available in both forms. The choice of one or other of the two disciplines is a personal matter. I feel that centering prayer has a closer affinity with Teresa of Avila than with John of the Cross and that Christian Meditation has a closer affinity with John than with Teresa. I base these opinions on the sim-ilarity between active recollection and centering prayer, and a similarity of absolutes between the nada and the todo in John and the call to kenosis or self-emptying in Christian Meditation. In the final analysis the two approaches are more alike than different. For this reason I have studied them together and emphasized what is common to them. I have published several articles on the two forms, which I hope to gather into a book. The leaders in the two movements work closely together and see their ministries as parallel. One example of this close collaboration is a prayer center in Phoenix called the Cornerstone. It is sponsored by both movements, which share the same space in a former convent in the Carmelite parish of St. Agnes. The Cornerstone offers programs that are sometimes common to both groups and sometimes specific to one of them. It is lay orga-nized and lay directed. The Genius of Christian Meditation I have come to see Christian Meditation as a com-panion piece, a "how to" addition to the teaching of St. John of the Cross on the passage from meditation to contemplation. This area is one of his specialties. He defines in precise terms both meditation and contem-plation and why the transition from one state to the other Review for Religious can be difficult if not traumatic. Meditation for him is a rational activity, the work of the imagination and the discursive reason; it is active and self-directed. Contemplation is passive and receptive of the gift of the love and presence of God. The transition from one state to the other can be disturbing. Beginning contempla-tion may look like a step backward, even total loss. The old way of meditation is no longer appealing or even possible, and the new way of contemplation is not self-evident. The experience is the passive dark night of the senses. It is a great grace, but easily mistaken and open to misunderstanding. John gives his famous three signs to authenticate the state as well as detailed instruction on the conduct to be followed. In discursive meditation one deals with concrete indi-vidual acts, striving to remove the bad ones and to pro-mote good ones. So meditation is analyzing, evaluating, making choices and resolutions. The soul is like a win-dowpane, St. John says, and the work of meditation is to remove the smudges of bad habits and replace them with acts and habits that are bright with the light of Christ. The light of Christ is faith. The window pane is lighted up by faith-motivated activity. Over time the win-dow becomes clear and the soul purified in the matter of concrete choices. The light of faith shines through with fullness, simplicity, and wholeness. This is the light of contemplation. The light is always there, John of the Cross says. It is part of the state of grace. The perception of the light, however, is dependent on being rid of delib-erate sinful habits. John writes as follows: This light is never lacking to the soul, but, because of creature forms and veils that weigh on it and cover it, the light is never infused. If individuals would elimi-nate these impediments and veils and live in pure nakedness and poverty of spirit, as we will explain 64.4 200~ Larkin * From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 364 later, their soul in its simplicity and purity would be immediately transformed into simple and pure Wisdom, the Son of God. (Ascent 2.15.4) Thus these graces, when received, are "infused light and love," that is, infused contemplation. The way of con-templation is self-awareness of this new state of being. One simply opens one's eyes and sees and basks in the love and presence of God. At first there will be a going back and forth between meditation and contemplation. John of the Cross gives detailed advice on how to recognize the times for the one or the other, that is, when to continue to meditate and when to rest in the contemplative light and love. His teaching is renowned for its clarity and effectiveness for spiritual direction and retains its place in the life of every budding contemplative. But it is a complicated teaching. Along comes John Main who sees meditation and contemplation in conti-nuity with each other and as one process. The prayer or discipline of Christian Meditation is one dynamic that begins with the mantra and stays with it through multi-ple experiences of God's love. Contemplation is the awareness of Abba's love for me, who am bonded with the Son in the love of the Holy Spirit. The contemplative grows in the appreciation of this love and gets ever more deeply in touch with the knowledge and love that the Tr!nity showers on the world. There is communio, koinonia, participation in the reality of God and his cre-ation. This communion is unitive knowledge, of subject and subject inhering in each other. It is not dualistic knowledge, from the outside, leaving subject and object apart from one another. It is not any particular psycho-logical experience. There is at-oneness, a "common union" or communion, in which the Trinity and the human being enter into what Teresa of Avila called Review for Religious union, namely, "two things becoming one." Communion is the ontological reality; contemplation adds awareness and attention. Not every experience of Christian Meditation is infused contemplation such as John of the Cross has in mind. But every experience is communion and eventually will bring the fullness of contemplation. The commitment to Christian Meditation is a com-mitment to a way of life. The way is always the same; it is the way of the mantra from beginning to end. The goal of the prayer is without limits. One stops saying the mantra only when one is reduced to silence. These are moments of special grace that John of the Cross calls "oblivion" (Living Flame 3.3 5). One resumes saying the mantra as soon as the silence is recognized, because that is the sign that the special mystical grace has passed. John Main's program is one of utter simplicity. He does not stress, though he may acknowledge in theory, the abstract differences between meditation and con-templation or the different degrees of contemplation. But he treats them as one spiritual practice and says explicitly that meditation, meditative prayer, contem-plation, and contemplative prayer are all synonyms. No need to be concerned about essences, he seems to say; the important thing is to grow in purity of heart and recep-tivity to divine grace. The journey is the same in both John of the Cross and John Main, but it is described from different viewpoints. The older John presents objective theology in the manner of the scholastics; the younger John has made the turn to the subject, and his exposition is experiential and practical. Laurence Freeman remarks that John Main's purpose was to start people on the journey and let experience of the prayer teach the rest. The one task proposed is the mantra. The mantra does not deal with obstacles one by one or even supply building blocks for a spiritual edi- 64.4 2005 Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation 566 rice. It silences the mind, emptying it of its contents. The silence makes room for the Spirit to take over. "Be," says John Main," and you are in the Spirit."s The Spirit is already there with Father and Son in the Divine Indwelling. If the soul is silent and receptive, the Spirit will pray there beyond images and thoughts, in sighs too deep for words (Rm 8:26). The Spirit will do this because the soul is open and ready and God wants that mutual indwelling even more than the soul does who is sincerely seeking God. John Main's simple method frees the person so that the presence of the Trinity can come alive and be actualized. When there is space and freedom, the meditator is caught up in the prayer of Jesus. That prayer is the one and only prayer in the world since the Incarnation, because it is the love between Father and Son and envelops all of creation. Faithful meditators are woven into that salvit]c love. The journey with the Son to the Father will traverse the stages of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross. Christian Meditation will be the vehicle, the discipline to get one going and to help one stay on the path. These are astounding claims for Christian Meditation. Their jus-tification is the beatitude "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8). The silence of the mantra produces the purity of heart, and the reward of purity of heart is the love of God, of people, and of the world found in the gift of contemplation. How does silence accomplish this twofold task? By allowing one to escape from the false self by placing one beyond the toils of ego and the world it creates, by free-ing one from the imprisonment of false desires. This healing produces purity of heart. The new freedom allows one to go deeper into the spirit, the domain of the Trinity. The reality of this state is primary and comes before awareness and appreciation. The reality is called Review for Religious communio or participation in the life of God; the aware-ness is contemplation. The Spirit will give us contem-plation when we are ready. Contemplation is thus the outcome of faithful prac-tice of the mantra. Contemplation is the life of God received, the backdrop and engine of one's whole spiri-tual life. It is the life that animates one's community rela-tionships, one's ministry, and one's prayer. The short definition is the realization of God's love for us, "the love of God poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, who is given us" (Rm 5:5). Contemplation is the outcome of a faithful life. It means claiming what was there from the beginning. It is the Abba experience of Jesus. In his human life Jesus was filled with the Father's presence and love. Certain events like the baptism or the transfiguration were climactic experiences of that love, but Jesus abided in that love always. He looked out upon the world bathed in the Father's love. He was the "beloved Son," and in him the reign of God was estab-lished on the earth. That reign is the kingdom of God's presence and love. It is the resurrection experience. It fills the world with the grandeur of God. Christian Meditation promises this contemplation. Each practice will not necessarily bring forth a recog-nizable, reflexive experience of that love. But every exer-cise will put one a little more in touch with it and will be an experience of communion, of koinonia, of participation in that love. Transformation is taking place, slowly, incre-mentally, and the Christian is being formed in the Wisdom of God, the Son of God, in whom we live and move and have our being. Christian Meditation can indeed be one practical response of meditation and con-templation in our troubled times. 64.4 200Y Larkin ¯ From Centering Prayer to Christian Meditation Notes 1 Way 17 (1977): 12-22. 2 "Teresa of Avila and Centering Prayer," in Carmelite Studies 3 (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1984), pp. 203-209. 3 "An Experience of Christian Meditation," Review for Religious 60 (2001): 419-431. 4 See, for example, Brian V. Johnstone CSSR, "Keeping a Balance: Contemplation and Christian Meditation," Review for Religious 63 (2004): 118-133. s John Main: Essential Writings, ed. Laurence Freeman (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 2002), p. 105. Reflection Questions 1. In the light of Father Larkin's prayer journey, how would I describe some major moments in my own prayer growth? 2. "The commitment to Christian Meditation is a commit-ment to a way of life." What meaning do I give to this statement? 3. Let Larkin's story elicit a group's sharing about the joys and difficulties of praying. Review for Religious SEAN D. SAMMON Rekindling the Fire: Vocation Efforts Dear Brothers and all who cherish the charism of Marcellin Champagnat, It is early morning here in Rome. The last guests from Saturday evening's vigil celebration of the founder's feast have departed, the house is quiet, and the first hours of a new day are just beginning to unfold. What better time than the dawn of St. Marcellin's day to begin a letter to you about the awakening of vocations to his Little Brothers of Mary. Please join me in this continuing effort, this continuing prayer. Like so many of you, I believe that God continues to move the hearts of young people and call them to a variety of voca-tions within our church. So let us pledge to do our best to foster their generous response, while concentrating our efforts on those called to our way of life and mission as Little Brothers of Mary. After all, our Marist Constitutions and Sefin D. Sammon FMS, superior general of the Marist Brothers, writes again in epistolary form. His address is Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.P. 10250; 00144 Roma, Italy. calling 64.4 2005 Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire Statutes reminds us that to do so is a sign of our vitality as an institute. 3:70 Awakening Vocations Well-designed publications, attractive posters, lively and thoughtful presentations that deal with our life and ministry are all ways of cultivating vocations. They all help young people, their parents, and our church to have a better sense of who we are and what we do, and espe-cially to learn something about what we cherish and hold dear. When all is said and done, however, isn't it actually the lives of thousands of brothers over the almost two-hundred- year history of our institute that are our most effective means to awaken vocations? And so your voca-tional tale and mine are good places to start if we want to understand more fully just what we are trying to do. It does no harm to ask ourselves from time to time what first brought us to the life of a Little Brother of Mary and what keeps us here. My own story began when I met the small group of brothers who staffed the high school I attended in the heart of New York City. Even with the distance of years, I can still remember what it was about those men that captured my imagination and my heart. They were obvi-ously religious people, and they appeared happy in their work together and in their commitment to it. There was a spirit of sacrifice among them that somehow appealed to my adolescent soul. And there was passion. This element is at the heart of any vocation worth its salt. Though I may not have rec-ognized it at the time, I realize now that there were some very passionate men in that small group of brothers. In retrospect I can see that, in their love for Jesus Christ and his Good News and for us their students, they shared with us some of the very qualities that our founder Review for Religious inspired in the young men we know today as Francois, Laurent, Jean-Baptiste, Dominique, and Louis-Marie. Even now I find myself surprised at how subtly God was at work in my life, though I surely would never have used that language when I was fourteen. I have to say that I was blessed early in life to meet those men who took delight in helping a rather uncivi-lized crowd of young men to grow up and grow closer to God. These men--many were young themselves--were willing to waste time on us. Time, it was their only currency, and they shared it with us freely and gen-erously. During the years since then, perhaps in imitation or through the mystery of grace, some of my happiest moments have been with young people, sharing their world, their hopes and dreams, their fears and concerns, their ques-tions of faith. Vocation promotion :should neVer be undertaken solely for survival. Vocations for Mission and Not Survival Vocation promotion should never be .undertaken solely for survival. Nor is it simply a matter of numbers. Numbers are not necessarily a sign of viability, nor is age the best measure of vitality. Our zeal for mission, then, rather than a desire to survive "come what may," must be our reason for awakening vocations. This tradition goes back to Father Champagnat. The ever unfolding tale of our institute records that Marcellin's visit to the bedside of a dying teenager is what persuaded him to found a com-munity of brothers with this aim: to proclaim God's Good News to poor children and young people. We know the story well. Discovering that Jean-Baptiste Mongagne knew ¯ " 64.4 2005 Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire nothing about his faith, Marcellin instructed him, admin-istered what were then called "the last sacraments," and went on his way. Returning a short while later, he dis-covered that the lad had died. I have often wondered about our founder's thoughts and feelings as he returned home to Lavalla that evening. We can imagine his pace quickening. We know that almost immediately upon his arrival he met Jean-Marie Granjon, who had been a grenadier in Napoleon's army. Picture their conversation taking place on the bridge near what today is the Hermitage. For Marcellin the mission was clear, the reasons for founding a commu-nity of brothers evident. As they talked on that bridge, our founder's passion convinced the former soldier to join him and give his heart to a corporate adventure soon to be known as the Little Brothers of Mary. Marcellin loved the children and young people of his day. More than once he said, "l cannot see children with-out wanting to tell them how much Jesus Christ loves them, and how much I love them." In today's world many children and young people are the victims of war, human trafficking, and the streets. Denied an education and other basic human rights, they are in desperate need of hearing God's Good News. And so, I ask you, do you believe as I do that the mission of our institute is as urgent today as it was in Marcellin's day, and that it will remain so for the foreseeable future? If you do, then let us agree that the awakening of new vocations can no longer be a sideline attraction for you or for me. Instead, we need to develop a plan for promoting vocations and then put that plan into action. A First Set of Challenges A few challenges before we go on. First, a challenge to my brothers in the institute. If you and I want to make Review for Religious vocation promotion a top priority, most if not all of us will need to arrange our other commitments so as to free up twenty percent of our best time for that work. Why twenty percent? Because there is a lot to learn and a great deal of work to be done. We can all beg off, citing good reasons not to get involved. Lack of time, the demands of ministry, age--who among us has not heard that litany before? But, if you and I want a future for the mission and life of our institute, we need to avoid making excuses and, instead, commit ourselves enthusi-astically to promoting vocations. And now a word to my lay partners. I ask you to join us in our efforts to educate parents, the young people in your care and ours, and the church at large about who we Little Brothers of Mary are, what our life is, and what our ministries are. You know us and know what we cher-ish and hold dear. Help others come to know us as you do. And help us, too, by inviting young people to con-sider making our way of life their own. I have no hesi-tation in asking you to give these efforts top priority. All who share our founder's charism should eagerly promote vocations to the brotherhood he established. God's Good News remains to be proclaimed to more children and young people than we might imagine. And what happens if all of us--brothers and lay part-ners alike--decide not to make vocation promotion a major concern and not to give enough time to this impor-tant ministry? What are the consequences? Some would say that a failure to act and act decisively would dimin-ish the probability of a vital and vibrant future for our way of life and ministry. Others would be harsher. If we fail to act, they would tell us, we probably do not deserve a future. In 1822 Marcellin Champagnat faced a vocation cri-sis, the first in the history of our institute. And how did 373 64.4 200~ Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire he respond? By taking action, beginning with his pil-grimage to the chapel of Our Lady of Pity. We do well today to follow his example. Today more than a few peo-ple use the term vocation culture to describe an environ-ment in which a call or vocation can take root and flourish. You and I can foster such a culture by believing that vocations to Marcellin's Little Brothers of Mary exist today and that with God's grace and our human efforts we can find and cultivate them. A Pastoral Plan for Awakening Vocations A pastoral plan to awaken vocations can help us awaken vocations to our way of life and ministry. A num-ber of provinces and districts already have a well- A ,pastoral: p!an to awaken vocations can help Us awaken, vocations to our way of life and ministry: designed plan in place. Time will tell of its effec-tiveness. Other provinces and districts can take time or make time to develop a plan. The plan should be comprehensive and include in its details the province or district, all the mem-bers, each community, and every ministry--and, of course, all the others who share Marcellin's charism and want to help promote vocations. In drawing up any plan, you and I are better off con-centrating on what can be done rather than lamenting things we cannot change. In some parts of the world, for example, families are smaller than in the past, young people have far more vocational options to consider, and they may make their life commitments at a later age. Neither you nor I can do much to alter these realities. We can, though, invite young men to our way of life and ministry once again, and we can open our homes and Review for Religious hearts to them. We can also help them and others to understand all that has happened in religious life and in our institute during the forty years since Vatican Council II. Let us do what we can, and not keep wringing our hands about what we cannot change. In making plans we must be sure they are adapted to the culture in which we live. A universal pastoral plan for vocations is unrealistic. Differences exist between regions, and customs vary. What is quite acceptable in one part of our world is looked upon with suspicion in another. And so I offer below just a few ideas to get your thinking started. Be as creative as you can. And do not forget to include in the plan exactly whatyou plan to do personally. a. Province or District Provinces and districts should have at least one full-time vocation promoter, but everyone should promote vocations. The full-time promoter should help the oth-ers to do what they can. There should be a well-designed program that explains contemporary religious life to lay men and women. Some of our brothers will tell you that they feel shaken by the changes in our way of life during the last four decades. In that case, just imagine how shaken the average Catholic may be. In some countries, for example, people feel betrayed and confused about why we no longer staff the local school and do not live in the brothers' house next to the church. A good program could clarify the reasons behind such changes. It could also show that everyone--the laity, bishops and priests, and men and women religious themselves--has a respon-sibility for recruiting new members for religious con-gregations. Some among these groups appear reluctant to do so. I cannot help believing that such reluctance may stem from a lack of understanding about our life today. Catholic parents deserve special attention. At one 64.4 2005 Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire 376[ time they were great allies of ours in awakening voca-tions. Today many parents are confused about religious life, about why and how people are still living it. Where their trust has been eroded, we must work to restore it and enlist their aid once again. Our program could include offering an adult educa-tioncourse in a local parish, or as in-service training for faculties in our schools, or as part of parent-teacher con-ferences, or as an Advent or Lenten series. Some could write articles for their parish bulletin or diocesan news-paper. Others could say a few words during or at the end of Mass on Sunday. The means are not quite as impor-tant as the message: our life and mission as brothers is alive and well and ready to receive new members. The work described above could be coordinated by the full-time province vocation promoter. He should not, however, take on these tasks for a local community sim-ply because its members do not want to. His time is bet-ter spent persuading them that the tasks mentioned are rightly theirs and that they have the resources to accom-plish them. Finally, the media and the internet, where avai]able, have great potential to awaken vocations. Where a province web page exists, the vocation pro-moter should make sure that the topic of vocations appears on it and is effectively presented. b. Local Communities Local communities have many opportunities to pro-mote vocations. First of all, though, they should as a group agree to a common plan that ensures that their work will be effective and that nothing will be uselessly duplicated. Prayer must be part of any community's plan. Along with this, three or four times a year a community might invite groups of young people from their school or parish to an open house that is focused on religious life. Such a visit, particularly if it is well planned, can com- Review for Religious municate more about religious life than a series of lec-tures would. Another community might invite parishioners of all ages for a time of prayer, some refreshments, and some friendly conversation, particularly about religious voca-tions. Many people are willing and ready to participate and help, but they need to be asked. A brother's involve-ment in a parish's youth ministry program can be the occasion for young people to learn more about broth-ers and their life. Lay people involved in youth ministry, especially if they know us well, can also raise the topic or answer questions the young may have about religious life. A community might also arrange to print a pamphlet describing our life and mission and place it in the vestibule of the local parish church. In places where the local newspaper or television station does human-inter-est pieces, one or two members of the community could commit themselves to write an article or be interviewed about our life and ministry. c. Our Works Visibility! That should be the yardstick for measur-ing efforts to promote vocations in the institutions where we serve. Posters, pamphlets, days set aside to present the history, life, and mission of the Little Brothers of Mary--all these should be regular fare in any school or social-service project in which we are involved. Our col-leagues and those whom we serve should know clearly just what it means to be one of Marcellin's brothers. While being happily aware that our schools, parishes, and agencies touch others' lives well beyond themselves, we must not overlook those with whom we share min-istry. There may, for example, be lay faculty members in our schools who have given thought, to religious life and our life in particular, but just do not know how to [377 64.4 200Y Sammon ¯ Rekindling the Fire 378 bring up the subject. We should make sure that oppor-tunities exist to discuss the matter, and that they exist in abundance. d. Each Brother and Lay Partner If you asked me to suggest one thing that you as indi-viduals could do to promote vocations, I would answer immediately: Invite young men that you know to think about making our life and ministry their own. Such an invitation by a brother is the factor mentioned most often by young persons and by those further along in years as well. So I say to my brothers: Awaken vocations, find persons who in good time can replace yourselves. And to my lay partners I say: Awaken vocations so as to ensure a vibrant partnership between brothers and yourselves. Without enough brothers, partnership with you is not possible. To all, I offer this reminder: Personal prayer is most important. So pray for those who have religious life on their minds. Pray for them daily. Pray for them by name. If writing is your gift, put it to good use by writing about our life and mission. And if music, or art, or the media world is your passion, use it to awaken vocations. Teach about our life if teaching is your talent; encourage vocations if your gift is to motivate people. Above all, be creative in planning to awaken vocations. Keep asking yourselves how to use your God-given skills to promote vocations. Give twenty percent of your best time to the effort, and do not forget to invite. Blessings and affection, Se~in D. Sammon FMS Superior General Review for Religious Reflection Questions 1) Spend some time thinking about young people that you know. They might be members of your family, the children of friends, students, those with whom you work in ministry, young people in the parish, or elsewhere. Once you have spent some time thinking about the young people in your life, please turn your attention to the questions below. 1. What is it that you most admire about the emerging generation? Take a moment to explain your answer more fully. 2. What is it about the young people you know that most baffles you? Once again, please take a moment to explain. 3. What qualities do you look for in a young man today when considering candidates for our Marist brother-hood? 2) Spend some time thinking about what you might do individually to awaken vocations during this year ahead. What skills can you bring to the task, what will be helpful to young people, particularly those with an interest in our Institute, how can you best convey the many dimensions of our life rather than one or another? Yes, take some time to pray, seek to understand what God is asking of you this year in terms of awakening vocations, and then turn your attention to the ques-tions below. 1. As you look ahead to the coming year, what steps will you take personally to awaken Vocations? 2. What will you do the first month, during the first three months, during the first half of the year? 3. Is there a way you can combine your efforts with oth-ers to have even greater .influence awakening vocations during this time of grace? Please explain. 64.4 2005 LEO J. HERIOT Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth 380[ Jr~hn Paul II's apostolic exhortation on religious life minded us religious of our founders' charisms and what they offer to us, their followers: "Consecrated per-sons live Jbr God and from God, and precisely for this reason they are able to bear witness to the reconciling power of grace, which overcomes the divisive tenden-cies present in the human heart and in society" (Vita con-secrata 41). And in the same vein we have words that mean much to persons consecrated to a mission: "In the image of Jesus, the beloved Son 'whom the Father con-secrated and sent into the world,' those whom God calls to follow him are also consecrated and sent into the world to imitate his example and to continue his mis-sion" (VC 72). The young John Bosco, the son of Francis and Margherita Bosco of Becchi in Turin, had a unique expe-rience at the age of nine, and we can think his mission Leo J. Heriot SDB lectures in Salesian history and also teaches pas-toral psychology and Scripture in Moamoa Theological College; P.O. Box 9226; Apia, Western Samoa. Review for Religious took root at this very time. He had a strange but com-pelling dream, and this dream would return to him often and remind him of this mission of his. Each vocation is unique, and each calling is special, but for God to call a boy of nine and show him his mission in symbolic form is very special. He told about his dream in his own terms, couched in his own plain language, but it seems that the Lord was surely present in it: When I was about nine years old I had a dream that left a profound impression on me for the rest of my life. I dreamed that I was near my home, in a very large playing field where a crowd of children were having fun. Some were laughing, some playing, and not a few cursing. I was so shocked at their language that I jumped into their midst, swinging wildly with my arms and shouting at them to stop. At that moment a man appeared, nobly dressed, with an imposing appearance. He was dressed in white, and his face radi-ated such light that I could not look directly at him. He called me by name. "John," he said, "you will have to win over these boys of yours not with punches, but with gentleness and kindness. So now begin to show them that sin is ugly and virtue is attractive." At this stage John said, "I am still only a boy. How can I influence these children for the better?" But the man of his dream told him that he was to change these boys by acquiring knowledg~ and being obedient to the Lord. As the young John watched, he saw these boys change into goats, dogs, cats, bears, and a variety of other animals. The person of his dream told him, "This is your field where you must work, and to carry out your task you must become humble, steadfast, and strong!" As he looked again, he saw these wild animals change into lambs. In his confusion John Bosco asked the majestic lady who appeared next to him to explain the meaning of this strange thing in his life. She told him, "In time 381 64.4 200~ Heriot ¯ Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth When he was ordained a priest on 5 June 1841, he wondered what his future work would be. 382 everything will be made clear to you, and you will under-stand your apostolate." The next morning during breakfast John told his dream. His brothers scoffed at his simplicity, and every-one, including his mother and grandmother, had differ-ent explanations for this dream. Joseph, his older brother, said he would become a sheep farmer, and Anthony, his step-brother, told him he would probably become the leader of gang of robbers. His mother suggested that he might become a priest, and his wise old grandmother told him not to take any notice of dreams!. This dream when he was nine influenced John Bosco all his life. His apostolate and his system of education would be based on the reflections of this dream. When he was ordained a priest on 5 June 1841, with little or no fuss about the ordination, he wondered what his future work would be and how he was supposed to achieve the mission planned for him when he was a little boy. He was offered one or another parish or chaplaincy in Turin. Uncertain of his choice, he went to his spiritual director, Father Joseph Cafasso, and placed before him the various proposals. Strange as it may seem, his guide told him to go to the Convitto Ecdesiastico, a residential center where priests studied spirituality and moral the-ology according to the teaching of St. Alphonsus Liguori. It was not an academic institute so much as a pastoral center w.here a lecture was given morning and evening and the rest of the day was taken up with priestly min-istrations to people in prison, to families in their neigh-borhoods, and to patients in hospitals, especially the Review for Religious hospice founded by Canon Cottolengo (now St. Joseph Benedict Cottolengo). Later on, Don Bosco would write about his experience in this clerical convitto: "Here I learned what it means to be a priest." Turin in the 1840s was a town filled with young per-sons looking for work. There had been a drought for a number of years, and poverty in the villages had forced many boys and young men into the town seeking employment. Employment was limited, and before long many of them were stealing food or money to survive. They were coming from Lombardy, Savoy, and as far away as Switzerland. Needless to say, with the influx of these young men, the prisons became full. In Turin there were four main prisons, and they were crowded with boys from thirteen to eighteen. Their crimes were more from necessity than malice. Don Bosco made it a point to visit these prisons, tak-ing with him bread, sweets, and tobacco. The conditions were appalling: overcrowded, unsanitary. Loudmouths and foulmouths aired their hatred when these priests came to visit. Many priests from the Convitto Ecclesiastico found it hard to visit the prisoners living in such sub-standard conditions. One described the boys in prison as caged animals, often aggressive and impervious to the kindness of friendship. In his first visit to the prison, where the juveniles were mixed together with the hard-ened men, Don Bosco was treated with disdain. Just after Easter in 1842, however, he invited some prisoners to make a retreat. His friendly concern was slowly seeping into the hearts of the detainees. Some came around, but the going remained difficult. Still, he persevered with his plans, even with the comings and goings. Boys in one prison might be released all of a sudden, perhaps only to be apprehended again and given a sentence in another prison. 383 64.4 2005 Heriot ¯ Don Bosco's Continuing Mission to Youth 384] The success of this retreat becomes evident in what Don Bosco managed to obtain for the boys. After the retreat he asked the official in charge, Urban Rattazzi, whether he could take the prison's juveniles to Stupingi for a picnic. Rattazzi agreed, provided that some police-men went along. Don Bosco bargained with him for another arrangement, no policemen. At eight o'clock, .:when the prison gates opened, the guards said to one another, "Well, this is the last we will see of some of these 260 wretches!" But, at the roll call at the end of the day, all had returned--showing that a little bit of kindness brings out the best in the worst of children. Another of Don Bosco's apostolates was in the neigh-borhoods of Turin. Industries were growing there, and on the building sites boys as young as ten or twelve were often seen lugging heavy loads of bricks and mortar on poorly erected scaffolding. Don Bosco would argue with the contractors, appealing for the boys' safety. When he first went to the building sites, he would hear the boys sneering and snickering as he passed: Ecco lo prete, "Look at the [good~for-nothing] churchman!" He would reply, No, un sacerdote, "No, a priest [who sacrifices and blesses]." He would invite these young boys to his house on Sunday, and many would come for the meal and the instruction he offered them. As a matter of fact, many of these boys became his first Salesians. Don Bosco had enormous persuasive power with the young. Don Bosco's third apostolate in these early years of his priesthood was in Canon Cottolengo's hospice, the Little House of Divine Providence. True love was found there. Don Bosco's special interest was in the section dedicated to the young. Many young persons coming from villages had become the victims of syphilis and gon-orrhea. As a result of these sexually transmitted diseases, young sufferers often finished their lives in this hospice. Review for Religious Don Bosco would often put his head in his hands and say in humble prayer, "What can I do to help these young people avoid these diseases that are symptoms of a loose society?" One wonders whether the spirit that in the 19th cen-tury motivated St. John Bosco--founder of the Salesians and, as Pope John Paul II called him, the Father and Teacher of Youth--can be found once again in a world that seems to have forgotten the importance of heart for educating hearts. Education without love is incomplete and can only end in frustration. Compensation Foliage fallen from its color's weight leaves emptiness in the treetops. I look up through gaps in their circuitry and see more of heaven than I could in June. And now at night as I lie in bed. the highest branches are abloom with stars. Patricia L. Schnapp RSM 64.4 2005 religious life ELIZABETH McDONOUGH The Council as Catalyst perspective W-hen I entered the convent, John xxIII was pope, and John E Kennedy was president of the United States. He was the first Catholic to be elected president. The USSR's Nikita Khrushchev had already been on the cover of Time maga-zine holding Sputnik, the first successful unmanned spacecraft. Vatican Council II had completed its first session, but no documents had yet been issued. The city of Berlin in what was East Germany was divided by a massive and formidable wall that could be breached only at the risk of one's life. The French had recently withdrawn from Vietnam, and some of my high school classmates had already fled to Canada to avoid the military draft as American involve-ment in that war began to escalate. JFK had already experienced the Bay of Pigs fiasco, and Elizabeth McDonough OP, our Canonical Counsel colum-nist, has written a number of articles for us. She holds the Bishop Griffin Chair of Canon Law at the Pontifical College Josephinum; 7625 North High Street; Columbus, Ohio 43235. Revie'w for Religious the Cuban missile crisis had been concluded without a nuclear war. Martin Luther King Jr. had very recendy delivered his now famous "I have a Dream" speech at the Lincoln Memorial. Elvis Presley had appeared on the Ed Sullivan show, the Beatles had finished their first frenzied foray into the USA, and Betty Friedan's Feminine Mystique had iust been published. Within ten weeks of my entering the convent, our nearly one hundred postulants and novices were at choir practice early on a Friday afternoon in November when we heard that JFK had been critically wounded in an assassination attempt in Dallas. We said a prayer and continued singing, unaware that he was already dead. Of the thirty-four postulants who entered the same time I did, twenty-two received the habit almost a year later. No one seemed to think it unusual that so many of the postulants who had entered nearly a year before had now departed. By the time Vatican Council II had concluded in December 1965, Malcolm X had been gunned down, and the Watts riots in Los Angeles were a matter of history. Less than two and a half years later, Martin Luther King was assassinated in Memphis. Riots immediately left burnt-out buildings, mounds of rubble, and shattered lives in much of the nation's capital as well as in other major cities across the country. Two months after that, in June 1968, Robert Kennedy was assassinated while cam-paigning in Los Angeles. Later that summer, antiwar riots disrupted the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. That same year, Mary Daly of Boston College published The Church and the Second Sex, and Richard Nixon, who had lost the election to JFK in 1960, became president of the United States. By July 1969, when America placed a man on the 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 388 moon, only a dozen of the original thirty-four postu-lants were still members of my religious community. One month later, on the weekend in August when I professed first vows, a three-day "Music and Arts Festival" was held on a rural farm in upstate New York near the small town of Woodstock. The admission price was $6 a day. The following spring, in May 1970, students at Kent State University protesting the Vietnam War were shot and killed by National Guardsmen. In that same year, for the first time in anyone's memory of our commu-nity's hundred and forty years of existence, no one pro-fessed first vows. The decade of the 1960s was considered by some as possibly the best of times, and by others as positively the worst of times. For American Catholic sisters, it may simply have been, on the whole, the least auspicious of times for the church to suggest that we reassess every aspect of our lives. From the vantage point of nearly half a century, it seems that Pope John's basic intent in convoking the Second Vatican Council in 1959 may have been to initi-ate a radical renewal of all of Christian life. In other words, he may have envisioned a total conversion of mind and heart on the part of all Catholics and even all Christians. It seems he may have intended to sow the seeds of a personal and collective, intellectual and voli-tional metanoia in all believers, so that what Jesus Christ bequeathed to the church might further the salvation of humanity more effectively than it had the first two thou-sand years. Recall that by January 1959, when the council was first announced, the world had just witnessed the most continuously violent, humanly devastating half century in recorded history. From his vantage point, Pope John possibly considered it high time--or time well overdue-- Review for Religious for the whole church to reassess its meaning and role and self-understanding in face of the crying needs of humanity. Recall that Vatican II was convoked before the Berlin Wall appeared almost overnight, before the Cuban mis-sile crisis, before America's seventeen-year involvement in the Vietnam War, before the multiple assassinations and urban violence of the 1960s, before humanity first looked at the world from the moon, before the first ter-rorist attack at the 1972 Olympics, and before the suc-cessful cloning of animals. The council was convoked before the resolution of South African apartheid, before Sarajevo, before Rwanda, before Pol Pot in Cambodia, before Tiananmen Square in China, before the Lockerbie crash in Scotland, before Somalia, before the Gulf War, before Oklahoma City, before Columbine, and long before 9/11. It was convoked before the Iraq War, before Darfur, before the Beslan grade school massacre, before the impact of global warming, and before the global impact of AIDS. What, indeed, we might ask, would John xxIII pos-sibly think now? Perhaps much the same as he was think-ing in 1959, namely, that the church still needs to take a genuinely new look at itself and at the rest of reality in light of the salvation wrought by Christ's life-death-res-urrection- ascension. Whatever any of us may think, say, hope, or regret regarding the Second Vatican Council, few even suspect that the positive potential of its origi-nal intent has yet been realized. This is in part because much more time is needed theologically and practically to assess and to internalize what it said and did. But the council's unrealized potential is also, at least in part, the result, of widely divergent interpretations of its content and meaning which have been categorically co-opted and systematically disseminated by clearly dichotomous seg- 64.4 2005 McDonougb * The Coundl as Catalyst A catalyst initiates a reaction and enables to,proceed under milder conditions than otherwise possible. 390 ments of ecclesial society. For nearly four decades, both sides of this ecclesial dichotomy have consciously sus-tained their combative engagement at all levels of church life. And they have done so with an energy and efficiency that has left most Catholics exhausted and not really very much renewed at all. Meanwhile, any genuine intellectual and volitional conversion that might more effectively bring Christ's salvation to the complex human and spir-itual needs of our battered world has not been afforded a fair chance to begin in earnest. So it seems to me. The title of this article refers to the council as a cat-alyst. A catalyst initiates a reaction and enables it to pro-ceed under milder conditions than otherwise possible. The council did initiate a reaction. When the council began, sis-ters in my community were all known by the names given them when they entered the novitiate. This change initi-ated us into an ego-effacing formation deliberately created to foster an encompassing new way of life. All our sisters lived in convents with local superiors and did things in order of rank from old-est to youngest according to when we had made profes-sion. We all ate in silence while someone read an article or book judged by the superior to be of some signifi-cance (which was often unknown to us who listened as we ate). We all ate whatever was served, though exceptions were made for personal illness. Some sisters seemed to have some personal illness rather regularly. A few seemed to have some personal illness for as long as anyone could remember. We generally washed our own dishes "at table" in a large dishpan of initially clean, soapy water. Review for Religious With rare exception, we never ate at unscheduled times and never ate outside of our own refectory (our term for dining room). We all had three habits: one for Sunday, one for our everyday apostolate, and one for work. Unlike men's reli-gious communities, wherein a habit could often be con-veniently donned or doffed, our habits were the only clothes we had. They were worn at all times except when we went to bed. We were fully "habited" at prayer, at our apostolate, at table, when working in the garden, when doing heavy housecleaning, and even when occa-sionally sledding or playing basketball with sisters around our age during a school break. Depending on where we were stationed (that is, where we were assigned to live and work), the work we did could be teaching a class of fifty or more students, peeling bushels of fruit, running industrial laundry equip-ment, washing dishes for as many as five hundred people, using large, heavy, institutional machines to wax wooden floors that had already been waxed far too many times before, or cleaning with toothbrushes the metal grids on the edges of three flights of stairs. This kind of work was not punishment. It was simply the way we took good care of things. We did almost all of the work ourselves, and almost everything was in perfect condition most of the time. We never wasted anything. Wrapping paper and ribbons, boxes and jars, aluminum foil and plastic containers--all were saved to be used again and again. Our families would joke about our reusing everything and called it "nunny." Nowadays many people do it but they call it ecology. We ordinarily awakened to a bell shortly after four o'clock and almost every minute of every day was sched-uled with some event or responsibility. We all retired at a specified time, usually no later than nine-thirty. 64.4 200Y McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 392 Permission was needed for exceptions. After the "lights out" time, some sisters read books in bed under the cov-ers with a flashligl~t. Our rooms were rather small (about 8 x 14 ft.), but they usually had everything we really needed. Back then what we really needed were a bed, a bedside table, a desk, a bookcase, a chair, a lamp, a closet, and a small dresser. Every room had a crucifix on the wall and a little bottle of holy water on the dresser. We did not hang other things on the walls, and we did not have nicknacks. In some of our convents, a few sisters lived in dormitories with curtains separating generally equal spaces which contained mostly the same furniture. In some convents the rooms might have a small sink and a small easy chair. We had common bathroom facilities, but often the superior's room had a private bath. Superiors also had a small, separate office, and the house treasurer usually did too. We could write to our family once a week. Family members could visit occasionally, oftener and more briefly if they lived nearby, less often and longer if they lived farther away. On these visits we never had meals together. We ate in the refectory with the sisters, and our families ate in the guest dining room. Any gifts our family brought were given immediately to the superior, who transferred the best of everything to the chaplain or the pastor if they were things a priest could use. We all regularly asked permission from the superior for doing such things as opening our mail, using the books at our disposal, and having necessary personal toi-let articles. About once a month the superior conducted a meeting of all the sisters which was known as "chapter of faults." This had been a salutary monastic practice of publicly admitting to the sisters with whom you lived your own externally manifest foibles and failures and then asking forgiveness. But by the 1960s this practice Review for Religious had been truly trivialized into merely mentioning some fault from a previously prepared list of supposedly light or medium or serious ones. They ranged from leaving something out of place to talking during "times of silence." Things we actually did or failed to do that really annoyed one another were mostly not on the list. It did not matter much what a sister mentioned from the list, because the sisters you lived with were already very much aware of your external foibles and failures. Some were even aware of your internal ones. What we actually did or failed to do that really annoyed each other was seldom on the list, - - but these provided the ever-present, unrelenting, mutual sandpaper of our lives together. Every sister knew it, all too well. Most sisters in local-community convents had sev-eral jobs besides teaching. Shortly after first profession I taught five classes of math a day (algebra, geometry, trigonometry) at a co-ed high school of a thousand stu-dents, was in charge of the bookstore (textbooks, sta-tionery supplies), was responsible for the convent cars (keeping them clean, full of gas, and fixed when neces-sary), was convent treasurer ("qualified" because I taught math), and traveled a hundred miles each Saturday for M.A. studies financed by a National Science Foundation grant. What I was doing was not unusual, it seems to me. But we were much younger then. When Vatican II began, the religious community I entered had 720 members. It owned and operated two colleges for women, three highly successful high schools, and a small hospital. All of these had a sister as presi- Most sisters in local-community convents had several jobs besides teaching. 64.4 200~ McDonough ¯ The Coundl as Catalyst 3941 dent, principal, or CEO. All of these had at least a dozen sisters serving in various capacities. We also staffed sev-eral large Catholic high schools and more than three dozen Catholic grade schools in various dioceses in five different states. We were known for being quite good at what we did, and it seemed to me we were. We related professionally to the lay people with whom we worked, but we never really socialized with them. They were called "seculars," and the sisters greatly outnumbered them. By the time I entered, because learning and teach-ing were central to our heritage, it was rare for a sister to be assigned to teach without having at least a B.A. degree. Many sisters already had or were studying for master's or doctoral degrees. Except for those studying, we all came "home" to the motherhouse and worked there or nearby during the summer months. In mid August year after year, we received any new assignments by hearing a list read aloud to all of us assembled in the motherhouse chapel. We were not consulted about the assignments. The very next day we were all on our way to this or that convent in this or that town, each of us with all our belongings. Back then, those belongings always fitted into one large trunk plus, for some, a small suitcase. The convent in which you landed in those days might be subject to the occasional but dreadfully harmful tyranny of a superior who probably should never have had a position of authority. In those days the mother general--the sister in charge of the whole congregation, who herself was elected--appointed all the local superi-ors. It was only in the mid 1970s that sisters in our local houses got to elect their own superior. The election of the mother general took place every four years at a for-mal, solemn gathering called the general chapter. All the sisters voted for delegates to the chapter, and the dele- Review for Religqous gates elected the mother general and the four councilors who assisted her. Besides the elections, these delegates also made decisions about other things that concerned the whole community. While the chapter was in progress, the rest of us usually did not know much about what was going on, although a few always seemed to know most of what was going on everywhere. In local communities, some superiors treated author-ity as a matter of control and more or less trampled on the sensibilities of others in the house, except for favorites of theirs (for whatever reason). In retrospect, it seems that the favorites were being groomed to become future superiors. Many of them did. The nonfavorites were thankful when they were assigned to another house or when the superior went "out of office." Some incom-petent superiors, recycled in a sort of "lateral arabesque," wreaked havoc again on sisters elsewhere. Such superi-ors were the exception, not the norm. But they were really notable exceptions if they were your own supe-rior. The convent in which you landed could also fall under the diplomatically gloved but predominantly iron hand of a local pastor who controlled everything, from the horarium (our daily schedule) to the purse strings. Back then, financial remuneration for sisters was a pittance. In the early 1970s I was among twenty-eight sisters in a city with one of the highest per capita incomes in the country. Two dozen of us had degrees, some even graduate degrees. We taught in a large diocesan high school or in a nearby parish grade school or worked in a diocesan office. One sister was a full-time cook for the convent. Though not many of us knew how to cook for twenty-eight people, we took turns helping to cook on weekends. Every sister in the convent received a salary of $1,800 per year. Of course, the convent and its mainte-nance were paid for by the parish or school, and we had 64.4 200Y McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 396 three cars for our use, paying only the cost of gas for community trips. At that time there was rarely any for-mal provision for sisters' healthcare, but most necessary medical services were donated by local doctors and den-fists. No one ever even thought of retiring, so no retire-ment funds were ever requested or received. It all "worked" fiscally because there were so many of us and we were so young and lived so frugally. I cannot say we went without necessities and must admit we also had occasional extra amenities that were probably unavailable to most of our own families. Remarkably--or perhaps not so remarkably--we usually sent a monthly surplus to the motherhouse. In that way, convents which had difficulties in making ends meet could be given sup-plements from the congregation's general fund. The gen-eral fund also supported our older sisters when they were no longer able to work, but every sister worked for as long as she could. In retrospect it seems that, if we had received higher stipends, we could have recycled much more of that town's wealth into poorer schools and parishes elsewhere through our sisters' donated services. Like most sisters' communities, we also operated schools where many parents simply could not pay any tuition at all. Wherever you lived back then, ever-present poten-tial pitfalls of our life together centered on the possible overemphasis on externals or a possibly excessive legalism in observing regulations as supposedly indicative of what constituted a "good sister." I label them potential pitfalls because, in retrospect, there may have been only three basic ways for us to deal constructively with the exter-nals and the legalism. These realities seemed to domi-nate the entire ethos of Catholicism in America before Vatican II, and they certainly fit all too comfortably into the total ambience of religious life. But, to be construc- Review for Religious tive about it, you could basically only comply with the externals or you could identify with them or you could try to internalize their meaning. Whether or not a sister was really prone to legalism was somehow related to which of the above options predominated for her. Back then, it seemed that just about any sister who wanted to stay in the convent could learn to comply with just about everything that was asked of her, and most did. Even if you did not like doing this or that, you could usually appear pretty good at doing it. Even novices could learn to comply externally most of the time, or at least enough of the time to be admitted to first profes-sion. At another level, back then it seemed to me that most sisters rather readily identified with the communal importance of what was expected of us for the sake of the bigger picture of who we were together. And most somehow sensed that who we were together was immensely greater than the sum of the parts. So the value of accepting certain externals of our collective identity, such as living and praying and working together or wear-ing the same habit or engaging in common practices, was eventually mostly integrated as part of the overall package that both strengthened and assuaged the ins and outs of the day-to-day reality of our lives. But, at still another level, back then it seemed to me that you could personally and spiritually internalize what-ever you did as fitting somehow in the adventure of hav-ing promised your whole life to God no matter what. It also seemed to me that some sisters, mostly older ones, had actually internalized what it might really mean to live our life within the ambience of all the externals but with a balance and healthiness that had no hint of legal-ism. They seemed to understand that none of the exter-nals were the essentials. They also seemed to understand 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst 398 that all we did was intended to foster somehow the life we publicly professed and interiorly hoped to live. I think we all truly hoped to be good, maybe even holy. And I think we all truly wanted to do good, no matter what we actually happened to do. From the deeper, longer, wiser perspective of these seasoned sisters, the externals seemed to matter less, even though they were faithful in observ-ing them. For sure, very early on, I knew I definitely wanted to belong someday to the last group just described. In the midst of all this, it also seemed to me that most of us were happy and productive most of the time. We mostly tried to be prayerful women as best we knew how and to be responsively obedient in sometimes diffi-cult circumstances. For the most part, we had fun with one another, good clean fun, much more often than onlookers may ever have suspected. For the most part, we were quite competent at what we did in significant areas of education, study, and learning. And the regimenta-tion of much of our life even afforded some sisters the opportunity of serving others much more effectively than they might have done on their own. Somehow, in com-munities of women religious forty years ago, in some real way, we really were family to one another, warts and all. And through it all, perhaps in spite of it all, we were definitely not all alike, and we knew it. We knew that no visible similarities rendered us actually similar. But we knew, too, that in many ways all was not well with the way we lived and that much could or should be effec-tively changed for the better. From the moment conciliar documents were avail-able in English, the sisters in my community enthusias-tically read and studied them. The promulgation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy in December 1963 had enormous positive consequences for American Review for Religious Catholic sisters. Until then, other than Mass, prayer in common for sisters in communities with post- Reformation origins often consisted entirely of medita-tion in common, various litanies~ multiple rosaries, and numerous devotional prayers composed by whoever had founded them. In these communities the meditation topic was usually chosen by the superior, announced the evening before, and had an obligatory format usually fol-lowing standard steps adapted from Ignatian spiritual-ity or from a variation of the 17th-century French school of spirituality. Sisters in communities tracing their her-itage to before the Reformation usually prayed a short-ened "little office" consisting of psalms, with antiphons and responses in honor of the Sacred Heart, the Blessed Virgin Mary, or others. These communities also prayed the rosary in common, but usually had fewer litanies and devotional prayers. Meditation was always in chapel together at an early hour, but a common meditation topic or specific method set by the superior would not usu-ally have been obligatory. Before the council, for the most part, only clergy were considered as officially praying the official Divine Office in the name of the church and as part of its offi-cial worship. Indeed, even if nonclergy prayed the same Divine Office from the same books, it was not considered participation in the church's liturgical prayer. Very soon, however, sisters in communities of any heritage began chorally praying the psalms of the breviary and finding this practice to be immensely more meaningful than their previous devotions. The promulgation of the Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation in November 1965 also proved particularly significant for American Catholic sisters, who responded instantly and enthusiastically to new or renewed biblical studies. But no conciliar document altered the reality of reli- 64.4 200Y McDonough ¯ The Council as Ca~alys~ gious life for sisters in apostolic congregations in the United States more than the Decree on the "Accommodata Renovatione" of Religious Life promulgated in October 1965. The Latin phrase accommodata renovatione is delib-erately retained here, not to be pedantic, but because this cryptic description of what was apparently intended for religious life is not easily translated and because one common translation--"adaptation and renewal"--is sim-ply not correct. This erroneous translation, however, was at first used so frequently that dichotomous expla-nations arose describing "adaptation" as pertaining to external elements of religious life and "renewal" as per-taining to internal, spiritual matters of religious life. The title actually called for the entire reality of religious life to be renewed or restored or refreshed or revived in a suitable or fitting manner. This was quite in keeping with John xxIII'S intention that the church more effec-tively bring the riches of salvation in Christ to bear on humanity's immediate and ultimate needs. To this end, article 2 of Perfectae caritatis made clear that effective renewal should occur under the influence of the Holy Spirit and with church guidance. It would involve returning to both the sources of Christian life and the initial inspiration of religious communities as adapted to the altered conditions of current times. PC (Perfectae caritatis, not personal computer!) affirmed fol-lowing Christ in the Gospels as the supreme rule of life for every religious, while urging acceptance and retention of the community's original spirit and aims and sound traditions. It encouraged religious institutes to foster church initiatives in keeping with their own proper char-acter. It mandated that communities should help their members to better understand human realities, world conditions, and the needs of the church. It strongly reaf-firmed the profession of the evangelical counsels and Review for Religious clearly emphasized the importance of spiritual renewal. Article 3 of PC asked every religious community to harmonize its life, prayer, and work with the physical and psychological condition of its members, and it asked us to do likewise in relation to the apostolate, the sur-rounding culture, and overall economic circumstances. It mandated examination of the community's mode of gov-ernment and called for proper revision of constitutions, directories, customs, prayers, and ceremonies in order to bring them into sync with changes promulgated in other conciliar documents. Article 4 of Perfectae caritatis urged the cooperation of all community members in the renewal effort, which it particularly entrusted to competent internal authorities such as general chapters and legitimate superiors. At the same time, it required superiors to consult with com-munity members and to actually listen to them. So it seemed to most of us that someone somewhere who had worked on the formulation of PC must have known that many things might need changing from the way they were back then. All this was prescribed in the context of our individ-ual response to a divine call to express our baptismal consecration more fully by living solely for God with an apostolic orientation in service of the church (articles 5 and 8). Not surprisingly, PC reaffirmed that the three evangelical counsels commonly professed by religious are spiritually and humanly efficacious for fostering maturity, responsible interaction with authority, and con-structive life together. The reordering of the traditional vow sequence from poverty-chastity-obedience to chastity-poverty-obedience was noted, though there was no evident reason for it (articles 12-15). PC also mandated alteration of religious habits inso-far as they were not conducive to hygiene or were no 401 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst Women religious in the Unl,ted States took these conciliar mandates)~,~- and challengers quite.seriously,; responding to them with astounding interest and concerted action. 402 [ longer simple or were not genuinely attuned to apos-tolic needs (article 17). It initiated longer and more com-prehensive formation (article 18) and urged maintenance of current ministries while simultaneously calling for a renewed missionary spirit (article 20). And it pointedly reminded religious everywhere that the "example of their own lives" was the best invitation for others to join them in this way of witness in the church (article 23). Without a doubt, women religious in the United States took these conciliar mandates and challenges quite seriously, responding to them with astounding interest and concerted action. And, without a doubt, Vatican II was a catalyst for renewal. It initi-ated a genuine, whole-hearted, enthusiastic response on the part of American Catholic sis-ters regarding who they were, how they lived and prayed, what they did, and what they were being called to do. On the other hand, from the vantage point of hindsight, it is now rather clear that many changes in religious life catalyzed by the coun-cil did not proceed under the milder conditions that cat-alytic conversions are supposed to make possible. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, experimentation in living and praying and working seems never to have ended, while in some communities their living and praying and working seems never to have changed. In most communities of American Catholic sis-ters, constitutional revisions seem never to have found Review for Religious the last, best way of expressing what sisters really want to say, while in some communities only grammar and syn-tax seem to have been altered, and only minimally. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, corporate apostolates have almost completely disappeared, while in some communities apostolic endeavors seem to have remained exactly the same as they were forty years ago. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, many members wear completely secular attire, while in some communities the sisters' only attire remains a Sunday or weekday or work habit, one of which is worn at all times. In most communities of American Catholic sisters, many members live alone in rented apartments, are responsible to no internal superior below the gen-eral council (now commonly known as a leadership team), find their own jobs, visit relatives at their own convenience, organize their own work schedules, and are basically responsible for maintaining their own well-being. In stark contrast, in some communities life is very much the same as it was forty years ago: all sisters live in convents, are assigned to ministry with little consulta-tion, have local superiors, follow a standard horarium, eat in common, wash dishes at table, never visit their families overnight, and--among a plethora of other per-sonal human constraints--may still be permitted to shower or bathe only once a week. This article refers to the council as a catalyst. In ret-rospect, it is clear that the catalytic impulse of the coun-cil occurred during a decade of rapid and sweeping cultural upheavals in the world. In retrospect, it is also clear that in the United States the catalytic impulse of Vatican lI coincided with conditions of extreme social turbulence. Ostensibly genuine responses to the man-dates of Vatican II during a time of great and ongoing social unrest seem to have resulted forty years later in a 64.4 2005 McDonough ¯ The Council as Catalyst far more than minimal divergence in the ways various communities of sisters in America live and pray and work. From what appear to be the result of forces in play forty years ago, in merely human terms the 1960s may have been the least auspicious time for the church to have sug-gested that American Catholic sisters should reassess every aspect of their lives. Indeed, it seems that strongly affirmed good inten-tions and long-sustained earnest efforts have actually brought American Catholic sisters to diametrically opposed positions of immense disparity in spirituality, theology, apostolic endeavors, internal structures, and overall functioning. In four decades of trying to achieve an accommodata renovatio, many communities of American Catholic sisters appear to have unconsciously but enthu-siastically adapted themselves into impending oblivion, while some other communities of American Catholic sis-ters appear to have consciously and steadfastly remained basically unrenewed. And, in this ongoing process, the genuine challenge of Vatican Council II for religious life as a gift to the church--and to the waiting world-- remains as yet overwhelmingly unrealized. Or so it seems to me. His Smile Radiant goodness broke out from ear to ear a would-be down of pain turned up a smile ingratiating, inviting a welcome sign to an open heart; a home. I stepped in and stayed awhile. Walter Bunofsky SVD Review for Religious CHRISTIAN RAAB Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney Toe 1993 Harold Ramis film Groundhog Day is the ry of a television weatherman named Phil, played by Bill Murray, who soon finds himself in a time warp. As the film begins, Phil is cocky, sarcastic, and self-important and resents being sent to the small town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to cover the Groundhog Day festival. He spends the day ridiculing the provin-cialisms of the people, bragging about his chances of becoming an anchorman, and trying, rather rudely, to charm his attractive ~producer, Rita, played by Andie MacDowell. At day's end Phil's TV crew gets snowed in. Phil awakens the next day to discover that it is February 2 once again, though he is the only one who seems to notice. He relives the whole day, encounter by encounter, no more gracefully and with even more frustration than he had the day before. He finally goes to bed, hoping that he has gotten over the world's worst case of d4j~ vu. He awakens, however, to find that it is February 2 for Christian Raab OSB is a newly professed Benedictine monk at St. Meinrad Archabbey; 100 Hill Drive; St. Meinrad, Indiana 47577. 64.4 200Y Raab ¯ Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney the third time. These repetitions continue for the rest of the movie. Phil quite clearly has become stuck in Groundhog Day. As he keeps reliving this day and reencountering the people in it, Phil's reactions change--from utter frus-tration and angry outbursts to something else. He real-izes that a life without consequences beyond one day can be used for unbounded pleasure seeking. When he tires of this, he turns his attention toward winning the heart of Rita. He spends days figuring out who the perfect man is in Rita's eyes, and then he pretends to be this person. Needless to say, it does not work. Phil responds with despair and, believing it is the only way out of his private hell, tries again and again to end his life. After each attempt, however, he awakens to the same song on the radio and sees that it is still February 2. Finally Phil recognizes that his selfishness is getting him nowhere. He begins to live for others. He gets to know people and responds to their needs. He feeds a homeless man. He is kind to an annoying character. He helps counsel a young couple. He knows what time every day several old ladies get a flat tire and hurries there to fix it for them. He knows what time each day a young boy falls from a tree, and he rushes there to catch him. Discovering that he has a gift for music, he develops and shares it. He becomes part of the community he once ridiculed, and at last, by forgetting himself, he escapes his fate and reaches February 3. There is something about Phil's Groundhog Day that living as a novice in a Benedictine monastery resonates with. Benedictine iife, especially in the novitiate, is very structured and repetitive. Every day begins the same. At 5:15 a.m., the bells announce Morning Prayer. After Morning Prayer is breakfast, then private spiritual read-ing. At 7:30 a.m. we return to church for Mass. When Review for Religious this is over, we may grab a quick cup of coffee before the workday begins at 8:30 a.m. Coffee break is at 10 a.m. At noon comes Midday Prayer and then lunch, fol-lowed by work or class again at 1 p.m. At 4:30 p.m. the workday ends. The monks go back to church at 5 p.m. for Vespers. After this we have another period of private spiritual reading, and then at 6 p.m. we meet for the evening meal. After dinner, monks are usually free to recreate, study, or go to bed, as the case may be. The monk ends his day, goes to sleep, awakens again the next day to the ring-ing of the bells, and the cycle begins again. It is - - a structured, repetitive, and somewhat predictable life. In some ways, every day feels the same. Of course, this structured life is not just a repetition of practices. More important, it is a repetition of encoun-ters with people. It is easy to know that a particular brother can be expected to sit at a particular place in the refectory during breakfast. A certain father will be arriv-ing at the coffeemaker at 7 a.m. Some monks will sit on this side of the calefactory during coffee, break, and oth-ers will sit on the other side. We expect to see certain monks in the computer lab before we open the door. We know who will almost surely be playing cards after supper. We become familiar with the sounds of monks' breathing and walking. We begin to know who will like a book and who will hate it, who will take a joke and who won't, who likes hugs and who doesn't, who prefers the mornings and who prefers the evenings. In the way that monastic life provides a series of repeat encounters This structured life is not just a repetition of practices; it is a repetition of encounters with people. 407 64.4 2005 Raab ¯ Monks' Stability and Punxsutawney 408 and practices, it is not much different from Groundhog Day. The monk, unlike Phil, voluntarily chooses this life of repetitive practices and encounters in connection with the vow of stability. The vow is a monk's promise to stay in the same place with the same people and engage in the same monastic practices for the rest of his life. Like all the vows, stability is a means toward the end of con-version. Our Brother John Mark explains that stability aids conversion by providing a sure and solid context in which the human will may conform to the will of the loving God. He compares the human will to a steel rod that, in conversion, is bent into conformity with the divine will. One cannot bend a rod without having something strong and solid to hold it in place. This is what stabil-ity does. It provides the strong and solid foundation that makes conversion--the bending of the rod--possible. Stability means the monk stays put. He commits to repeat his day over and over again in the same place with the same people doing the same things. And so the monk, in a very real way, is choosing to do what Phil did invol-untarily, to stay in one place, to relive and reencounter while being transformed. Repetition can help us with this transformation, not merely by keeping us surefooted, but by supplying and resupplying opportunities for loving choices. For exam-ple, because I am in this repetitive life, each day I have the opportunity to be more attentive in liturgy, and to be more open in prayer, than I was earlier. As I live and work each day alongside some people who annoy me, I have the opportunity to "love my enemies," to set aside grievances, to practice patience, to exercise charity. Each day I have the opportunity to anticipate needs in the elderly monks, to clean things with more care than I did Review for Religious the day before, to listen with more receptivity to the lonely and the needy. Because so many of our experiences and encounters repeat themselves, I am, each day and always, given the opportunity to be humble where I was proud, to be chaste where I was lustful, to be calm where I was angry, to be forgiving where I was unforgiving, to be assertive where I was a pushover. In this way, stability, by its rep-etition, can be accepted as a great gift on the path to holiness. The monk who perseveres can, like Phil, be trans-formed. Like Phil, we may come to this life with prob-lems of self-centeredness, sarcasm, conceit, anger, despair, or lust. But, if we are open to the grace that comes with living, out stability in a monastic community, we, like Phil, may be transformed into persons of char-ity. In the last scene of Groundhog Day, Phil has finally "gotten it right" and the morrow has finally come. On the morning of February 3, the now-transformed Phil says to Rita with joyful single-mindedness, "Is there any-thing I can do for you today?" It is this monk's hope that he may be able to start his own day, each day, with the same happy singularity of purpose, saying to my broth-ers and to God, "Is there anything I can do for you today?" ZPlease:note that the phone and fax number for the editorial offices of Review for Religious :have changed. The new numbers are: PHONE 31'4-633-4610 :and FAX 314-633-4611. 409 64.4 2005 the ANDREW RYDER Led by the Spirit: St. Augustine spirit 4101 St. Augustine's reflections on Christianity were very original and also much influenced by the facts of his own life. He forged his ideas 6n the hard anvil of his own conversion and his need, as a bishop, to defend the teaching of the Catholic Church. This combination of speculation and experience gives his writings a unique ongoing relevance. Their blending of the theoretical and the practical is nowhere more evident than in his teaching on the Holy Spirit. His Spirit doc-trine develops through three movements: his agonizing effort leading to his conversion, his need as a pastor to explain the church's doc-trines, and his awareness that the action of grace is the love of the Holy Spirit dwelling in our hearts. Fortunately, the key to understanding these three movements, and indeed all of Augustine's theology, is his most popular com- Andrew Ryder scJ presents the second of his four arti-cles on the Holy Spirit. His address is St. Joseph's Retreat Centre; Malpas; Cheshire SY14 7DD; United Kingdom. Review for Religious position, the Confessions. This work records his long-drawn- out struggle to find God. The Confessions The opening words of the Confessions set the tone. Augustine's masterpiece is not a sorrowful account of past misdeeds. It is not a lurid description of a misspent youth, but rather a joyful poem praising the God who has delivered him from sin and error: "Can any praise be worthy of the Lord's majesty? How magnificent his strength! How inscrutable his wisdom! Man is one of your creatures, Lord, and his instinct is to praise you. He bears about him the mark of death, the sign of his own sin, to remind him that you thwart the proud. But still, since he is a part of your creation, he wishes to praise you" (Conf 1.1).' The Confessions are not an autobiography in the mod-ern sense, but rather a profession of faith in the majest

Issue 13.1 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; A. M.D. G. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1954 Apparitions and Revelations . Aucjusffne ~. Ellard Screening of Candidates . WilliemC. Bier ¯Reading for Religious . Edward F. ~aresch6 Aurelian Spirituality . Sister Mary of Carmel Book Reviews Questions and Answers Communications VOLUME XIII NUMBER 1 RI VII:::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIII JANUARY, 1954 NU/vlBER 1 CONTENTS APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS: ATTITUDES TOWARD THEM Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. 3 PRACTICAL REQUIREMENTS OF A PROGRAM FOR THE PSY-CHOLOGICAL SCREENING OF CANDI-DATES- William C. Bier. S.J .13 COMMUNICATIONS . 27 READING FOR RELIGIOUS---Edward F. GareschL S.J .2.9. SPECIAL PUBLICATIONS . 34 AURELIAN SPIRITUALITY~ister Mary of Carmel, R.P.B .3.5. "APPARITIONS" OF OUR LADY . 45 PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS . 46 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Spiritfiality of St. Ignatius Loyola . 47 BOOK NOTICI~S . - . 48 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 49 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Special Confessor for Individual Sister .53 2. Special Spiritual Director, Not Confessor .53 3. Blessing by Mother Superior' . . 54 4. Successive Terms in Different Houses .54 5. Length of Years in Office for Superior General .55 6. Terms of Office for Superior General . 55 VOCATION INSTITUTE . 56 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1954. Vol. XIII, No. 1. Published bi-monthly: January, Ma~ch, May, July, September. and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, 8.3. Copyright, 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before wrltlncj to us. please consult notice on Inside back cover. Review for Religious Volume XIII January--December, 1954 Published a÷ THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is in~lexe¢l in the GATHOLIG PERIODIGAL INDEX Apparit:ions and Revelat:ions: At:t:it:udes t:oward Them Augustine G. Ell~ird, S.J. ASIDE perhaps from fully cloistered nuns, one could hardly be so ill informed about what is going on in Catholic circles as not to notice how often in recent years apparitions and reve-lations from heaven have been reported and what a great stir they make among the people. Troublesome times were always wont to bring, forth a multi-tude of such prodigies. Our days, after the two world wars, the attacks of communism, the threats of atomic catastrophes, and all the disturbing effects of these great movements, are unsettled in a high degree. Moreover--a point in which we differ markedly from previous generations--the means of communication now are so fast and far-reaching that any extraordinary occurrence can become known almost immediately throughout the widest areas. One might suppose that in our enlightened and skeptical and materialistic century a rumor of marvelous happenings would create doubt and cynicism rather than eager enthusiasm to participate in whatever appears supernatural. The contrary, however, seems really to be the fact. At least in one case the excitement became so great and disor-dered that it was necessary for tbe ecclesiastical authorities to launch an excommunication against tbose who were letting their feelings run away with their reason (Heroldsbach, near Bamberg, Germany: nineteen persons were excommunicated: July, 1952). Throughout the whole Catholic world there seemed to be so much excessive credulity toward reported celestial visitations that it was felt im-perative to publish an emphatic warning in the semi-official paper of the Holy See, L'Osseruatore Roneano (February 3, 1951). Some of the best-known of these real or alleged celestial interventions are listed on pages 45-46 of this number of the REVIEW. If one is to distinguish true from false and to preserve an intel-ligent and balanced attitude toward what he hears recounted, it is necessary to have some little acquaintance with what a well-instructed Catholic should think about apparitions and revelations. AUGUSTINE G. }~LLARD ¯Importance of the Right Attitude The importance of taking the proper attitude toward apparitions and revelations can be very great. If Christ our Lord should deign to appear and speak to one, it is clear that He should be received and heard with the great.est rever-ence. Simi!arly if some other person from heaven, say the Blessed Virgin, should honor one with a visit or message, one ought to re-spond with becoming respect and gratitude. God would be singling one out individually for a favor, and even working a miracle to cbnvey it. If the apparitions and revelations be objective and one's reaction right, they sometimes turn out to be the most significant graces for one's own personal sanctification. On the other h.and, one can also make poor use of them, or even let oneself become, the dupe of hal-lucinations, and then the evil consequences can be disastrous. Good Effects The lives of the saints are full of examples of favors of this kind that led later on to other and greater graces. To say nothing of St. Paul's experience on the road to Damascus--because one might argue that it was not merely a private apparltion--we could instance such cases as the following. St. Teresa of Avila experienced very many visions and revela-tions and was much helped by them in becoming the great saint and apostle that she was. Once she beheld a seraph lancing a fiery dart into her heart and she heard Christ Himself ~ay, "In future you will be jealous, for My honor not only because I am your creator and your king, but as My true spouse. My honor is yours: your honor is Mine." Such an experience could not but have a most potent in-fluence upon her subsequent spiritual development. Referring to a number of her visions, she wrote: "I could never regret baying seen these heavenly visions and I would not exchange them for all the good things and delights of this world. I always considered them a great favor from the Lord, and I think they were the greatest of treasures; often the Lord Himself would reassure me about them. I found my love growing exceedingly" (Life, chap. 19: Peers's translation of the Comptete~ Works of St. Teresa, I, 188). St. Catherine of Siena could not be formally and visibly espoused to Christ with a ring and other ceremonies withou,t being powerfully stimulated to advance in sanctity and in the service of 4 danuarg, 19~¥ APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS the Church. A succession of visions helped Joseph of Cupertino, the great Italian Franciscan miracle-worker of the seventeenth cen-tury, to become the incredible .saint that he was. Several of the great religious, orders are indebted in greater or lesser measure for their origin, or at least for their actual historical course of development, to" apparitions and revelations. Saudre~u lists numerous.examples of this fact (L'Etat M~tstique, 1921, p. 221). It is said that the confirmations of both the Franciscan and the Dominican orders were owing in part to visions granted to Pope Innocent III. When St. Francis asked for approbation for his nascent order, the Pope seemed unwilling to give it, and many ~of the cardinals were actively opposed to the move. Then the Pope had a dream in which Francis appeared supporting the Lateran Church which seemed to be in danger of collapsing. Something similar hap-pened five years later in favor of St. Dominic and his order. Ac-cording to t~adition, the founders of the Servite order (seven young men of Florence, in the early part of the thirteenth century) had a vision of the Blessed Virgin and were inspired by her to give tip the secular life and devote themselves to God ,exclusively. Later on, in another vi.sion, she gave them their habit, their name, and an indi-cation as to what rule they should adopt. ' The history of the Church, especially of its devotional life, abundantly illustrates what a mighty influence apparitions and revelations can have for the faithful generally. Outstanding instances that occur to the mind at once are the mission of St. Juliana of Liege (i 193-1258) in bringing about the institution of the solem-nity of Corpus Christi; St. Simon Stock (c. 1165-1265) and the devotion of the scapular; the apparitions of Jesus to St. Margaret Mary and the tremendous force now of the cultus of the Sacred Heart; Lourdes and all the pilgrimages to that shrine; and lastly, Fatima and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Without apparitions and revelations there .would have been no St. Jeanne d'Arc; without her, Frefich and European history would be very different. Owing in part at least to a special revelation St. Catherine of Siena was able to induce Pope Gregory XI to re-store the papal curia from Avignon to Rome. Evil Results On the other hand, private revelations or apparitions, and their counterfeits especially, can also have very serious evil consequences. AUGUSTINE G. I~LLARD Reaie~u for Religious Those that are really genuine a~e at best and in themselves graces of an inferior sort. They belong to the extraordinary phenomena that occasionally mark the pursuit of virtue. Like other miracles, they are not'supernatural in the absolute sense. Of themselves they do not give one a greater participation in the divine life and a Fight to a higher degree of beatitude in eternity. One can be favored with miracles, or even work them, and still in the end find oneself ex-cluded from the company of the elect. "Many will'say to me in that day, 'Lord! Lord! did we not prophesy in Thy name, and cast out demons in Thy name, and do many miracles in Thy name?' And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from Me, you workers of iniq.uityV " (Matthew 7:22.) Some good people are like the ancient Corinthiafis whom St. Paul had to instruct about the relative values of "spiritual gifts" and charity: "Now, earnestly desire the grdater gifts; and yet I will point out to you a far more excellent path," namely that of charity. Then follows the celebrated passage in praise of charity: "If I spoke With the languages of men and of ~ingels: . . . But the greatest of these is love" (I Corinthiaris 12:31-13:13). Moreover the spiritual masters always call attention to the fact that there are many great dangers and difficulties connected with this unusual type of divine favor. It is quite possible to make bad use ~)f good graces. True apparitions and revelations may be misunder-stood and misinterpreted. Instead of being used for the purposes for which they are given, they may be diverted to faulty human ends. They may lead to pride and presumption, and thus eventu-ally to spiritual catastrophe. They are peculiarly apt to lessen the purity of one's faith and charity. At the very least they may dis-tract one from the greater and better graces of the .supernatural life. False visions and revelations, besides playing havoc with the lives and virtues of those who imagine that they receive them, can lead whole multitudes astray, deprive them of the benefits of the proper practice of their religion, and make religion' itself a mockery to outsiders. For thes~ reasons theologians and enlightened spiritual directors always try to discourage people from developing too much interest in these minor, though indeed more spect.acular, manifestations of divine favor. APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS Wrong I, nitial Attitudes . . Among the generality of 'lthe faithful, e~pecially those who ar, e less intelligent or less well educated, there will always be the ineradi- . cable human tend.ency to get e.xcesslvely excited over-fresh reports of supernatural occurrences." There will always .be some who are gul-lible enough to accept almost any rumor. They are curious to have some experience of what is mysterious and weird.-. They are eager. to obtain some divine favor or other. Influencing one another and exemplifying the faults of crowd psychology, they almost inevitably go beyond the limits of sound reason and the cautions of their ec- Clesiastical superiors. Devout individual souls of some proficiency or ambition in the spiritual lif~ often succumb to an inordinate interest in private ap-paritions and revelations, but in a different way. They would dearly love to receix~e some special personal attention from God or the Blessed Virgin or the saints in heaven~ ~It would be wonderful to have ~ real experience in som~ way of the supernatural. They appreciate the joys of spiritual, consolatiori a'nd would gladly enjoy the maximum of them. An unusual sign :from God, actually vis-. ible or audible, could miraculously facilit;ite their efforts to make progre.ss in the interior ways. They would feel more like the saints, who, they imagine, lived in a world of supernatural phenomena. Aiming 'too muchat extraordinar~r ex.periences, rather than at the more prosaic practice of virtue, they would find some of their fondest desires gratified.' Such tendencies appear at times in very pibus and excellent souls. Nevertheless all spiritual authorities are unanimous and urgent in counseling people who are cultivating the interior, life not to desire or seek anything of the kind. Instead of occupying themselves with favors that are of inferior worth and sometimes positively danger-ous, they should concentrate on the more desirable graces, those that properly sanctify one and enhance one's solid virtoe. Otherwise they may fall victims to various hazards and deceits. A very humble man would be preoccupied, not with looking for special, extraordinary favors, but irl endeavori~ag to lessen his unworthiness of'aug favor. A-prudent'man would be wary "about getting himself into many distractions from what he should really be about; One who is on the watch for marvelous phenomena may indeed get them, not from above, but from the insidious evil spirits, ever-ready to turn to their purposes a c.ravir~g that is not wholesome.~ ' " 7 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Reuiew for Religious No 'one is more emphatic in cautioning good people not to seek apparitions and revelations of their own, or does it with more au-thority, than the great mystical doctor of the Church, St. John of the Cross. Reading. what he has to say about such phenomena should cure a sensible person of any hankering that he may have for the marvelous element in ~he spiritual life "Ascent of Mt. Carmel, II, chapters XVI-XXXII). - Thus, for example, he writes: "In order to come to this essential union of love in God [that is, the state to which St. John is guiding his readers], the soul must have a care not to lean upon imaginary visions . for these cannot serve it as a proportionate and proximate means to such an end; rather they would disturb it, and for this reason the soul must re-nounce them and strive not to have them. For if in any circum-stance they were to be received and prized,, it would be for the sake of the profit which true visions bring to the soul and the good effect which they'produce upon it. But i~ is not necessary, for this reason, to receive them; rather it is Well always to reject them for the soul's benefit" (op. cir., Peers's translation, I, 134). The best effects of such divine communicati'ons are received in souls that resist, rather than seek, them. "Let confessors direct their penitents in faith, instructing them frankly to turn away their eyes from all such things, teachingthem how to avoid the desire and the spirit of them that they make progress, and giving them to understand how much more precious in God's sight is one work or act ~f the will performed in charity than are'all the visions and communications that they may receive from Heaven, since these imply neither merit nor demerit" (op cir., I, 184). Recipients" Attitudes But suppose now, no matter what a person's previous attitude toward visions and r~velations has been, that one really occurs, or at least seems to occur. What i~ one to think? What should one do? If it is not quite evident at once, without any examination at all, that what one seems to see or hear is from above, one should try to disregard it arid pay no attention to it. One should rather en-deavor to 'busy oneself with something else. Such is the advice of the saints and theologians. Thus St. Teresa writes: "Both with infirm and healthy souls .there is invariably cause for misgivings about theke things until it becomes clear what kind of spirit is responsible. I Januar~l, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS believe, too, that it is always better for them to dispense with such things at first, for, if they are of God, dispensing with them will help us all the more to advance, since, when put to the proof in this way, they will tend to increase" (Interior Castle, "Sixth M~insions," chapter III; Peers's translation, II, 280). Soon after such an occurrence one should of course consult a prudent director, give him a full account of the whole matter, and then be sensible enough to abide by what he says. In c~se it is immediately and perfectly evident that one has to do with a visit or message that is really of divine origin, then one should receive it with becoming courtesy. What this' will consist in will depend upon who has appeared or who' is speaking. If, for instance, it be Jesus Himself, as happened to St. Margaret Mary, or the Blessed Virgin, as at Lourdes, one would show the utmost rev-erence and respect. If an angel or a saint from heaven or a soul from purgatory should be the visitor, one's reception would be what is fitting under the. circumstances. Any communication would be listened to. The next thing by all means is to see one's director "and let him know just what happened. Then, with becoming docility a'nd humility, one should be guided entirely by his judgment. Patience also may be necessary; it may not be possible for him to come to a conclusion at once. This is exactly what the saints did themselves, and what they recommend for others. Thus one submits to the Church, and is safeguarded from following in the devious ways that history records of many deluded visionaries. What is private and unofficial is sub-ordinated to what is public and official. Care to keep in agreement with the infallible Church is the only sure means of avoiding illu-sion, not to say hallucination. Even if for a time there should seem to be a contradiction between God giving directions immediately in a revelation and God directing through the Church, one should fol-low the Church's rep, resentatives. It is thus that God is truly pleased. One time St. Teresa was instructed in a revelation from the Lord to make a certain foundation. Her superior, Father Gratian, desired that she should make another one instead. She obeyed promptly and simply. Father Gratian was aware of the difficulty, and being surprised that she did not object, later on questioned her about the matter. Teresa answered that she acted as she did "because AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD' '"::: ' '." ~', Reoieto for Religious faith tells me that the orders of Your Reverence are the expression of the will of God, whereas I am never sure of my revelations." Showing the proper diffidence in oneself and docility toward au-thority is a sign in favor of one's vision or locution, and may be a means of promoting its acceptance. On the contrary, excessive in-sistence on having a direct personal communication from God might lead to suspicions against one and resistance. One may feel that something divine and very excellent is being neglected or lost, and to bear this trial well may test one's patience and humility. But if it r.eally be from God, in His own good time He will make it tri-umph. Thus it was on13i after the death of Blessed Juliana of Liege that her divine commission to help bring about the feast " : Corpus Christi achieved the desired result. Sometimes a person gets some practical injunction in a private revelation; for example, to promote a certain devotion, to take steps toward raising a shrine, to make a pilgrimage, and so forth. Here the first great rule is to begin by seeking prudent ,counsel from one's director or superiors, and to conform to it. The second general principle is not to do anything of the kind unless independently of ¯ the supposed revelation there seem to be good reasons for it. Thus one follows both supernatural good sefise and the revelation. Then the suggestion from above becomes the occasion rather than the principal cause of what is done. The more extraordinary the un-dertaking appears, the greater must be the reasons otherwise known which justify it, the greater one's care in considering the whole mat-ter, ands the more cautious one's general attitude. Humility and amenability to direction are both excellent signs of union with God and means of getting co-operation from others in doing the work of God and of the Church. Reported Apparitions and Revelations The great practical problem for most of us is what attitude we should take, not toward visions or locutions of our own--most of us do not have very many!--but toward the apparitions or revela-tions that we hear or read about. In Catholic spiritual literature there are volumes and volumes from the saints and other devout persons purporting to give new re-vealed knowledge On the life of Christ, for instance, or on His Pas-sion, or on the experiences of the Blessed Virgin. Moreover the public press nowadays very frequently has news 10 danuar~l, 1954 APPARITIONS AND P~EVELATIONS reports about alleged recent revelations. The Scapular, for Septem-ber- October, 1950, gives an account in particular of fifteen appari-tions, of the ]31essed Virgin since Fatima, and it adds, "There are reports of others in Spain, Poland, Roumania, and Sicily, but so far the news is sketchy and incomplete" (pp. 3 ft.). There are also the apparitions listed by the Clergtl Montbtv (Ranchi, India) and re-ferred to at the beginning of this.article (see pp. 45-46). The query what stand-we should adopt toward such reports affects all of us and nearly all- the time. To disregard true messages from heaven would be unbecoming, displeasing to" God, and inju-rious to ourselves. But neither do we wish to be duped by the vic-tims of hallucination. Here we may consider a simple and obvious solution of the problem. It will be very easy. to apply and very safe. But unfor~ tunately it will not always be available, especially in the beginning when popular interest and excitement are at their height. In an-other article we.can discuss the distinctions and difficulties that meet one who inquires into these matters more thoroughly. For the pres-ent let us be satisfied with the simplest answer. This plain and facile solution is, "Follow the approbation or disapprobation of the official authorities in the Church, either the Pope or the bishops! If they have not spoken yet, by all means sus-pend judgment, and wait until they do!" , The Church can judge. The" supernatural is her special field, and in it she has a unique competence. She also has the accumu-lated ~xperience and wisdom of twenty centuries. Her theologians know the criteria by which to distinguish the supernatural from the natural, Her investigators can judiciously gather all the evidence for the facts. They can visit the place where the. vision is said to have occurred and interrogate the persons most intimately concerned. When appropriate, they can bring in witnesses that are expert in science, medicine, psychology, and other specialties. They go about their work calmly and critically, not excitedly and enthusiastically. Finally, they have the peculiar assistance of the Holy Spirit. Hence' they can come to a well-founded decision. It is never, however, proposed as infallible. We cannot judge. Of all .the people who hear or read of the apparitions and revelations that are currently reported not one in a hundred knows the principles on the basis, of which critical judg-ments about them are to be made. Even if everybody did know 11 -AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD those criteria well, still practically they could not ascertain the ~acts reliably. Because of distance and remoteness, or lack of opportunity to inquire carefully, 0r--perhaps most of all--want of sufficiently trustworthy a, ccounts, it is really impossible for nearly all persons who merely read or hear such reports to get a critically certain, fac-tual foundation for judgment. Hence, for want of evidence, they are not in a position to pronounce. Therefore, the sensible thing to do is to follow the official deci-sions of the Church~ whether episcopal or papal. One alw.a.ys does best precisely in agreeing with the Church. She does not expec.t what is proposed as divine revelation to be received as such without miraculous intervention demonstrating that God corroborates what His messenger says. She does not go to either of the two extremes of roundly denying in advance all private visions or locutions or Of readily admitting those that are being bruited about. With the competence of a.specialist in the domain of the supernatural, and with absolutely unique promises of aid from the Holy Spirit, she investigates individual cases with great care and pro-nounces decisions that should command the respect of all. Besides, one who thinks with the Church will preserve his sense of perspec-tire and attach relatively little importance to private revelations as compared with the great official public revelation entrusted long ago to her by Christ and the Apostles. During the interval that elapses between the first report o~ a new vision and the approbation or disapprobation of the ecclesiastical au-thorities, the best and the most prudent thing that one can do is to be patient, hold one's opinion in abeyance, and await the official judgment. Otherwise one runs the risk of rejecting, what is au-thentically of divine origin-or of sharing in the evil consequences of hallucination or downright imPosture. To be intelligent about the whole matter in a very general way, one 'might well review, the principl.es that should guide one's thinking by reading the pertinent pages in some such work as Tanquerey's The Spiritual Limb, pages 700 ft., or Poulain's The' Graces of Inte?ior Prayer, pages 299 ft. "Do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits, whether they are from God; for many false prophets have gone out into the world". (I John 4:1). ."Test everything; hold fast to what is good" (I Thessalonians'5:21). 12 Prac!:ical Requiremen!:s of a ¯ Program for t:he Psychological Screening ot: Candidat:es William C. Bier, S.3. [EDITORS' NOTE: This is the second of two articles adapted from papers presented at the Fordham Institute on Religious and Sagerdo~al Vocations, duly, 1953.] THIS article begins with a premise established previously,I name-ly, that psychological' testing has a role to perform and a con-tribution to make in the selection of candidates for the reli-gious life; in other words, that such a program is theoretically de-sirable. The purpose of the present article is to consider the practi-cal feasibility of such a procedure. In other words, would the in-auguration of such a program at the present time be a prudent step? Prudence of Such a Program Father 'A. Pl~, O.P., in a rather remarkable paper bearing the significant title, "Unconscious Attraction to the Religious Life," writes as follows: "If the psychologist can give us warning at the outset, it would surely be a sin not to ask for his services. The sacred character of grace, especially the grace of vocation, as well as respect for the hu-man person make it a serious olSligation for us to use every possible means to avoid mistakes about vocation.''2 With this statement I think that few would be in disagreement. The crucial question, however, remains: Can the psychologist give us warning of unsuitability in the case of an applicant? There is difference of opinion on the answer to the above que.s-tion. Father Felix Duffey, C.S.C., has written an over-all excellent book on this general subject, called Testing the Spirit.3 At the be.- ginning of his book, he gives a scriptural quotation which might be taken as a very apposite motto for any whose work involves the dis-cernment of vocation. The quotation from I Timothy 5:24 reads lWilliam C. Bier, S.J., "Psychological Testing of Candidates and the Theology of Vocation," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), 291-304. 2A. Pl~, O.P., "Unconscious Attraction to the Religious Life," Religious Life: II Vocation. Westminster, Md.: Newman, 1952, p. 109. SFelix D. Duffey, C.S.C., Testing the Spirit. St. Louis: Herder, 1947. WILLIAM C. BIER Review [o~ Religious as follows: "Some men have faults that are plain to view; with others, discovery follows upon. the heels of ,inquiry." Although Father Duffey is much impressed by the need of sound mental health among applicants for the religious life and writes the book for this reason, he believes, nevertheless, that the use of mental aptitude tests for the examination of candidates for the religious life would be "imprudent.''4 When we inquire into the basis for this conclusion, we find that he assigns tw.o reasons. The first is this: psychometrics (psychological tests) are not infallibie. One may legitimately ask what method, particularly in so difficult a matter, is infallible? If the use of psychometrics is imprudent becat~se the tests are not infal-lible, then the use of any other method would have to be judged equally imprudent. Certainly the substitute solution proposed by Father Duffey is not infallible, whereby spiritual directors and supe-riors, with the aid of a series of questions proposed by the author and without any particular training in the field of psychology, are left to judge of the psychological suitability of candidates. In the course of explaining these questio.ns, Father. Duffey makes a large number of astute and helpful recommendations,, but it seems that the over-all res,ult of such a method would be a return to the "unscien-tific and haphazard experimentation" in determining the mental health of candidates to the religious life, against which the book is aimed. The second reason given by Father Duffey for the rejection of psychological tests in the evaluation of candidates is that no reli-gious aptitude tests exist. In this respect, Father Duffey is perfectiy correct; his supposition, however, may be questioned, because no specific religious aptitude tests are needed, as vcill be seen later in this article. The question which must be asked with respect to psychological tests and their use in 'the evaluation of candidates for religious life is th~s: Have the techniques of psychological testing advanced to a point where they are able to furnish us with helpful information relative to applicants before admission? To this question I give an unhesitatingly affirmative answer: they can furnish us' with such in-formation. Whether the actual use of them will be prudent or not depends on how they are used. At the present time there is great need to stress the importance of the proper use of psychological tests. I have had occasion to observe 4lbid.o p. 6. 1# danuartt, 1954 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING the reaction of Catholics to the psychological-testing movement over a period of years, and I have frequently noticed an initial suspicion of these tests give way to enthusiastic endorsement when it is seen what these tests are able to do, for instance, by way of prediction in school work. Yet this enthusiasm for psychological tests is some-times extreme and riot sufficiently tempered by an appreciation of their limitations. This matter is mentioned here because it is pos-sible to discern something of the same process under way with re-spect to the use of psychological tests in ~he examination of candi-dates for religious life. An initial reluctance to employ such adjuncts seems to be growing in some quarters into an overenthusiastic and oversimplified acceptance. When it is bruited about that such tests have been used with a certain degree of success, there is a tendency to think that all that is necessary is to find out what tests have been used and to give them. A series of articles, published in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS during 1949, 1950, and 1951, may perhaps have contributed to the above viewpoint. In these articles .the use of psychological tests is recommended as a help in evaluating the fitness of applicants for the religious life; and in terms of the practical initiation of such a pro-gram it is suggested that, when nothing better is available, the pro-gram could be begun were dne of the members of the community to take certain courses in psychological testing. The following quota-tion is drawn from one of the above-mentioned articles: "The ideal prerequisite is that some member of the community be trained in the field of psychometrics. As a .preliminary step, sev-eral basic courses in tests and measurements may suffice. In lieu of trained personnel, the services of someone who is sympathetic to testing, who will conscientiously adhere to manuals of directions, and who will be extremely careful in interpreting results may be utilized."s It is evident that the above writer considers that a training in psychometrics is sufficient for the director of such a program. For reasons explained more adequately later in this article, I am unable to agree with these recommendations. It would be my opinion that a much broader training in psychology is needed to undertake the in-terpretation of psychological tests in such an important matter vocation and with a special-interest group, such as applicants for the SSister M. Digna, O.S.B., "A Tentative Testing Program for Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, X (1951), 75-76. 15 WILLIAM C.'BIER ¯ Review [or Religious' priesthood and religious life. The recommendations offered in the above quotation assume that psychological testing is automatic to an extent which, in my opinion, cannot be supported in theory and which consequently is dangerous to apply in practice. It is clear that the present article assumes so .mething of a middle position in this matter. On the one harid, I fed that psychological testing has developed to a point where it can prudently be used in the selection, of candidates for religious life. On the other hand, I consider it essential that such a program be set up in an adequate manner. With the wrong approach, more harm than good can re-sult from the attempt. The crux of the matter, from a practical point of view, is how the program would be developed. The re-mainder of this article will consider the practical requirements for the adequate inauguration of such a program. Once the principle is accepted that psychological tests have a con-tribution to make in judging religious vocation, it becomes dear that there are different ways in which this principle may satisfactorily be applied in practice. The program suggested below is only one wa3', and it is certainly not the only way, in which the above principle can .be applied. The main advantage in outlining a program of applica-tion is to illustrate the level upon which the work needs to be done, and to ~all attention to certain requiremdnts which must be met in any application of psychological testing to candidates for the reli-gious life. Requirements of the Program What is necessary" above all else is that a p~ogram for the psy-chological testing of applicants for the religious life should be put in the hands of the right person, and this person is, ideally at least, a member of the religious institute in question, who has had adequate psychological training. This combination is particularly desirable and advantageous; but if it cannot be had, then the first requirement .may be waived, but not the second. It is essential that this program be" in the hands of h competently trained psychologist. Such a per-. son will be able to make a maximum contribution if he has had the experience of living a religious life, but he can still make his essential contribution even if this is not the case. What is needed is not merely acquaintance with psychological testing, but a general training in psychology. I would think it imprudent for anyone to undertake the administration of such a program who does not have at least a 16 January, 19.~4 PSYCHOLOGICAL ~;CREENING ' master's degree in psychology; and it would be highly desirable that the director haxle'more training than that, not only thebretical, in terms of courses, but practical, in terms of experience. This sort of testing is not a field for novices and beginners in psychology; it re-mains a difficult task even when one is able to bring to it the maxi-mum which modernlpsychology can offer in training and experience. The director assumes responsibility for the prog.ram in the.sense of,select~ing the tests-and procedures to be employed, supervising if not actually.admin!stering the tests, and above all interpreting the' test results. The interprethtion of.the test result~ is the ~rucial part of the program, and this is the portion which is far from ahtomatic and makes the fullest demands in terms of psychological, tra.ining,' understanding, a'nd i.nsight. As a result of the testing prggram,.th~ director will offer to the" religious superior ~ re~ofiarfi~ndation 0ri each candidate ~e~ted. Tl~e' prog.ram director serves as a. spec.ial consultant to the superigr in tile s~lection of candidat'es'. 'In this respect, the role of the program ad-i .ministrator i.s pur~ely ,advisory, so that the sgperior loses none of his l!berty of actidn. He does, .however, secure more information aboi~t each candidate than would otherwise be available to him, so that hisi judgement of suitabilitylmay have a more adequate foundation. A program, such as the one suggested, supplements, but in no way sup~ plants, the traditional sources of information oh the suitability, of candidates. This aspect will be most adequately achieved if the recommendation of the program director on tile suitability of each candidate b~ made independently of these traditional sources of in-formation. The shperior will then have at his disposal, when he comes to make a judgement on the suitability of the candidate, both' sources of information, so that his decision may be truly as well founded as it is possible to make it. Tests Prior to Admission " My recommendation would be that these tests should be given" to the applicants prior to admission, as it is only in this way that the information derived from them Jan possibly aid the superior in determining the application of candidates. There may be some diffi-culty in arranging for the testing of candidates prior to entrance, but, the benefits of so doing repay whatever effort is involved. It may be noted that it is not necessary that all the candidates be brought to-gether in one place for such testing. It is quite feasible to have sev-, 17 ~¢II~LI.~I C. BIER eral testing centers, and since the first tests are group tests;'as will be explained, it is entirely possible to have them administered by some one else, Who can be easily trained for this limited purpose, and the test results sent to the program director. The only other alternative would be to wait until after admission and to give them during postulancy or noviceship. This is not only a second-best solution, but one which Icould not recommend at all. A number of reasons combine in pointing to the desirability of conducting the tests prior to admission. In the first place, it is easier at that time for the applicant to cooperate in taking the tests to the extent needed for their validity. It must be recognized that most psychological tests of personality rely for their validity upon the co-operation of the respondent and must assume that the questions are answered frankly and honestly. There are very few personality tests whose rdsults are unaffected by deliberate attempts at falsification. This is a limitation in the use of most personality tests which must be appreciated and. faced. Prior to admission, the proper atmosphere of cooperation can more readily be created by letting the applicant see that no favor would be done him by accepting him into rel{gion if he were not suited for such a way of life. He can be led to accept this viewpoint on natural grounds (a misfit in life is a misfortune at any time, but doubly so in religion) and for supernatural motives (he .wishes.to enter religion only if such is God's will for him). It is not implied that it is impossible to obtain such a measure of co-operation after admission, . but it is then more difficult because the individual already has a position to protect. To leave religion, even shortly after admission, involves a loss of self-esteem, fear of criti-cism on the part of others, the thought of failing one's family and one's friends, and many other intimate and personal considerations, all of which operate as a temptati6n to reply to tests in a manner calculated to make oneself appear in a favorable light rather than to give an accurate picture of oneself. The judicious applicant usually keeps the fact of his application to himself until after he has actually been accepted, precisely in order not to create for himself the kind of pressures mentioned above. It is well known that it requires much more courage to leave religion, when one finds that one is unsuited, than it does to enter; but what may not be so readily appreciated is how quickly after admission these defenses mobilize, and their mo-bilization, perhaps in ways so subtle as to be hardly appreciated by the individual, would interfere with the test results. 1"8 danuarg, 1954 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING Closely allied to the above reason for holding the tests prior to: admission is the added advantage to the applicant that his unsuit-ability for religious life be made known to him as soon as possible. The difficulty of readjustment to life in the ~vorld after a period in religion is well known; and, if this readjustment can be spared the applicant, it is clearly beneficial. From the point of view of the religious institute, when the tests hre given only after admission, there will be an inkvitabletendency to let the doubtful candidates stay and give them a trial, since they have already entered. Experience proves that this is the precise trouble with doubtfully suitable religious. They are accepted in the first place because they are doubtful and hence not clearly excluded. For the same reason, they.are passed on from the postulancy to the novitiate, and from the novitiate to temporary and perhaps final vows. At each stage it becomes more difficult to reject them, not because they are any more suited for religious life, but simply because they have been in.religion for such and si~ch a length of time. The place to eliminate doubtfully suitable c~indidates is at the time of ap-plication. The attitude to be adopted in the case of doubtful candi-dates has been discussed in the previous article.6 The final reason for recommending that the tests be given prior to admission is a technical one but, in some ways, it is the most compelling reason of all. It is this: Were the tests given during tulancy or noviceship, it would be impossible to interpret the re-sults. Introduction to the religious life is a profound experience, and it seems that such an experience would have inevitable repercussions in the psychological make-up of the individual. However, at the present time we know next to nothing of the impact of religious life on psychological functioning, and hence we have no base line where-by to interpret the results of psychological testing given during a time of intense religious experience, such as the postulancy and nov-iceship certainly provide. It may be objected that part of the function of the novitiate is to determine the suitability of novices for life in religion. While such is undoubtedly true, it would seem that this principle is some-times misunderstood. Primarily, the function of the novitiate is a positive one: to train the young person in the following of Christ through the practice of the evangelical counsels and the particular rules of the religious institute. The novitiate assumes the suitability 6REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), p. 291. 19 WILLIAM (2. BIER Review for, Religious "of its novices; its fundamental function is to train them. Second-arily, it is true, the novitiate tests suitability, but only as the latter develops as a. corollary flowing from novitiate training. Suitability is essentially an admission problem, and /'/arm results when admission problems are passed on to the novitiate. They then become novitiate problems, to the detriment of the essential function of the novitiate, which is training in the religious life. When unsuitability develops in the novitiate, it should be an unsuita.bility which was not ap-. parent upon application, and which only appeared under the more protracted and more penetrating scrutiny of the novitiate. Kind of Tests Ernploged At this point consideration may be given to the kind of psycho-logical tests which would be employed in the evaluation of candi-dates for the religious 'life. The specific tests to be employed is a technical question for psychological experts, and in a general discus-sion it is advantageous to refer only to the kind of psychologic~il tests to be used. Specific tests "can only be chosen in the last analysis with respect to a specific situation--hence in terms of a speqified r~ligious institute--and this is an additional reason why the ques-tion of specific psychological tests cannot be introduced into a gen-eral discussion. In order, however, to discuss even the kind of psychological tests to be employed, it is necessary to introduce, some specification with respect to the type of religious institute concerned. To illustrate the principles involved, the instance of a religious institute accepting candidates for the priesthood will be chosen. This case is sufficiently general to provide considerable immediate application,, and to make it possible for other religious groups to consider the application of these principles to. their own specific-situations. Among psychological tests there are what are referred to as group tests, i.e., tests which can be administered to a group of people at the same time. It is recommended that the program of.psychological' tests for applicants for .the religious life start with tests of this kind. All applicants would be required to take these tests prior to admis-sion, and they could be administered in smaller or larger groups de-pending upon circumstances, and in whatever, way would prove generally most convenient. These tests would be chosen and de-signed to furnish information on the suitability, of candidates in two general areas: academic or intellectual suitability, and psychological 2O danuar~l, 1954 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCR~NI~q~/ or personality suitability. In the area of academic suitability, investigation would be madd~ of intellectual ability and academic achievement. It is rec~inmended that ability be measured by two tests, preferably two tests taking different approhches to the matter, e.g,, a spe,ed test and a power test, thecomposite of the two tests being taken as an over-all index of-academic ability." One or more achievement tests may be. given, and their function wo~il~l be to determine the relationship between abil-ity and performance. Ideally, achievement should be on a par wi~b" ability, and notable discrepancies between the two become helpful, and someti~m~s important, interpretative factors. It is evident that a certain level of ability and academic per-formance is needed for the course of studies leading to the priesth, ood and 'for the subsequent work of the ministry. It is true, however, that various indices of such ability and performance are already available, for instance, in school marks. It might be thought, there-fore, that psychological tests for these attributes are an unnecessary duplication. Tests in these areas are not, perhaps, essential; but they are desirable, and they can be very helpful. In school marks, ability and application are mixed in unknown degrees, and in terms of preparation for the priesthood, it becomes important' to sift out the relative roles of each. Religious training can furnish the moti-vation needed for appIication to study, but it cannot supply ability, where the latter is lacking. Added application can compensate for deficient ability, but only within quite narrow limits. It is a fre-quent fallacy .to assume that, with an individual of limited ability, the same amount of extra application and diligence will spell success higher up on the academic ladder as it did earlier, for instance in col-leg~ as it did in high school. It cannot, do so, however, because an equivalent performance at the higher level requires greater abifity, and an individual who has already been achieving only by reason of added application is overwhelmed on reaching the higher level of academic work. Consequently, a reliable estimate of ability, as distinct, from" application, is needed in order properIy to evaluate the academic suitability of candidates for the priesthood. Furthermore, applicantscome from different schools; and unless one is familiar with each school, it is difficult to evaluate the significance of the grades attained. There is the further advantage of comparing all of the applicants, from whatever school, according to the same cri-terion, and this aim is achieved when all of them take the same psy- WILLIAM (~. BIER Review/~or Religiou.s chological tests. It must be remembered that selection in'this case is not merely for the work of a few years, as for entrance to college,but for a lifetime undertaking; and in a matter of such importance, it would, be more appropriate to speak of checking and re-checking, rather than of unnecessary duplication. Recall, too, the general role suggested above for these tests, namely, to furnish an independent estimate of suitability. An applicant's school grades, °for instance, may be so low as not to recommend him, but hi~ teachers explain this fact as due to the necessity of work outside of school or to an unusual amount of extracurricular activities. The superior wishes to know whether this report is accurate, or whether it is rather a charitable interpretation on the part of his teachers, influenced per-haps by.their opinion.of the applicant as a person and, it may be, as one judged by them .to be a desirable candidate in all other respects. The psychological tests will furnish the superior in a case of this kind with exactly the independent estimate which is needed. Finally, since suitability must be judged on a total basis, the ability level of the applicant may be important in terms of his personal tendencies, as will presently be explained. Since the over-all function of the program of psychological tests is ~o offer supplementary information on'the suitability of candi-dates, the information furnished in the area of psychological suit-ability is the most important, because it is'in this area that the least :information is usually available. It~will be recalled that" Father Duffey, quoted at the beginning of this article, felt that' the psycho-ilogical testing of applicants for the r~ligious life was not currently :feasible because no religious'aptitude tests are a;cailable. I should like .at this point to develop the notion suggested earlier that no specific~ :religious aptitude tests are needed. What we wish basically to discover with respect to the applicant :is whether he is a mature, stable, well-integrated person: in a word, a fundamentally normal person. If he is such, the~a he is, psycho-logically speaking, a good prospect for the religious life. Some per-sons by reason of their psychological dispositions will.find religious life naturally more congenial than others~ but it must be appreciated that. what is needed in terms of the evaluation of candidates is an estimate, not of congeniality, but of fundamental compatibility and suitability. The individual who is psychologically unsuitable for religious life is such because he.,is, in general, not a psychologically well:integrated and well-balanced individual. He would not,.be toa January/, 1 ~,5 4 I~SYCHOLOGIC~tL SCREENING well suited for many other things as well; .religious life is only one of them. However, he is more unsuited for religious life than for cer-tain other things because of the added psychological demands of ligious life. The conclusion to be drawn from this premise with respect to psychological tests for applicants for religious life is evi-dent. Specific religious aptitude tests are not needed; what is needed is an estimate of the general maturity, integration, and balance of the personality. Hence we are able to employ psychological tests which give us this sort of information. It must be recognized that the only basis for estimating the likelihood of psychological adjust.- ment to religious life is the previous adjustment manifested by the individt~al. It may be taken as a fundamental principle in this mat-ter that there is no reason to expect an individual successfully tO adapt himself to the demands of religious life if he ~has nbt anteced-ently been able to adjust to the .ordinary problems of life. -Thus, the psychological tests employed are aimed at providing a reliabl~ estimate of the psychological adjustment of. the, individual, as veal, d in previous inter;personal relationships and life .situations~ Here, even more than in the area of intellectual testing, reliance. should not be placed upon any single test, but several should be em-ployed and the composite result of all considered in arriving ~it .a decision. The questionnaire type of personhlity tests, when admin-istered in the proper atmosphere where the answers will be given frankly and honestly, can furnish very. helpful and reliable informa-tion about personality maturity and integration; but they can well be supplemented by certain of the less-structured, i.e., in technical terms, the projective personality tests. From the several, personality tests which are administered comes the basis for the judgement of psychological maturity, stability, and integration. Such an indi-vidual is, from the psychological point of view, .in the words of canon 538, ". fit to bear the burdens of the religious state," Another factor v~hich must be considered, however, is attraction for the religious life. Not everyone who is suited for religious life is attracted to it. Granted that this attraction is fundamentally a grace, is it not likely that it builds on a certain.natural disposition of cl-;ar-acter and personality? Since the priesthood and religious life make an effective appeal to only a relatively small portion of our Catholic young people, most of whom would be psychologically suited, there must be something different about them, and it seems quite likely that such differences would descend into the psychological compo- 23 .WILLIAM C. BIER Reoie~o ~:or Religious nents of personality. When we a~tually administer psychological tests to groups of candidates applying to enter religious life, we find that. they do score somewhat differently on these tests than other comparable groups. The earliest findings in this respect were mis-interpreted, and it was concluded that religious and seminarians as a group were characterized by marked abnormal and neurotic tenden-cies. Actually, of course, these findings simply meant that these groups were different from the population at large, and that the psy-chological tests were sensitive enough to pick up these differences. These findings do have one important bearing, however, on the use of psychological tests in the screening of candidates, and it is this: serious mistakes in interpretation will almost surely be made if test resul~s, with a special group of this kind, are accepted at their face value. Any personality test which is employed, whose norms are based upon the general population, will have to be adapted for use with candidates to the religious life. The degree of adaptation is ' something which can only be determined through actual use, and this clearly reinforces the viewpoint presented earlier 'chat the use of these tests is not automatic, and cannot be. made so at the present time. This is unquestionably work for the psychological expert, and for him alone. Results so far obtained in the use of psychological tests with religious men and women indicate that psychological adjustment as applied to life in the world and life in religion is an analogous con- Cept, meaning that it is partly the same, and partly different, in the two cases. It is partly the samebecause the same psychological re-sources at the disposal of the individual are employed in the two cases but adjustment is partly different because the demands are different, and so too are the psycholbgical satisfactions involved. A word on the interpretation of test findings may be in order at this point. It is evident that some .applicants would exclude them-selves on intellectual grounds alone, no matter how stable and well-integrated their personalities. It must be remembered that we are .considering the case of an applicant for the religio~s priesthood, and a certain level of intellectual ability is clearly required in such.,a case. .On the other hand, some applicants would exclude "themselves on .personality grounds, no matter how.high their level of intellectual ¯ .ability. In certain other instances, however, the interrelation of .ability and personalit~ proves decisive. A man of somewhat limited .ability but well-integrated personality might be judged suitable, PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING while a second applicant of the.'same ability, but of a less-balanced personality, could be judged unsuitable. In such a case, it is neither ability alone (which presumably is low, but not impossible) nor personality integration alone (which while poor is not itself pro~ bibitive) which is judged unfavorable, but the combination of the two. An applicant of limited ability would find the course of s~udies for the priestl~ood a constant strain, and prolonged stress of this kind is calculated to accentuate any personality.difficulties which might already be present. Final Portion of the Program Thus far, reference has been made only to group psychological tests in the evaluation of candidates. It is necessary that the group-testing progr~am be supplemented by a certain amount of individual testing. Depending upon the size of the group of candidates to b~ examined, individual intelviews may be feasible. If it is possible "to make arrangements for them, they are very helpful. Such inter-views will be most advantageous if held after the group testing, be-cause they can then be made to supplement the information derived from the general test results in a most helpful way, and can prevent misinterpretation which might possibly result from the use of test results alone. Whether it is feasible to arrange individual interviews or not, it will sometimes be necessary to resort to supplementary in-dividual testing. There will always be some cases in which the group tests will give inconclusive results, and it would be unwise, if not unjust, particularly in the earlier stages of a testing program, to settle the matter on the basis of group tests alone. At this stage, it is my recommendation that the program should have consultants. I would suggest that one consultant be a clinical psycholggist and the other a psychiatrist. Only those candidates would reach this stage of the program in whose case the group tests ¯ gave positive reasons for doubting their suitability for religious life. It is not necessary, nor, as far as I can s~e, is it desirable that every candidate for religious life be interviewed by a psychiatrist; but ~ucl~ is necessary in some cases. The group testing reveals the cases in which such a psychiatric judgement is needed. Thus, in the difficult and doubtful cases, the director of the testing program has the inde-pendent judgement of two experts to guide him. It would be my conception that the clinical psychologist and the psychiatrist serve as. consultants to the program director, and even in these cases the latter 25 WILLIAM C. BIER .assumes the responsibility for the bver-all recommendation on the candidate which is given to the superior. The .final recommendations on each candidate which are made to the superior may profitably be divided into those which are favor-able, unfavorable, and doubtful. Sometimes even when group and individual testing is complete, the only judgement which can be made on a candidate, in fairness both to the applicant and to the reli-gious institute, is that he is a doubtful prospect for religious life. Yet everi here, which is the least satisfactory outcome, the program has something to offer, because the doubt is in all cases a positive one and the superior knows the reasons why the candidate is a doubtful prospect. In work of this kind humility is by all means necessary. Indeed, any other attitude would be preposterous in a matter where the outcome depends on the interplay of God's grace and man's free will. It.is clear, therefore, that a program such as the one described in this article will not solve all admission problems, nor can it be expected to do so. Its contribution, though genuine, is limited. Even with 'the help of such a program, mistakes in admissions will be made, but almost surely there will be fewer mistakes and they will be less seri-ous. One of the great advantages of a program such as the one out-lined above is that it makes it possible to profit to the utmost from the mistakes which are made. It is assumed that the records of the tests will be kept. If the program director will then study the progress of the applicants in religion, he will learn much, both about his tests and about his predictions based upon them, and this is in-formation which can be gathered in no other why. Some of the tan-didates tested will leave after admission, and it is evident that infor-mation about such candidates, as far as it is obtainable, will con-tribute substantially to the improvement of the program. It would seem that a sustained program of admissions and follow-up, such as that projected here, would be a particularly valuable adjunct to reli-gious admissions which depend ultimately upon the superior, and superiors change frequently according to the provisions of canon law. A program of this kind can help a new superior avoid some of the mistakes of his predecessor. A program of psychological tests such as that envisioned here can be of some immediate assistance in the selection 6f candidates. It is clear, however, that such a program must be considered to be in 26 danuar~!, 1954 COMMUNICATIONS an experimental stage for some years, while the test results are per-mitted to validate themselves against time and against the progress of the candidates in religion. A judicious use may be made of the test results even in these early years. The tests will, however, be-come more valuable in time, when their, validity has been verified. In conclusion, .I would stress the fact.that psychological testing can touch only the natural foundation for religious vocation, which in its essential aspect is the work of God's grace. Its role, therefore, though genuine, is limited; but when applied prudently, it will al-most surely be a helpful adjunct in the most difficult task of scru-tinizing the suitability of those who, inspired by'a right intention, present themselves as applicants for admission to religious life. 'ommun{cal:{ons Reverend Fathers: The article on the particular examen in theJuly, 1953, issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, entitled "A New and Vital Approach," by Father De Letter, S.2., was thought-provoking. You invited com-ment. It'seems to me that there really are. religious (and let's hope there are many) who after years of striving after perfection cannot derive much help from the particular examen if they merely try to break an unwanted habit or work against their pet sin. There are even some, perhaps many, who cannot for the life of them find out what their predominant fault is; And this is not to be wondered at. Surely fervent religious can be expected to reach a certain stage of perfection beyond which it is hardly possible perceptibl~/to go, though they do advance in holiness continually as they increase in sanctifying grace, even without their knowing it. Should such drop the particular examen? By no means. Also for them it is a great aid to perfection. But for them especially is the new and vital approach suggested by Father De Letter. . I don't know just how new this is. It is certainly new in its presentation in that issue. But it has long been practiced in many different ways by religious here and there. And it is the only sen-sible way of handling the particular examen for those who have made such progress in the spiritual life as suggested above. 27 (~OMMUNICATIONS Now, to be practical. Take a good religious who wishes to prac~' rice the particular examen and has no special fauIt to overcome. This religious wants to be very close to God always. But he is extremely busy all the day long in the various tasks assigned to him. He is prone to forget God's presence. Looking about for ways and means of remaining in the presence of God, of being intimately united with Him always, he recalls that the saints and ascetical writers tell us that 6he of the best means is the fervent utterance of ejaculatory prayers or aspirations, made either' orally or mentally. He makes it the subject of his particular examen to keep close to God by saying such prayers often during the day. Between tasks, as he goes about from place to place, etc., etc., he quietly (and always fervently) says some little prayers. To make the matter doubly meritorious, he learns scores of indulgenced ejacu-lations and makes it a point to use only those and thus be a constant helper of the holy souls. Any prayers, different prayer~ remember. The purpose is recollection, walking in the presence of God. The means, the prayers, mental or oral. He calls twenty prayers said a unit. For each unit he marks one. If in the evening he has ten units, he marks simply 10 in'his booklet (which must always be' around and never neglected). That means 200 ejaculations during the day. ' It is almost'unbelievable hbw one can grow in union with God by means of a particular examefi like that. --"UNLESS YOU BECOME." Reverend Fathers: On what authority the price df Lex Propria was given (in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Nov., 1953, p. 330), we.do not know. However, this particular work was a one-printing edition solely for' Benedictine Abbeys and Convents. Notices to this effect were sent to Benedictine superiors and .an order card was included on which the only price given was 75 cents per copy, plus postage. Furthermore, all orders had to be placed before July 15. We have received a num-ber of orders since you p.ublished the wrong price (50 cents). We trust you will correct this in your next issue. --THE ABBEY STUDENT DRESS. 28 Reading J:or Religious Edward F. Garesch~, S.J. RELIGIOUS life remains the same in its essentials througl'i the ages, but how different are the circumstances in which the reli-gious of different periods have to live. This is notably true in regard to the supply of reading matter and the choice which religi6us of this time have to make among a multiplicity of books. In more simple ages. the volumes which religious read were few and preci6us.~° "In the days when everything was written by hand, books weke of great price and value. Now, the many devices for the multiplicatidn of print have d~luged the world with.books arid booklets and peri-odicals. On the one hand religious are offered volume after volume composed especially for their own use; on the other hand the eno?- mous quantity~of.secular publications intrudes even into the cloister." It is interesting to note.that, ifi spite of the great development of forms of entertainment, read, ing still holds its place as a popular: amusement. Hence the greater number of books and periodicals have this as their primary, purpose. They seek to tempt, readers to buy and' read for the motive of interest and amusement. "Serious and factual book~ are alsomultiplied withc~ut end. Every issueof the weekly book supplements contains a surprising number of titles; and of course not nearly all the published books can be reviewed. Many o~ them are not even mentioned. Through school libraries and the like, many religious have access to some of these current pub-lications. As to magazines, the revenue publishers secure from ad-vdrtising or from immense sale of copies makes them publish editions so large tfiat hardly anyone reads them thr6ugh. A Real Problem Now all this presents a real problem tothe devoted religious who wishes to love and serve God and to help his ffeighbor to.the'best of his powers. He knows that reading is a great means of instruction and of advancement in the spiritual life, that it is a source of infor-. marion useful in his work. But how shall he choose among so many books and periodicals? How shall he solve the problem of what is best for him to read? Someone may say that obedience will solve the problem for him. But the older religious especially, and those employed in important 29 EDWARD F. GARESCHI~ \ Reuiem for Religiou~ and responsible positions, are given a great deal of liberty in the choice of what they read. Even the younger members cannot always secure personal and specific guidance in this matter. Thus one may fall into a desultory habit of reading which deprives the mind and the heart of much precious sustenance and guidance, and wastes time which might be much better used. A careful consideration of this subject of what is best to read or leave unread ought to be helpful for many religious who sincerely wish to be as wise and holy as they can. To read is to feed one's mind, imagination, memory, and feelings. One can draw a close parallel therefore between the proper selections of mental and bodily food. A great deal is written and said nowadays about the importance of choosing .the right nourish-ment. Everyone is alert to the dangers of infected or contaminated food. The right proportion of hydrocarbons and proteins, of vita-mins and minerals, is known to b~ important for the preservation of health and strength. The danger of overweight and underweight, of a deficiency or excess of the elements of nutrition, is generally known. Importance of Reading But good spiritual, mental, and even emotional nourishment is no less important: indeed, it is far more essential to one's w~ll-being because the soul is so much superior to the body. Our happiness and holiness depend in gr~at measure on the nourishment we give our spiritual selves. Though conversation and experience are also very important, one of the great means by which we nourish our soul properly is the correct choice of our reading. Food ought to be appetizing in order to be more easily digestedl Similarly, reading that holds our attention and interest is usually more readily assimilated. To read out of custom or out of a sense of duty is meritorious, but things so read are not as likely to impress us and stay with us as those in which we are interested. Hence, when we choose books that appeal to us, they are more likely to help, everything else being equal. But these interesting books ought to be solid, important, and of special help to us. The great variety of spiritual books now available ought to make a choice easy. Superiors surely will be desirous to provide fo~ every religious what he most likes and needs in the way of spiritual nourishment. One plan that seems good and practical, for the large communi- 30' January, 1954 READING FOR RELIGIOUS ties, is to have a community library, with a librarian who will see to it that the worth-while spiritual books are quickly secured. Any religious, even from another house, can write to the librarian for the books he wishes to read, to be mailed to him in a special cover and returned in the same cover within a specified time. In this way, without too much expense, many religious can have the benefit of the community library. The community librarian will also become expert in advising religious about their reading. Several small com-munities might group together to support a central library; or the large communities might let the smaller ones share, perhaps for a small fee, in the facilities of their central library. These are means of ensuring that each religious may have the book he likes and needs. Life is so short find the good books are so numerous that we shall never be able to read them all even if we use every moment of our reading time. Why waste the precious hours, therefore, on use-less or inferior reading when the best is none too good for the hour-. ishment of mind and heart? Foremost among worth-while books are good lives of the saints. What could be more interesting in itself to the follower of Christ, who aspires t9 close and perfect union with Him, than to read how other souls attained that union? For-tunately, modern lives of the .saints try hard to tell the truth about the subjects of their stories, and so it. is possible for the religious who reads to learn a. great deal about holiness-in-action. Books of Devotion There are also many books of devotion, written from various ~iewpoints and about many subjects. Some of them are very old, written centuries ago, but are now appearing in new editions. There are also excellent modern books, whose style and manner are espe-cially adapted to the present-day mind and taste. It is to be noted, however, that these books, though they all beaf the imprimatur of the Church, are not all of equal value or authority. In fact the imprimatur means merely that there is nothing in th~ book against faith and morals. It does not mean that the authority issuing the imprimatur agrees with all the statements and ideas in the book. Each book has as much authority as its author can command. Even of the saints it is said that not everything they wrote was necessarily holy. Still more is it true that not everything in Cath-olic books of devotion is necessarily wise and prudent. Some empha-size one phase of piety, some another. Some recommend one devo- 31 EDWARD F. GARESCHi~ : tion and others insist dn quite different ones. Some good.souls inclined to be like ~he man who leaped on horseback and rode off rapidly' in all directions. They want to practice all devotions at once, .to follow all the different systems of asceticism. By .assimi-lating so many different spiritual ideas, good in themselves but gulped down indiscriminatingly, they contract a spiritual indiges-tion. Good spiritual books come under the second and third classes in Bacon's statement that some books are merely to be tas~ed, others to be chewed and swallowed, and still others to be digested thor-oughly. To read the Gospels or the Imitatibn of Christ, slowly and thoughtfully, may bring more spiritual benefit and solid nourish-ment than many times the hours passed in reading hastily less-abiding spiritual books~ Recreational Reading But nowadays the mind craves lighter and more recreational food, just as the bodily taste demands sweetmeats a~ad hors d'oeuvres. StiII,°even in recreational reading, the religious owes it to himself to exercise a prudent choice. How extremely foolish it.is, to ~ay nothing. worse, if one who is vowed to Christ takes up w?rldly and tainted .stories, magazines, and books. If be has no business with such books and periodisals, he freely opens his mind and imagination and feelings to the contamination of the world--an act of great unwis-dora, to say the least. Newspaper reading is almost needful for religious who teach, who write, or who have to deal with others. But what a difference there is between reading and reading when it comes to the news. Here a great waste Of time is possible when the reader wants to pore. over every item. SeIective reading will give, in a few moments, all that is worth-while in the daily papers. One can become accustomed also to very rapid reading which gathers the gist of the article in a frac.tion of time. About magazines and papers, nearly everything may be repeated that was°said about books. There are so many good ones; why waste time on the tainted and the trivial? Some experienced readers refuse to read any book that is less than a year old, because within a year the value of some books, if they ever had any, has quite disap-peared. Time is so precious and life is so short that when you do read a magazine be sure it i~ Worth-while. One way to insure the right sort of reading is to have it conven- Januar~t, 1954 RE!~DING FOR RELIGIOU~ iently at hand. We have said a great deal, in writing for lay folk. about the "book at the elb0,w." When we have a few moments to spare, we are not likely tb'go very far for what we reid. Rather, we pick up the book oh' periodicM that is nearest and begin to read it. Hence, to have good books and periodicals at hand is a great step towards getting them read. On the other hand, to keep worthless and trivial literature at a distance i~ the' best way to avoid wasting the precious moments we have for reading. The publishers, whether of books or magazines or newspapers, know this principle well, and they act:upon it to get their publica-tions bought and read. Wherex~er we turn, we see newsstands, book departments in stores, book and magazine counters even in drug-stores. It is the easiest thing in the world to pick up one's reading matter from all these sources, wherever we go. Henc.e, even into the Catholic home there pours a flood of best sellers and of popular magazines and newspapers which carry the world and the flesh into the sacred family circle. People wonder why they have so many distractions ~nd temptations, why their thoughts are often so trivial, why they dwell so little on th~ things of God and the interests of the Church. The reason is that they are victims of the powerful and ceaseless propaganda of high-salaried circulation managers and book agents. "'Dieting" Required Even into religious institutions some of these worldly and often- 'tainted publications find their way, and they are dressed up and flavored so as to deceive even the elect. But the poison for the soul is more deadly than that which ~nly affect~ the body. And, after years of reading these worldly publications, even religious need a strong antidote to keep them firm in faith and hope and love. It is hard and sometimes trying to .confine one's reading to what is best and noblest. Yet it is the o,nly reasonable course for a reli-gious to take. So also it is difficult at times for those who have to go on a reasonable and normal diet in order to preserve their health to keep strictly to what the doctor orders. In the one case as in the other, the reward is great. It is good to be healthful and vigorous, well nourished and of normal girth of body. But it is still" a hap-pier thing to be clean and strong of spirit; to have a mind, a heart, a will helped and nourished by a great faith, a burning hope, a vig-orous charity. Our conscious life of the mind is made up of a succes- EDWARD F. GARESCHI~ sion of thoughts, memories, impressions. If these are pure and joy-ful, holy and clean, then our life itself is so, because our thoughts color our days and bring them their sunshine or shadow. The ino ward life of thoughts, of will, of motives and desires is what makes us happy or unhappy, and we cannot readily perceive how much this is affected by what we read. ~,rhile thd religious ponders these things for his ownspiritual good and inner happiness, his charity will make him desire to help others also to choose well what they rea'd. ~vrhen you conceive an enthusiasm for a good and holy book, y.ou will be able to recom-mend it to others with more genuine interest, x~rhen you yourself choose your reading wisely and well, you will have more influence on the laity and even on your fellow religious to promote good reading. SPECIAL PUBLICATIONS We have received, with the compliments of The Most Reverend John Mark Gannon, Bishop of Erie, a beautifully bound and printed volume entitled l~VIemoirs¯ --The Semlrlarg 01: Montezuma. It contains the documents and writings of Bishop Gannon, Chairman of the Bishops' Committee for Montezuma Seminary, and of. his episcopal associates. The volume was prepared by The Very Reverend James M. Powers, Director of Charities in the Diocese of Erie. The book has not been placed on the market at this time; the present limited edition was subsidized by Bishop Gannon. This story of superb American Catholic charity which con-. tributed upwards 9f $1,500,000 to the education of Mexican priests, and of the seminary which to date has trained some 770 priests for the ministry in Mexico deserves wider dissemination. Cahiers de dosdphologie is a new periodical founded l~y the Research and DocL umentation Centre at St. Joseph's Shrine, Montreal. The Centre, which was estab-lished 'a few years ago, purposes to collect microfilms and publicatlons on St. Joseph and to promote various kinds of research, "to foster Josephology." It will be p.ublished twice a year. Price in American countries: $2.50 per year: $1.25 per copy. Address: Centre of Research and Documentation, St. Joseph's Shrine, Mon-treal 26, Canada. San Juan de la Cruz: Valor Psicologico de s& Doctrina, by Ft. Victorino Capanaga de San Agustln, won first prize among all the competitive works sub-mitted to the Spanish Universities on the occasion of the fourth centenary of the birth of St. John of the Cross. This study of the psychological value of St. John's mystical doctrine contains a long introduction, a section on the "structure of the soul," and a final section on "mystical phenomena." We received it from: Imp. Juan Bravo, 3, Madrid, Spain. No price given. 34 Aurelian Spiril:ualit:y Sister Mary of Carmel, R.P.B. [EDITORS' NOTE: The institute of the Sisters Adorers of the Precious Blood was founded at St. Hyacinthe, Quebec, by Mother Catherine Aurelia in 1861. It is a contemplative institute and should be distinguished from the Sisters Adorers of the Most Precious Blood, an active congregation. The present article concerns the con-templative institute, which has monasteries in Canada and the United States, as well as in Rome, Cuba, and 2apart. A monastery flourished in China until it was suppressed by the Com.munists. The mother house for the French-speaking section of the institute is at St. Hyacinthe: for the English-speaking section, at London, Ontario. ] BECAUSE of the centuries of Christian thought behind its intro-duction into the schools of spirituality, the teaching of Mother Catherine Aurelia of the Precious Blood, embodied in the Rule of her institute and in her writings, is enriched with the spiritual treasures of these schools and influenced by them, while presenting and maintaining individual characteristics. It hol~ls a reflection of the dignity and glory of its elder brothers and sisters in the history of the Church and from its lowlier place among them radiates a new light. If it is young in its almost one hundred years of existence, it is old in its devotion, the Precious Blood. This devotion extends to the age of the Apostles. Saint Paul writes of it in a sublime manner ¯ in his Epistle to the Hebrews, and Saint Peter associates with it the adjective which has become almost a part of the word. "Precious Blood" was written for the first time by the Prince of the Apostles in his first Epistle. The' devotion goes back further, to Calvary and the.sacred Passion of Our Lord, even to Hi~ infancy when, in the mystery of the Circumcision, He shed the first drops of His ,blood. Still further back through the centuries preceding the comii~g of Our Redeemer, His blood was prefigured in that of the sacrificial animals of the Old Law. Father Faber, in his excellent work on the Precious Blood, would take us in contemplation to the ageless now before the creation of the world and show us in his inimitable way the unbe-ginning procession of the Precious Blood emerging from the mind of God. With these ancient and sacred realties arching the edifice of her life of prayer, the Sister Adorer of the Precious Blood has an obliga-tion of nobility. She must be marked with the characteristics of a 35 SISTER MARY OF CARMEL Reoieto for Religious family that posesses an eternal crest--the shield of the Precious Blood of 3esus. In a world of great and worthy exterior activity, in an age of actionists, insignificance lends to the hiddenness of the life of the daughters of Mother Catherine Aurelia.In this they possess a s~trong bond with her and her cofoundresses to whom the Most Reverend Joseph LaRocque, Bishop of St. Hyacinthe and founder of the in-stitute, could say, "Nothing could surpass, beloved Daughters, the insignificance of your origifi . " Influences~ In the direction of Monsignor 2oseph Raymond, later to become cofounder of the Sisters Adorers of the Precious Blbod, we.find the earliest and the most prolonged notable influence on the soul of Aurelia Caouette, latdr Mother " Catherine Aurelia of the Precious Blood. The importance of that influence is brought before us in the wo~ds of Bisfiop 3oseph LaRocque which he spoke to the members of the community shortly after Monsignor Raymond's death' on the feast of the Precious Blood in 1887. "My. dear children," said the founder, "read the writings of your Father who had such great zeal for the sanctification of your souls; you will find therein the sub-stance of his piety and his heart." While still very'y~ung, Aurelia Caouette received, in the words of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, the inspiration which was the first indication of her vocation in life: "I feel in my soul all tl~e energy of tfae Divine Blood. It is a generous Blood which aspires o~ly to be shdd." In the fact that she was a tertiary in the order of Saint Dominic can'beseen the.,early influence of the Dominican Rule on her soul-li~e. Her attraction to the great Dominican, Saint Catherine of Sienal remained with her throughout the futhre years, although it is possible that the saint's outstanding devotion to the Precious Blood was its power. A Carmelite influence may be found in the modified similarity of the cloistered life of her spiritual daughters to that 6f their eider sisters of Carmel and in the blending of austerity with the lighthear~e~lness and joyful gaiety characteristic of Saint Teresa of Avila. That the spiritu.ality of Saint Ignatius of Loyola notably affected that of. Mother Catherine Aurelia and her spiritual datighters IAny" influences which came to the foundress in an e'xtraordinary manner have been omitted. da.nttary, 1954 AURELIAN SPIRITUALITY ! is evident. In chapter three of the Rule, which treats of mental prayer, we read, "The Adorers will therefore apply themselves with the greatest diligence 'to this holy exercise using principally the method o,f Saint Ignatius of Loyola." Here it is well to emphasize that, contrary to a general misinformed opinion, the "'method" of Saint Ignatius is not a set mould depriving the soul of that liberty of spirit in .which God delights; and to safeguard the religious against this error, she is cautioned: "Undoubtedly when the Holy Spirit makes His Divine operations felt in the soul, instructing ~nd directing her, she has only to abandon herself to the attractions and impressions which He communicates, without restricting herself rigorously to a method.': AlWays concerned with the prayer-life of the religious, the insti-tute provides advice for all. The beginner is encouraged by this prac: tical directive: "For the use of persons unable to meditate easily, Saint Ignatius toward the end of.his Spiri.tua.1 Exercises proposes three ways of praying appropriate to the dispositions and cap, ac.ity of those lea~t accustomed to prayer." There follows a detailed expla-nation of these in an extract from the Spiritual Exercises by Bel-licius. And through t'he pages of her Spiritual Directory, the Adorer is. guided in her conduct to the h.eighlts of contemplation, should God favor her with this gift. It is worth noting the co'nclu.din~ sentence in this section: "The soul should commit herself with docility to the direction of a wise and enlightened man and faith-f. ully obey him." The importanc~ rightly attached to the particular examen by the founders and foundress of the Sisters Adorers of the Precious Blood marks a further influence by the Saint of Loyola. An echo of his military strategy is held .in "Experience never fails, to prove these happy results in favor of souls who. make good use of the arms and method of the particular examen." The annual retreat is also to be made, as far as possible, after the method of Saint Ignatius. Lastly it is interesting to note that the Ignatian influence affects not only the prayer-life of the Adorer but extends to all her 'em-ployments: "No matter what employment is given her, she shows neither sadness, discontent, disquiet nor unhappiness." Saint Ignatius regarded all things as means to the glory and service of God, and the daughters of Mother Catherine Aurelia are urged to become ac- 37 SISTER MARY OF (~ARMEL Review for Religious quainted with¯ this holy indifference as it was understood by Saint Ignatius. The reciprocal influence of Bishop LaRocque and Mother Cath-erine Aurelia, founder and foundress of the institute,.is summarized in the words which he used when distributing the Rule books to the young community: "I must present the first copy to your Mother Foundress, as the representative of the whole Institt~te, of which she is truly the Mother, as I am the Father. I could have done ¯ nothing without her, as she would have done nothing without me." These lines also evidence the submission of the foundress, who penned the following excellent tribute: "O Father of our religious life, what do we not owe thee for the past! What do we not owe thee for the future--for the doctrine, the spirit you have left us: for the blessed pages that your hand has traced for us." Essential Principles The essential principles which gave birth to Mother Catherine Aurelia's requirements of her spiritual daughters, as found in the Rule and customs and in her writings, are worthy of consideration. There was a definite sense of balance evident in the outlook of the foundress. We can remark this first in her conception of God as holy and merciful. Her realization of His holiness is emphasized in her imposition of adoration and reparation as prima~y duties: and the religious are invited to represent to themselves the greatness, the pow.er, the infinite.majesty of God and their own misery, extreme in-digence, and profound baseness as motives for remaining annihi-lated in the divine presence. God, Who is infinite holiness, is out-raged by the sins of mankind, and Mother Catherine Aurelia calls upon her .daughters to make reparation and, as it were, places in their hands uplifted in prayer the expiatory chalice of the Precious Blood. The infinite mercy of God gives confidence to the religious of the Precious Blood in their intercession for sinners; and day after day, year after year, they plead for them, untiring in their ceaseless quest for souls. How could their efforts wane, with these words of their foundress and leader echoing in their hearts: "Beloved virgins, I conjure you to be holy! To become so, fix your feet on the rock of Calvary. It is ~here you will find the swiftness of the stag in order to run to the conquest of souls without ever deviating from the path which God for this purpose has traced out for you. It is there you will find the strength to fight valiantly and generously. For your 38 ,January, 1954 AURELIAN SPIRITUALITY armour you will have prayer, penance, separation from the world and the mortification of your body, heart and soul." Participating in Mother Catherine Aurelia's conception of Christ, her spir.itual daughters regard Him principally in His charac-ter of Redeemer accomplishing redemption by the shedding of His blood. Each day at the moment which marks the time of His death on Calvary, the religious, prostrate before Him, say: "Jesus has shed all His Blood for love of us and died on the cross. Let us adore Him and thank Him." The approach to Christ is one of reverence and of confidence, from which emanates desire. The intensity of that de-sire bursts forth in sincere efforts to bring to souls the fruits of the Precious Blood shed so fully for all. Christ, the High Priest, by His own blood obtained for us an everlasting redemption, as Saint PauI tells us. In her Rule, in the conferences of her Father Founder and in the counsels of her Mother Foundress, the Sister Adorer of the Precious Blood is invited to regard Christ as her Spouse also, "united with Him no less by sentiments of tender love and persevering piety than they are closely and especially consecrated by the Vows of Religion." Mother Catherine Aurelia's outlook on human nature was a recognition of its potentialities. She saw ir capable, as it is, of op-posites-~ its power to sin, its power to love God. She beheld the sublime possibilities of the human soul aided by grace, never effaced by the greatness of sin because of the power of the redeeming Blood ba treasure of which the Adorers are, in a sense, administrators in the interests of those who are not of the perfect age of grace, retarded by ignorance, indifference, or sin. "By dwelling on creatures the mind is kindled into loving divine goodness. For all the perfections scattered throughout thff universe flow together in him who is the spring of all goodness. If therefore the goodness, beauty and freshness of creatures so draw our hearts, how much more then God who is their source? Creatures are but rivulets, he is the main stream.''~ Thus teaches Saint Thomas Aquinas, and these dispositions towards created things are evident in the writings of Mother Catherine Aurelia. She was conscious of the beauty of nature. By it her thoughts were lifted to heaven and to the omnipotence of God, not to creatures, for even in the most per-fect of them she found inadequacy. 2Thomas Gilby, Philosophical Texts, n. 127. 39 SISTER MARY O1~ CARMEL Review [or Religious' _Perfection Having briefl~r considered these conceptions, it is interesting to observethe ideal ofperfection as it is understood by the members of the.community, an ideal handed down by the founders and fdundress. For their, spiritual daughters, perfection consists in ui~ion with God. They know that religious perfection must built on the foiafidation of Christian perfection'; that all Christians share the obligation to fulfill our divine Lord's command, "Be you therefore perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect"i that the duties coinmon to all the followers of Christ are to b~ fulfilled according to on'd's st~ite with intensity and exactitude. A )eligious must direct ti~i steps tothe perfection of love and in this consists the genera!. spi~!t Of the ~eligio'us state, while she must possess also the particular spirit of her community. For contemplative religious this consists in the" striving after, advancing in, and perfecting of the interior life and:in the faithful dbservance of the rules and constitutions of her c6fiamuni~y. 'Saifit Paul has saitl, "This is tl~e will of God, yotir' Sandtification."" The daughter of Mother Catherine Aurelia might v~ith all truth say, "This, my Rule, is the Will of God for me, the means of my sanctification." The. Rule is not mere letteri It is spirit too. The latter gives life and love and meaning to the former. Destiny In the preface of her Rule, the religious is given the glorious des-tiny. of the community--to retrace and reflect, as much as possible, the imag~ of the divine charity in the shedding of .blood. Christ loved His Father in a sublime act of reparation; He.loved mankind in offering to men redemption by His blood. The heart, of the re-ligious must b~, as it were, a replica of the love-filled heart of Christ, offering that-love in which hers is immersed by her fidelity to the obligations she has embraced. Her love for her fellow beings' com-mences in the cloister and reaches out to embrace the world and be-yond. Mother Catherine Aurelia, in the burning desire of her heart, had said that she would like to see the words, "Charity, Union ~nd Concord," written in letters of gold on the wails of all her monas-teries. That was a symbolism of her desire that the perfection of charity be inscribed in the thoughts, words, and deeds of all of her spiritual daughters in their associations with one another. The Crucifixion of Our Lord is the most silent and the most tre- 4O AURELIAN ,SPIRITUALITY mendous "I love y6u" ever known. It is a divine love song Written to the rhythm of blood softly falling from "His great wounds. What an exalted ideal of love is set before the religious! She must bring to souls the fruits of Christ's sacrifice--sanctification and salvation. In doing so she must, as has been stated, retrace and reflect as much as possible the divine charity. Her day is the Passion! Its dawn finds her prostrate in union with.Jesus in the Garden of 0lives. At dusk she is in hdoration of Jesus Christ in the mystery of His death and burial and in adoration of the eternal repose which God takes in Himself. How can she be happy with the weight of divine sorrow ~on-stantly within her? This is one of the delightful paradoxes of our holy faith. The daughter of Mother Catherine Aurelia experiences the indescribable happiness bf union with ~he Beloved. Than this, no greater happiness can exist on earth. Moreover she hag the flap: piness of proving her love by participation in His desires, His suf-ferings, and His sacrifice. She has the enviable certainty of knowin~ the willof the Bdloved at each moment of her life and in Him the strength to fulfill it. She enjoys the contentment of doing what she desires to do upon earth in following her ~tocation and has the well-founded hope of continuing in the perfection of her vocation of adorer thrqughout a joyous eternity. The silence of the divine charity which she endeavours to reflect is in her seclusion from the world and, in the cloister, more inti-mately in the hi.ddenness of her life with Christ in God. Particular Ends Sharing the common end of all contemplative religious, the Sis-ters Adorers o~ the Precious Blood have four special ends. (1) To render repeatedly their loving homage to the ~dorable blood of God made Man, poured forth for the sal3ration of the hu-man rude. "To adore[ Ah this is her unique element on earth," Mother Catherine Aurelia had written of each spiritual daughter, and her loving homage is a homage of adoration. Her whole life. is constituted to attain this end, and the means are prudently presented to her in her Rule and hdr Spiritual Directory. (2) To glorify and honor in a particular manner Mary Im-maculate in her Conception. This is a complement of the aim Of her religious life. Seven years after the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception fell from the lips of the Sovereign 41 SISTER MARY OF CARMEL Revieu~ [or Religious pontiff, young Catherine Aurelia and her cofoundresses assumed for themselves and for all generations of their .religious community the joyful obligation of paying special homage to the Mother of God in the exalted privilege of her Immaculate Conception. Long years before Our Lady came from heaven to the Cova da Iria to appeal to all her children to be mindful of bet heart, the foundress appealed to her religious to take their delight in that pure heart, urging them to learn how the holy Heart of Mary takes her greatest delight in the privilege of her Immaculate Conception. Through the Immaculate Virgin we have the Precious Blood. In view of the sbeddlng of the Precious Blood, Mary was given the privilege of immaculacy from the first moment of her conception. It is a necessity that the one devotion be associated with the other. Into the dovecote of Mary's Immaculate Heart, Mother Cather-ine Aurelia placed her daughters. She enkindled in them a courage .which cfin come only in having M~ry Immaculate as their co-worker and mediatrix, "that her daughters might be strengthened. To what purpose? ". to work for the glory of the Blood Divine!" (3) To assiduously adore Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament of the altar. "Assiduously" gives to the religious some idea of the in-tensity of the adoration expected of her. It must be a painstaking, persevering adoration. She is in the presence of the Blessed Sacra-ment many times in the course of the day; but in the moments which constitute her hour of adoration of ,lesus in the Blessed Sacrament, her obligation is more specific, more personal; for then the entire community is depending on her to fulfill in a direct manner in its name the third principal end of its existence. It is then that she is expected to accomplish the desire of ~lesus by offering His blood and with it to unite the offering of her entire being for His service and glory. (4) To devote themselves (as victims), if God will accept them, and continually offer to the Lord the merits of the blood of Jesus Christ to obtain the conversion of sinners. It may be noted here that the Holy See cancelled the expressions "victim," "immolation" in the Rule and Spiritual Directory; and in keeping with the spirit of this directive the Sisters themselves changed the dialogue in the cere-monial of profession. However, since it is evident that Rome did not object to the idea of complete self-giving which the founders in-tended by such expressions as "victim" and "immolation," the founders' writings are kept unchanged. 42 danua~/, 1954 AURELIAN ~PIRITUALITY "Many souls go to Hell because there is no one to make sacrifices for them." These words of Our Lady of Fatima remind forgetful mankind of the fecundity of sacrifice and of our duties towards our fellow beings. Meditation on them will bring a realization of the saneness of this particular end of the vocation of a Sister Adorer of the Precious Blood and of the necessity of this purpose. Because many do not make their share of sacrifices for sinners, there must be others who will assume the responsibility of filling up what is wanting on the part of the human race. The indifference, ingrati-tude, and sinfulness with which the Precious Blood is treated, the want of respon.se .to divine love, urge the daughter of Mother Cath-erine Aurelia to embrace her vocation as a reparatory soul, and over and dyer again she is reminded of this by her holy founders and foundress. She "offe.rs herself in union with Him, her.Model, and her Spouse of Blood." The merits of that blood are ransom which she offers for the conversion of sinners. F.rom.her fidelity to this purpose of her vocation emanates a consolidation of true interests, a solidarity which strongly unites her to her fellow creatures through-out the world although she is exteriorly separated from them by the nature of that vocation and the sacrifices she has embraced. Suffering Suffering is inseparable from man during his sojourn on earth. His attitude towards it affects his endurance of it, for endure it he must. A burden willingly assumed is a lighter burden. Mother Catherine Aurelia regarded suffering as an opportunity. Every occasion of it was grasped avidly because she had a true sense of its value. Her Redeemer and Spouse had taught her this and her life was a testimony of her appreciation of the cross. She called her spiritual daughters "Virgins of Calvary" and referred to sufferings as their jewels. To a woman, jewels are precious because of their value, and they are an adornment. See, then, what sufferings are to the Adorer of'the Precious Blood! They are not depressing, some-thing to be avoided. They are a precious adornment. Just as the wounds of Jesus are an eternal, glorious proof of His infinite love for us, sufferings willingly accepted are,. to the daughter of Mother Catherine Aurelia,' so many opportunities of imitating her Spouse, of making her like unto Him, and of testifying her love--small wounds indeed compared to the great wounds of Christ, and often,hidden; but wounds, nevertheless, telling Him of her responding love. On SISTER MARY OF (~ARME~L Review [or Religious the occasion of taking her departure from a daughter-house of her community, the foundress said, "I leave happy in the thought that we are going to suffer and' to suffer much." This was not an atti-tude occasioned by an isolated circumstance, but it was her constant regard for the cross. Labour "St. Thomas considered the contemplative life, to which are added exterior Works, the most useful and meritorious. This life is yours, for though contemplatives, you have your hours of work ac-cording to the Rules and obedlence. Thus wrote Bisl~op LaRocque and thus, too, did Mother Catherine Aurelia regard labour: "Wholly penetrated with sentiments imbibed from the pious ex~rcises of prayer, of Mass and of Holy Communion, the Sisters will each morning take up with holy joy the yoke of labour and observanc.es truly crucifying. They will submit thereto like humble sinners, dbing eveiytbing' in a spirit of expiation, and to accomplish the special end of our Institute, which is to save souls, not only by player but also by work, which our blessed Father Founder regarded a~ one of our principal penances." Again, Bishop LaRocque im-posed labour upon the members of the community as a compensation for the austerities of the great religious orders. A thirst for fruitful penance was expected of his spiritual daughters. This is to be satis-fied by the joyful acceptance of the work allotted to them; a gen-erosity in assisting the overburdened; a peace, calmness, 'and gravity in the performance of their ta~k~. The horary of t'he. community presents a well-ordered" day, gua.rding the hours of prayer from the " intrusion of ill-regulated manual duties, and instilling into the hours of Work the spirit of continual prayer. Glory to the Blood of Jesus . - Glory has been defined as knowledge to which is linked admi~a-tion, as splendour, honour, renown. In these definitions we per-ceive that the "heart-cry" of the daughter of Mother Catherine Au-relia, sincerely accepted, is weighted with a responsibility~a respon-sibility to do all within her power, assisted and enlightened by 'God, to increase her knowledge of the mystery of the Precious Blood; arid as that knowJedge becomes expansive, there emanates a relatively in-creasing admiration, . and the Sister Adorer is filled with the desire to give glory to the blood of Jes{as. It is her duty, as well as her de-sire, to pray incessantly that the Precious Blood may be known; 44 January, 1954 "APPARITIONS" OF OUR LADY loved, and received with ardent faith by all men: It is therefore ob-vious that the plan of Redemption, the Incarnation, the seven blood-sheddings, the Sacred Passion and death of Our Redeemer, and the Blessed Sacrament are subjects for meditative prayer dear to the heart of every Adorer, for in them her knowledge is increased and her zeal animated to radiate from the. confines of her hidden life to souls throughout the world; and for them her supplications become more fervent that their knowledge, too may increase and that fitting homage to the adorable Precious Blood ensue. These dispositions must impregnate each moment of the life of the Adbrer, and the very beginning of her foundress's sublime, "Remember, O my DaughtEr," bursts with startling suddenness into the words that bring an awareness of the obligation attendant on her throughout each moment of her life, "that the cry of thy heart should be, 'Glory to the Blood'," and in this is the unifying and culminating purpose of the varied duties of her particular vocation. The spirit of the community is a challenge that is taken'to, the extent of the individual's understanding and appreciation of the concept!ons of the founders and foundress and to the extent also of her own generosity aided by the grace of God. "APPARITIONU' OF OUR LADY° The August, 1952, number of The Clergy Monthly contains a list of alleged apparitions of Our Lady during the years, 1931-50. The list was first published. by a German magazine in Europe in December, 1951; and up ,to that time only two of the apparitions had been approved by ecclesiastical authorities, whereas four-teen had been rejected. Six were still undecided. Whether any further decision has been made on these six, we do not know. Following is the list as it appeared in The Clergy Monthly: Approved 1932/33 Beauraing, Belgium. 2 boys. 3 girls. 1933: Banneux, Belgium, 1 girl--12 years old. 8 apparitions. Rejected, 1931: Ezquioga, Spain. 2children: later up to 150 "seers." 1937/40: Heede, Westphalia. 4 girls--12-14 years, old. apparitions. 1944: Bergamo, Italy. 1 girl--7 years old.12 apparitions. 1947 : Bouxieres-aux-Dames, Belgium, 1947: Espis, France. 1947/49: Forstweiler, Wiirttemberg. 1 woman. 8 apparitions. 1948: Assisi, Italy. Crowd. A statue of Mary moves. 1948: Gimigliano, Italy. 1 girl--13 years old. More than 100 45 PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS 1948: Lipa, Philippines. 1 postulant in a convent¯ 1948: Aspang, Austria. 1 man~61 years old. 1949: Fehrbach, Palatinate. 1 girl--12 years old. 8everal apparitions. 1949: Hasznos, Hungary. Crowd. 1949: Lublin, Poland. Crowd. "Our Lady weeps." 1949/50: Heroldsbach, Bavaria. 4 girls and other children. Many apparitions. Undecided 1945: Codosera, Spain. 1 girl--10 years old; later up to 100 "seers." ¯ 1946: Pfaffenhofen, Bavaria. 1 girl--22 years old. 3 apparitions. 1947: Tre Fontane, Rome. 1 man, 3 children. 1947: Urucaina, Brasil. 1 priest. (Cures.) 1948: Cluj, Rumania. Crowd. 1950: Acquaviva Platani,. Sicily. 1 girl--12 years old. 7 apparitions. PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin: The Chris-tian Life Calendar, by Rev. Gabriel W. Hafford and Rev. George Kolanda. $1.00. CATECHETICAL GUILD EDUCATIONAL SOCIETY, St. Paul 1, Minnesota: Mary Talks to Us, by Don Sharkey. 15 cents.--The Family Rosary, by Joseph A. Breig. 15 cents. FIDES PUBLISHERS ASSOCIATION, Chicago 10, Illinois: Con[irmation, 25 cents, THE GRAIL, St. M~inrad, Indiana: From Five to Nine, by Bruno McAndrew, O.S.B. 25 cents.--Our Mother, by Emile Neubert, S.M. 25 cents.~ur Lady of the Hermit, by Paschal Boland, O.S.B. 5 cents.--Little Saints, by John and Margaret Moore. $1.50.---Friends Indeed, by Robert Wood, S.M. 15 ccnts.-~Be You Perfect, by Robert B. Eiten, S.J. 15 cents.--The Mass Year. 35 cents.--His Name Is desus, by Julia C. Mahon. $2.00. SCAPULAR PRESS, New York City 16, New York: Life with Mary, by Thomas McGinnis, O. Carm. 50 cents. SHEED AND WARD, New York 3, New York: Are We Really Teaching Relig-ion?, by F. J. Sheed. 75 cents. ST. JAMES FRIARY, Riverton, Illinois: My Spiritual Director, by Ft. Athana-sius Steck, O.F.M. 50 cents. TEMPLEGATE, PUBLISHERS, Springfield, Illinois: A Map of Prayer, by Fr. R. H. J. Steuart, S.J.--The Path of Prayer, by Ft. Vincent McNabb, O.P.-- Contemplative Prayer, by Pete de la Taille, S.J.--The One Thin9 Necessary, by Rev. Bruno Scott James.-~Detight In The Lord, by Fr. Daniel Considine, S.J.-- Fifty Meditations on the Passion, by Archbishop Goodier, S.J.--Wbat Is Contem-plation, by. Thomas Merton, O.C.S.O.--A Treatise on Interior Prayer, by Dom Innocent Le Masson.--Meditations on the Litany of the Sacred Heart, by Juliana of Norwich.--"A More Excellent Way," by Archbishop Goodier, S.J.--Treatise on the Religious Life, by Dom Innocent Le Masson. 35 cents for each booklet. 46 THE SPIRITUALITY OF ST. IGNATIUS LOYOLA. By Hugo Rahner, S.J. Translated by Francis John Smith, S.J. Pp. xvll -I- 142. The Newman Press, Westm;nsfer, Maryland: 1953. $2.75. Although the title does not suggest it, Father Hugo Rahner's purpose in this book is "to present the development of the essential features and history of the spirit; of service in the Church." St. Ignatius Loyola was a man of the Church with an ideal of perfection essentially formed by service in the Church. Hence, the origin of his spirituality provides the author with a concrete ex-a, mple in which to study the development of the essential features of the spirit of service. Each of the three influences that went into the spirituality crystallized in the Spiritual Exercises is considered: first, the influence of Ignatius's family, country, and culture: then, the in-fluence of traditional Christian piety, especially as it reached Ignatius in the Imitation of Christ and in the spiritual readin~ of.his conva-lescence- conversion at Loyola (Ludolph of Saxony's The Life of Christ and Jacopo de Voragine's The Golden Legend); finally, the decisive influence of the mystical illumination granted to the saint at Manresa along the banks of the River Chrdoner. In this experience "Ignatius, the pilgrim and the penitent, was made over into the man of the Church"; here he became aware of how his limitlessly ex-pansive love for God was to be submitted to the service and given form within the visible Church. Turning from the development to the history of the spirit of service in the Church, Father Rahner merely indicates the historical continuity of this spirit by sketching its characteristics in a few key "men of the Church": the first St. Ignhtius, of Antioch (whose name Inigo de Loyola appropriated after his conversion), St. Basil, St. Benedict, St. Augustine ("the greatest of all the men of the Church"), the Sienese Saints Bernardine and Catherine. In this perspective St. Ignatius of Loyola appears as one of the long series of providential figures raised up by the Holy Spirit at critical times in history to re-emphasize the truth that there is no true service of God that is not service somehow in the visible Church. This study is as rich as it is brief. The text reads so easily (thanks to the fully satisfactory translation by Francis J. Smith, S.J.) that one needs to consider the twenty full pages of documenta- 47 BOOK NOTICES Reoietv for Religious tion in order to realize that Father Rahner has given us here nothing but the distilled essence of an immense work of research. All who love "that true spouse of ,Jesus Christ, our holy Mother, the hier-archical Church" will be grateful for the understanding of the spirit of service in the Church afforded by'this book. All to whom Ig-natian spirituality is important will find in Father Rahner's work a most penetrating insight into the meaning Of the Spiritual Exercises. --JOHN FRANCIS CLARKSON, S.,J. BOOK NOTICES REDEMPTIVE INCARNATION, by Albert L. Schlitzer, C.S.C., continues Notre Dame's University Religion Series, Theology for' the Layman. This book covers the matter usually treated under Christology, Soteriology, and Mariology in seminary manuals. The topics are proposed as questions in pleasing imit~ition of St. Thomas Aquinas. In each case the theological sources are cited: Sacred Scrip- " ture, Fathers of the Church, councils, papal decrees--all concluded by a clear statement of the theological development of doctrine. In-cluded at the end of each chapter are review questions and addenda showing the impact on daily life of the truth studied. Differences of opinion among theologians are sometimes indicated but generally not developed. Little space is given to modern speculative develop-ments. Thus the Blessed Virgin Mary as co-redemptrix in objective redemption is barely mentioned and hesitatingly so. No mention is made of human solidarity with Christ in His redemptive "work. Nothing is said of Mary's Queenship. But professors of college re-ligion may very, profitably examine this paper-bound book before selecting a~ text for their classes. It is a theological work, devoted to sources and an understanding of the faith, rather than a mere phi-losophy of religion. (Notre Dame, Indiana: University ~f Notre Dame Press, 1953. Pp. x -t- 337. $2.50). All religious should be interested in PROGRESS IN THE RELI~ GIOUS LIFE, by' Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. The book is written with the priest-religious in mind, but everything in it is of val,ue to all re-ligious. Father Kelly's basic principle is that the religious life is a call to growth in perfection; in other words, the divine call which brings one to the novitiate does .not stop with the taking of vows~ We are all called to make progress, and the reading of this book will danuarg, 195 4 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS encourage us to answer the call. It gives an analysis of the meaning of progress and then in a very practical way shows how the mature religious can and does make progress through the use of the sacra-ments, prayer, the vows, and the other things that make up the life of a religious. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1953. Pp. 128. $2.50.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis-consin. , , The Quest ot: Honor. By E. Boyd Barrett. "Honor," writes the author, "calls for courage andindependence; it demands that a man be indifferent to what people may say or think. Honor is con-cerned about doing what is right, and not about winning p~aise." The short chapters in the' book contain much good advice on how to be honorable. Pp. xi ~ 122. $2.50. Character Calendar. By Sister M. Fidelis, S.S.N.D., and Sister M. Charitas, S.S.N.D. Revised edition by Sister M. Charitas. Con-tains a practical meditation, based on the liturgy, for each day of the year. Pp. viii + 280: $1.85 (paper). The Less Traveled Road. By Rev. M. Raymond, O.C.S.O. A memoir of Dom Frederic Mary Dunne, O.C.S.O., the first American Trappist Abbot. "I have found Him using the Trappist life to form Dom Frederic, and Dom Frederic to form the Trappist life. So I am going to try to give you a glimpse of the divine Smithy at work and to show how He hammers a soul on the anvil of time to shape it and temper it for eternity." This is the author's promise; the book is its fulfillment. Pp. viii ÷ 250. $3.50. Mg Monthlg Recollection Day. A compilation from the spir-itual treasury of Very Rev. William Gier, S.V.D., edited by Bruno. Hagspiel, S.V.D. Contain~ a meditation or conference for each monthly-recollection day throughout the year; also introductory and concluding spiritual thoughts and practices. Pp. x ÷ 177. $2.50. A Rich Young Man. By dohn E. Beahn. A partly fictional story of St. Anthony of Padua. Pp. 250. $3.25. Spiritual Steps to Christmas. By Very Rev. Msgr. Aloysit~s F. 49 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious Coogan. "A thought a day through Advent to the glory and peace of Christmas morning is the substance of this book." Pp. 116., $2.25. Paul the Apostle. By Giuseppe Ricciotti. Translated by Alba Zizzamia. This author of a fascinating Life of Christ says: "It seemed I should continue for the disciple the work I had done on the Master." The present book shows that the life of the disciple may be summed up in his own words: "Be imitators of me as I am of Christ." A scholarly study, with complete general index and special index of Scripture quotations. Pp. xi -[- 540. $7.50. THE FAMILY ROSARY, 432 Western Ave., Albany 3, N.Y. Father Pettton's Rosary Pra!ler Book. Contains 180 short reflec-tions pertaining to the Mysteries of the Rosary. Material "prepared by a Trappist monk at the request of Father Peyton. Pocket-size, beautifully printed, and well bound. Pp. xxviii+228. $1.00. FIDES, 25 est, rue Saint-Jacques, Montreal, Canada. Principes de Vie Sacerdotale et t~e[igieuse. By the Most Rev. AI-bert- F. Cousineau, C.S.C., former Superior General of the Congre-gation of the Holy Cross. Contains a brief biography and an expo-sition of the spirituality of Father Moreau, the founder of the Con-gregation of the Holy Cross. Pp. 262. $2.00 (paper). FORDHAM UNIVERSITY PRESS, New York 58, N.Y. The Training of Cor~verts. Contains the record of the first mis-siological conference ever held in the United States. Pp. vii -}- 165. $2.00 (paper). $1.50 in lots of ten or more. M. H. GII~L AND SON, LTD., 50 Upper O'Connell St., Dublin, Ire-land. A Guide for Catholic Teachers. By M. T. Marnane. In the Preface to this book, the Archbishop of Dublin says: "This book will show with cogent and persuasive warmth the method by which a Catholic teacher may, while striving for due professional excel-lence, achieve the goal of bringing the mind and will and body and emotions of every pupil into c,aptivity to the truth of Jesus Christ." Pp. xiv q- 164. 9s. 6d. THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Nothing but Christ. By Killian McDonnell, O.S.B. A.Bene-dictine approach to lay spirituality, designed to help men and wom-en in the world to live a spiritual life according to the spirit 6f St. Benedict. Pp. xiv + 185. $2.00. .50 ,danuary, 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS B. HERDER BOOK CO., 15 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. General Education and The Liberal College. By William F. Cunningham, C.S.C. The book is the fruit of much thought and discussion on the part of leading Catholic educators in the United States who had worked for more than a decade on the problem of Catholic liberal education. Pp. xvii -}- 286. $4.00. E. M. LOHMANN COMPANY, 413 Sibley St., St. Paul 1, Minn. Large Saint Andrew Dail~t Missal. An entirely new edition of this very popular missal, prepared by Dom Gaspar Lefebvre, O.S.B. It contains the latest Masses; proper feasts for the United States; various feasts kept in some places or by certain religious communi-ties (e.g., St. Maria Goretti, St. Louise de Marilloc) ; larger type for notes, commentaries, and the English text throughout the Missal; the Easter Vigil; etc. Available in same bindings and prices as the previous edition with the exception of the cheapest binding, which is now $6.25 (formerly $6.00). MCMULLEN BooKs, INC., 22 Park Place, New York 7, N.Y. Light on the Mountain. By John S. Kennedy. The story of La Salette, told "with a freshness and charm that will delight all." Pp. 205. $3.00. The Story of Father Price. By John C. Murrett, M.M. This is an abridgment of the author's original biography of the cofounde~ of Maryknoll, Tar Heel Apostle. Pp. 116. $i.50. Come, Holy Ghost. By Bishop Francis Xavier Ford, M.M., D.D. Contains twenty short chapters, each developing some aspect of devotion to the Holy Ghost, especially with reference to one of the invocations of the "Veni, Sancte Spiritus." . Pp. xii -4- 113. $1.50. St. John of God. By Norbert McMahon. The story of the founder of the Hospitallers of St. John-of-God and patron of the sick and the dying. A very readable biography. Pp. 205. $2.75. Jesus, Son of Mar~ . By Most Rev. Fulton J. Sheen. Illustrated by Rafaello Busoni. Bishop Sheen's only juvenil'e; first published in 1947. $I.00. MONASTERY OF THE VISITATION, Wilmington, Delaware. "'The Siloer is Mine." A brief history of St. Joseph's Monastery of the Visitation in Wilmington, Delaware, commemorating the first centenary of foundation from the Monastery of Montluel, France. Pp. xii q- 117. 51 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. ' John the Baptist. By Andr~ R~tif. A study of The Precursor, especially with reference to Scripture and the writings of the Fathers. Pp. x -b 122. $2.50. Wb~ I Entered the CoJ~oent. Edited by Rev. George L. Kane. In the Preface the editor aptly states: "There are scores of helpful books and pamphlets on the subject of religious vocation, but most of these are, of their nature, abstract and general. There seemed a need in vocational literature for case histories to show the applica-tion of the theological principles in specific instances and to manifest the workings of God's grace in individual souls. It is the hope of the authors and the editor that this book will help to supply that need." A random sampling of these accounts by twenty-one Sisters indicates that the hope is realized. A real contribution to vocational litera-ture. Introduction by the Archbishop of Boston. Pp. xvii q- 214. $2.50. PRENTICE-HALL, INC., 70 Fifth Ave., New York 11, N.Y. The Springs of Silence. By Madeline DeFrees (Sister Mary Gilbert, S.N.3.M.). Another story of a religious vocation and of life in the convent, told with simplicity, with delicate realism, with a fine sense for the humorous--without overdoing it or forcing it. Well written, well printed, and attractively illustrated by Hazard Durfee. Pp. x -t- 173. $2.95. FREDERICK PUSTET (20., 14 Barclay St., New York 8, N.Y. Trinitg Whom I Adore. By Dom Eugene V.andeur, O.S.B. The prayer of Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity, with a commentary. Translated from the French by the Dominican Nuns of Corpus Christi Monastery, Menlo Park, California. Pp. xxviii -f- 163. $2.75. SHEED ~ WARD, 830 Broadway, New York 3, N.Y. Shepherd's Tartan. By Sister Mary Jean Dorcy, O.P. A man (meaning the male of the species) has to begin this book by looking up the meaning 6f "tartan." He finds that the

Issue 13.2 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; Review for Religious MARCH 15, 1954 Foreign Missions for Communities Charles H. Helmsing -Voca÷ional Ideal . Joseph P. Fisher Life Conformed to Mary . Louis J. Puh~ External Grace and Religious . ~John J. Stochl Annunciation Thoughts . . ~ . Paul Dent Are You a Jellyfish? . Bruno M. Hagspiel ' Controversy on Obedience . Richard W. Rousseau Benediction . Pete~" Goodman Secular Institutes . Francis N. Korth Questions and Answers News and Views Book Reviews VOLUMe. XIII NUMBER 2 RI VII W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIII MARCH, 1954 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS A FOREIGN MISSION FOR EVERY AMERICAN COMMUNITY?m Most Reverend Charles H. Helmsing, S.T.D. 57 NEWS AND VIEWS . 61 VOCATIONAL IDEAL--Joseph P. Fisher, S.J . 64 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 68 LIFE CONFORMED TO THE IMAGE OF MARY-~ Louis J. Puhl, S.J . 69 BACK NUMBERS WANTED . 72 EXTERNAL GRACE AND THE' RELIGIOUS LIFE-- John J. Stochl, S.J . 73 ANNUNCIATION THOUGHTS--Paul Dent, S.J . 77 ARE YOU A JELLYFiSH?mBruno M. Hagspiel, S.V.D . 79 A RECENT CONTROVERSY ON OBEDIENCE-- Richard W. Rousseau, S.J . 87 BENEDICTION--Brother Peter Goodman, C.S.C . 93 BOOK REVIEWS . 95 BOOK NOTICES . 97 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 97 ABOUT SECULAR INSTITUTES--Fra.r, eis N. Korth, S.J . 105 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 7. Percentage of Income to Mother House . 109 8. What Is Meant by a First Councilor? . 109 9. Power of Superior General in Novitiate . ll0 10. Gift Money for Mass Stipends . ll0 II. May MiStress of Novices be Provincial Councilor.;' . ll0 12. Veil before Blessed Sacrament . Ill 13. Visits Required for Gaining Indulgences . Ill 14. Visitation at Mother House . Ill 15. Information on Chapter of Faults . ll2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1954, Vol. XIII, No. 2. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbatiori. Entered as second class matter January 15. 1942, at the Post Office, under, the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright. 1954, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price:" 3 dollars a year: 50 c~nts a copy. Printed in U. S. A. before writincj to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. A Foreign Mission t:or F:very American Community? Most Reverend Charles H. Helmsing, S.T.D. THESE reflections stem from an unheralded visit of a native Fili-pino bishop. Weary and disappointed, he told of his unfruit-ful visits to eight mother houses. Responsible for more than a million Catholics, he has a total of sixty-seven priests to care for them. He has only five Catholic schools taught by religious and a total of forty-eight sisters. He came to me with a missionary priest and a zealous local pastor. ¯ It was the latterwho launched the dis-cussions leading to these paragraphs. The writer had interrupted Matins for the new year of grace: "Regern uentururn Dorninurn uenite adorernus"--"Come let us adore the Lgrd, the King who is to come." It is his prayerful hope that when these reflections are rdeditated upon by harassed general and provincial superiors, they may mean the coming of the King of kings to. many souls in the field afar. Most religious communities are familiar with the Missionary Plan of Cooperation, known in the family of Mission Directors as M.P.C.1 Briefly, M.P.C. means that the parish gives prayers and alms and the visiting missionary gives missionary knowledge, mo-tivation, and zeal. In other words, the missionary receives material and spiritual assistance, and the parish receives an increase of apos- IThe Missionary Plan of Cooperation is a method of soliciting funds for specific mission-sending societies or missions. On application to the Diocesan Director of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith, a society with personnel in the missions or a missionary bishop is assigned a group of parishes in the diocese. Then, on dates agreed upon with the local pastors, the mission procurator or bishop preaches at all the Sunday Masses, indoctrinates the faithful in reference to his particular mission, its activities, progress, and needs, and finally makes a financial appeal. This appeal for funds is in addition to the membership offerings of the faithful and the Mission Sunday offerings to the general fund of the Society for the Propa-gation of the Faith. Under the Plan, the Director of the Pontifical Society as-signs a missionary to every parish of the diocese annually. This missionary, by recounting the particulars of his own work, arouses an interest in all mission work. Thus, while the Society for the Propagation of the Faith helps mission-sending societies over and above the general funds that are apportioned by the Holy Father, the missionary who participates in the Plan cooperates by engendering in the faith-ful a spirit of Catholicity and apostolicity. Without a doubt, the Plan accounts, at least in part, for the tremendous growth in mission interest and mission support during the past decade. Diocesan Directors have one big regret: that they have not more parishes to assign. 57 CHARLES H. HELMSING tolicity. While this Missionary Plan of Cooperation is relatively new and still far from.perfect in operation, by contrast with the old method of soliciting mission aid it represents vast returns from little effort--mutually, I mean, for the begging missionary and for our Catholic parishes. In the old days before the Plan, even when alms were substantial, very often the neediest missions were not the re-cipients. Good parishes were satisfied with giving a mere pittance, and the whimsical giving was frequently based on the natu'ral mutual likes or dislikes of pastors and visiting missionaries. Worse still, through specious reasoning about their own needs, ~heir debt, etc., most parishes refused to give at all. Now under the Missionary Plan of Cooperation all parishes give and all receive some benefits of increased apostolicity. Best of all, the whole procedure is orderly and under obedience to the bishop of the dioceke and the religious superior of the soliciting community. There is the merit and bles-sing of obedience as well as of charity. Every Director of The Society for the Propagation of the Faith in the United States has witnessed the disappointment of visiting foreign bishops wffen they return from religious houses where they have solicited personnel. Usually, they have been dismissed with a polite but firm refusal: "We cannot take care of ou~r present obliga-tons; how can we think of opening a foreign mission?" Indeed, it is rare for any community seriously to consider the possibility of undertaking foreign mission work. Consequently, the thought arises: could not the generals and provincials of our religious communities of priests, brothers, and sisters collaborate in giving a regular supp.ly of personnel to the world-wide missions of the Church? Under such a plan every community could anticipate its turn to establish a foreign mission by budgeting its personnel and' resources. ,Just as mission-sending societies apply to participate in the Missionary Plan of Cooperation for the sake of funds, so missionary bishops could apply for partici-pation in this receiving of religious and priestly workers. The practical' collaboration of major religious superiors in such a project is, of course, not without its difficulties. Initially, in each diocese the Director of The Society for the Propagation of the Faith with the approval of his ordinary might urge every community in the diocese2 to have a mission overseas. For diocesan communities, 2provided, of course, that neither its constitutions nor the specific purposes of the institute exclude foreign mission work. 58 ¯ March, 1954 A FOREIGN MISSION ? the bishop himself would be the proper person to plant the idea: for interdiocesan communities, the urging of the Director would be merely a pious wish which he can hope will be relayed to the mother house. As a second step, the Diocesan Director might suggest that any community desirous of collaborating should consult the Mission Secretariat or missionary communities of its acquaintance to ascer-tain where American religious are badly needed, and in general to clarify its thinking relative to undertaking foreign mission work. Ultimately, with a definite idea of assuming a new apostolate, the community will apply to the Apostolic Delegation in Washing-ton or directly to Rome. It will be amazed how enthusiastically its offer will be received and how overjoyed some missionary bishop will be. It should be noted at this point that every American commun-ity that opened a foreign mission has been immediately blessed with an unexpected supply of vocations. Every experienced Mission Di-rector throughout the nation can vouch for this. Experience further shows that very often native vocations immediately supplement the meager mission personnel so that the harassed-mother house need send very few trained religious in the future. Pope Pius XI insisted on the formation of native communities, aware as he was of the ne-cessity of "like being apostles to like." However, the international character of most of our religious communities pr6vides a rule adapt-able to all nations under all conditions. In a few years' time, a native province can be set up with the native religious more stable by the fact that they are .brothers and sisters of a world-wide com-munity. By way of example the writer recalls with joy how one provincial of a teaching community, sorely pressed by requests of bishops and pastors; gave of her best sisters to establish a mission in Japan. The next class of postulants d0ubl.ed that of the previous year (and the increase has been maintained) : a new spirit of mis-sionary zeal permeates the entire community; and best of all, there are already six native professed in the Japanese mission, with nov- . ices and postulants giving promise of a future Japanese Province. While these beflections would apply to any mission field throughout the world (we cannot forget that-.there are still 1,I0i3,- 000,000 pagans), they seem to have an urgency for practi6ally all countries of Latin America, and especially for Hawaii and the Phil-ippines. Indeed, Hawaii is not a foreign mission, since.it is part of 59 CHARLES H. I"~LMSING our great nation; and the Philippines, while independent, are cer-tainly a sister republic. It is startling to think, for instance, that since 1898 ,only three American communities of women have'estab-lished themselves in the Philippines, while the Philippines have adopted American customs and even our language for all official matters. It is terrifying to think that since 1898 approximately 16 per cent of the Philippines have been lost to the Church. The pastor who accompanied the begging bishop on his unher-alded visit suggests a practical plan to meet unexpected objections here at home. He said, "Suppose I would obtain a lay teacher and persuade five other pastors to hire a lay teacher in addition to those they have at present in order that six sisters might be released for a foreign mission. Would you back up this proposition?" I said that I certainly would, and I am convinced that the attitude of this good pastor is that of many of our pastors throughou~ the United States. I am prompted to suggest a fervent meditation on the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Only those in authority over our reli-gious communities are in a position to make the decision. We in the United States are blessed beyond measure. Great as our needs are for priests and religious, certainly our sending out of a half-dozen or even a dozen religious from each of our provincial houses could be termed scarcely more than giving the crumbs that fall from our table. Without a doubt, our shortage of vocations is due to the fact that we are not pruning our vines in order to transplant the shoots that will be the beginning of new vines in the other and more impoverished corners, of the vineyard of the Lord. True it is that we have special communities especially dedicated to mission work, and they are "doing a wonderful job." But they cannot cope with the p,roblem alone. The problem with very many communities is identical with that touching our laity. ¯ The Mis-sionary Plan of Cooperation is one means, together with member-ship. in iThe.:S.od~ty.fqr the Propagat.ign. of .the Faith, that has proved effective in rousing our.la.ity to apostolic zeal.We ay.e. con-fide~ t that .a sim.i!~" organized.effort to bring more communities.into active missionary work. will re-enkindle in more of our religious a true apostolic spirit and a truly Catholic interest in everything that touches in any way the growth and vitality of the Mystical Body of Christ. 60 News Views Marian-Year Proiecf To his inspiring article on missionary zeal Bishop Helmsing ap-pended the following note that should be of special interest: "This article was written just before receipt of the Directives of the Sacred Congregation of ~Religious that during the Marian Year each reli-gious family undertake some special work of charity and zeal. Since the Sovereign Pontiff has characterized the missions as the greatest charity in the world, it is our hope that the foregoing paragraphs may help superiors decide on their contribution for the Marian Year." A Good Superior? In To Gouern is to Loue Father Ronsin offers young superiors the consoling thoughtthat to assist them in their office they have at their disposal not only the merits and prayers but also the accumu-lated experience of the superiors who have gone before them. These words may contain a bit of poetic exaggeration, yet they suggest another project that might have great practical value. During their terms of office most superiors must learn from their own personal experience, certain things that are very helpful in gov-erning a religious community. These lessons may concern some-thing apparently new--something not in the books, as they say-- or they may concern experiences that throw new light on something already known. If all those who are or have been religious superiors were to meet and to pool all these helpful personal experiences, the result would truly be an accumulated experience of immense value to present and future superiors. It is hardly.feasible to try to arrange a meeting at whic,h superi-ors could pool .these helpful experiences. But, with proper coopera-tion, it would be feasible to gather these experier~ces together in the form of writing. .Suppose each religious who is or was a superior would write down in an informal way the helpful lessons he or she has lea'rned during his or her term of office and would send the re-suits to us. We could.compile these experiences into a set of sug: gestions for superio.rs, that might be very practi.cal. Some superiors' might have very. little to write; others might have much. The amount would make no difference. The main thing that we should like to do is to create some interest in what seems to be a useful project. 61 NEWS AND VIEWS Review for Religious We might add that subjects are not excluded from this invita-tion. In fact, they are explicitly included. The subjects' experience of what it means to be governed well is every bit ~s valuable to superiors as their own experiende of what seems to make for good government. This project merits consideration and cooperation. But it should be emphasized that we are asking for constructive suggestions and not for negative criticism. Moreover. we should like suggestions based on actual experience of their helpfulness. Finally, we should prefer that any material sent to us would be signed, unless of course the nature of the communication would demand that it be anony-mous. At any rate,' whether the communications are signed or un-signed, we would comr~ile the material in such a way that those who contribute the suggestions are not recognized. American Founders' Series We seem to be in a "project" mood. Here is another. In the United States and Canada there are many native religious insti-tutes- institutes, that is, that were founded in these countries. The lives of the men and women who founded these various institutes would make interesting reading. In fact, during the last decade or two many book-length biographies of such founders have appeared. Obviously, however, we are interested in articles, not books. We should like very much to publish a series of articles containing the biographical sketches of these founders. Articles in the REVIEW are necessarily limited in length; but we could use biographical sketches up to five or six thousand words. In such sketches we should like to have not merely the main facts of the founder's life but especially an attempt to present the character of the founder and the spirit with which he tried to animate his institute. In such a series there would be danger of a certain sameness; but this danger could be kept to a minimum if the biographers would make a special effort to give the distinctive characteristics of the founder and the distinctive features of the institute he founded. Although we are thinking primarily of institutes that originated in Canada or the United States, we do not wish to exclude other in-stitutes from this project. Some of the older orders and congrega-tions, though founded in other countries, were extended to the "New World" by men and women who were, so to speak, second founders. Biographical sketches of these religious pioneers should also be included ,in our series. 62 March, 19~ Suggestions made in these pages are not usually accorded an overwhelming response; and we do not expect to find our mailbox suddenly crowded with founders' biographies. Nevertheless, lest the unexpected should happen and we should receive more than one sketch of the same founder, it seems advisable that any superior gen-eral who might be interested in this project would designate some-one to write the founder's biography. This is not essential, but it might make for efficiency. For Contributors The thought of possible articles necessarily reminds us of manu-scripts. Unfortunately we do not have a fully prepared style man-ual. But we can offer some suggestions to possible contributors that might solve problems for them and relieve us of an unnecessary bur-den. 1) Every manuscript submitted to us should be neatly typed, double spaced, with at least an inch of margin on each side of the page. lit is difficult to make editorial notations on a crowded page. 2) Quotations should also be double spaced. We mention this particularly because; in many of the manuscripts sent to us, long quotations are always single spaced. We know not how this custom originated; but we do know from experience that it can be an edi-tor's nightmare. 3) Rules for capitalization are difficult to formulate and more difficult to apply; and this is especially true iri a journal devoted to religious topics. We have found that consistency in this matter is an almost impossible goal. Perhaps in some future issue we may publish a list of words to serve as a model. For the present, how-ever, we offer contributors this one practical suggestion: be uerg re-serued in the use ot: capitals. 4) On points of style, spelling, capitalization, and so forth, we usually follow Webster's Collegiate Dictionary and A Manual of Stqle (University of Chicago Press). We would appreciate it if contributors would do likewise. Painting of Our Lady We are informed that a new painting of the Immaculate Heart of Mary has been .completed in time for the Marian Year. The painting is a companion picture to the Ibarraran Sacred Heart ,Jesus which has been used. in a national non-profit picture-distribu- ¯. (Continued on Page 86~.' ¯ 63 Vocat:ional Ideal Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. OFTEN enough to older religious the spiritual life looks simple enough but to beginners and ev, en those advancing it seems frequently anything but simple. They are frequently on the lookout for some formula or other which will make the spiritual life easily and comprehensively grasped. It is not uncommon that one approach after another is tried and found wanting. And it is not unheard of that some remain confused f6r years in regard to the theory of the spiritual Iife and some even wonder whether the diffi-culty can be resolved:. All this uncertainty, of course, affects to some extent the living of the spiritual life. Anything, therefore, that can help in the problem will be welcome. I shall propose a few thoughts suggested by Father :Lindworsky's Ps~tchologg of Asceticism. To start with an illustration. Sister Bona wants to purchase a pair of shoes for tired feet. She goes to the shoestore to be fitted and right away she is handed a pair of shoes and told they ought to fit her. She tries them on and finds them far too small. Curious as to why the salesman was under the impression they would fit, she questions him. He replies that he had measured the feet of hun-dreds of sisters. He then figured out the average size of the sisters' feet and had shoes made to that size. But he acknowledges that thus far not once has he found that the average shoe fitted any particular sister. Thus it is to some ext~nt with patte'rns of the spiritual life pre-sented in many books. No one kind of religious is had in mind. The pattern is apparently meant to fit an active religious, a contem-plative religious, a young religious, an old religious, religious men, religiouswomen, lay religious, clerical religious, each and every reli-gmus. It must be acknowledged that in a certain sense this method of procedure is excusable and at times even necessary. And those~who have a sufficiency of knowledge, and experience can easily make proper adaptations; for the large principles of the spiritual life re-main the same for all. But some try very hard to fit themselves with-out adjustment into this, so to speak, average pattern and find them- :selves spiritually very uncomfortable. It may be said, then, that there are two approaches to the spir-itual life indicated above--what may be called the "abstract" ap- VOCATIONAL IDEAL proach and whatmay be Called the "concrete" approach. The "ab-stract" approach comes about very logically~ Theology teaches us that when our first parents fell in the garden of Eden, besides losing sanctifying grace and certain gifts not due to their nature, they be-came subject to various concupiscences. Hence there arose a warfare in their nature, their lower passions often rebelling against reason. And, although in tbernsel~)es the mind and will of men were not vitiated, nevertheless, because of the condition in which these facul-ties operated,' the mind was, in effect, darkened and the will weak-ened. Hence it can be said that the original integrity in man was broken and the harmony consequent upon the integrity was dis-turbed. Therefore a man was subject to many vices--a whole cata-log of them, beginning with the seven capital sins and descending to the slightest act of unreason. If man was to approach the former high state of his nature, he would have to root out these vices and struggle back up the long ladder of the virtues. Even after Christ redeemed man and restored grace, there still remained the necessity of struggling against the vices and putting on the virtues. The old man of sin had to be destroyed and the new man of grace had to be brought, with labor, into being. And so catalogs of vices and lists of virtues were drawn up and the aspirant to holiness was encouraged to work away at them. The idea was, of course, to build up a new man in Christ by the death of all the vices and the flourishing of all the virtues. Not much attention was paid to just what vices a par-ticular individual should eradicate (although some did speak of a predominant passion) or what virtues he should put on. Since for perfection he had to be without all the vices and in possession of all the virtues, he bad to struggle manfully with the complete lists. Such is what one might call the "abstract" view of the spiritual life. The "concrete" approach may be presented this way. What is man's part in his sanctification? To do God's will. And what is the will of God for any religious? To live out his own vocation as perfectly as possible. This sounds most obvious and exceedingly simple. Like many obvious and simple truths, however, this one is overlooked. I am sure that many spiritual directors have found re-ligious, and sincere religious, who are trying to live the vocation of other religious and not their own. They read of or hear of some "way" of the spiritual life and decide that that is the way God has called them t6, "considering.hardly at all how it fits in with the plan , of their o'wn particular religious calling. Agood many religious are JOSEPH P. FISHER Reoieto for Religious and have been captivated by the idea of being a "Victim soul." This is a fine ideal if properly adjusted to one's own vocation. But any-thing in the ideal which makes impossible or difficult the. living of their own vocation has to be modified. They should be "victims" according to their own vocational-ideal. An active religious reads about contemplation and decides he is going to live as a contem-plative. /ks long as th,e ideal fits in with his own vocation, fine; but, if it is at variance with the spirit of his own order or congrega-tion, it is suspect. As long as he believes his vocation is to the active order, his way of life must fit the vocational-ideal of his order. The endeavor to live out his own vocation as perfectly as pos-sible puts every religious under the obligation of understanding the spirit of his order. It is obvious that various orders and congrega-tions have different ends in mind and hence correspondingly differ-ent means. A Poor Clare is not called upon to work on the mis-sions like the Maryknoll Sisters: the Sisters of Charity are not called upon to recite the Divine Office like the Carmelites: Christian Broth-ers are not expected to work in hospitals as the Alexian Brothers are; ,lesuits are not expected to observe the seclusion and silence of Car-thusians. So each religious must endeavor to form a clear ideal of what his particular way of life asks of him. He must study and pray over his constitutions and the rules of his order; he must read and reflect on the life: of his founder: he must imbibe the spirit that animated those who have lived their lives with signal fidelity in the same calling--he must, in brief, form a "vocational-ideal" based on objective evidence revealing what should be the spirit of his life. Then the holiness of the particular religious will depend on the way he puts this vocational-ideal to work in his life. He must put on all that his vocational-ideal requires of him and cut away what stands in the way of' the living-out of the ideal. This puts before each religious very definite work to do. And most religious would undoubtedly find plenty to work on within the limits of their voca-tional- ideal without having to spend precious time and effort trying to master and put into their lives an ideal based on an abstract treat-ment of the spiritual life or, what may be worse, an ideal based on a form of life foreign to their own. The advantages of such an approach, the concrete approach, are clear. First of all it presents the religious with a definite, detailed expression of God's will---every man's means of holiness. It, ac-cordingly, .puts emphasis in the spiritual life on something solid, 66 March, 1954 VOCATIONAL IDEAL something open to no illusions. Again it presents a simple and yet comprehensive plan of man's part (as opposed to God's part) in the spiritual life for any particular religious. This makes for integral living-~a// a religious does is sanctifying, for (in the supposition) it fits in with his vocation which for him is God's will. Consequent upon such living, there should.be peace and calm, for a religious knows that he is doing the best he can do on earth--God's will. He can have hope of arriving at holiness, for he knows that God gives him the graces required to live his vocation. Several conclusions would seem to follow from the above. First of all when a religious reads a spiritual book that is not expressly pointed to his vocation or, as sometimes happens, is actually pointed away from it, he ought to make proper adjustments in accordance with his own vocational-ideal. There are many very fine spiritual books which have to be so adjusted. Even a classical work like the The Following o[ Christ bas statements which certainly do not ap-ply literally to all religious. For example, this statement may have literal application in the case of contemplatives but hardly in the case of active religious whose work is among men: "As oftenas I have been amongst men, said one, I have returned less a man." And a second conclusion would be this. Religious institutes would do well to provide their religious with commentaries and even medita-tions on their rules. Likewise it would be useful to have lives writ-ten of founders and illustrious members of the congregation. Above all the efforts of superiors and instructors should be devoted to bringing the religious to a really practical love of their own precise vocation. It is all well and good to admire the ideals of religious of other orders, but one has to live and sanctify oneself according to the ideals of one's own order. Since a religious owes the loyalty of love to his own religious family, he is in duty bound to come to know his family and cherish it as he does .no other. It follows from all this that the ideal form of mortification for all religious is the effort of will required to live their vocation pe?- fectly, that is, to put on all that their vocation requires and cut off what hinders the full living of it. It may seem at first glance as if there is not much mortification in this; but let a religious earnestly examine himself on how be conducts himself from early rising through all the exercises and work of the day till he goes to bed tired at night, and he will find plenty of scope for the effort of will that means mortification. And the strong points of this kind of morti- 67 JOSEPH P. FISHER fication are these: it is definitely willed by God and so there can be no delusion in it; and secondly it makes for a habit of mortification, continual mortification. Religious all know the necessity of morti-fication but many feel they are remiss in its practice. Even those who perform scattered acts are rarely satisfied. They feel the need of a more continual spirit of mortification. However, they realize that there is a limit to the little incidental acts they can perform. But there is no limit to the mortification involved in the plan suggested above. And, since it is all connected with the proper living of their freely chosen vocation, it appears desirable and possible. When the , penitents of John the Baptist wanted to know what they were to do to manifest fruits of ,repentance in their lives, they received these an-swers in accord with their various vocations. "And the crowds asked him, saying, 'What then are we to do?' And he answered and said to them, 'Let him who has two tunics share with him who has none; and let him who has food do likewise.' And there came pub-licans also to be baptized, and they said to him, 'Master, what are we to do?' But he said to them. 'Exact no more than what has been appointed you.' And the soldiers also asked him, saying, 'And we-- what are we to do?' And he said to them, 'Plunder no one, neither accuse anyone falsely~ and be content with your pay.' " (Luke 3: 10-14.) The spirit of this answer certainly applies to religious to-day. "Walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you were called" (Ephesians 4: 1). OUR CONTRIBUTORS MOST REVEREND CHARLES H. HELMSING is Auxiliary Bishop of St. Louis. JOSEPH P. FISHER is master of novices at Florissant, Missouri. LOUIS J. PUHL is spiritual director at the! Josephinum, Worthington, Ohio. JOHN J. STOCHL is making his theological studies at. St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. PAUL DENT is a former missionary in Patna, India, and is now teaching Hindi at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. BRUNO M. HAGSPIEL has had long experience in writing, lecturing, and giving retreats, and is now at Sacred Heart Mission Seminary, Girard, Pennsylvania. RICHARD W. ROUSSEAU is making his theological studies at the College of St. Albert, Louvain, Belgium. PETER GOODMAN is on the faculty of St. Joseph of Holy Cross, Juniorate of the Broth-ers of the Holy Cross, at Valatie, New York. FRANCIS N. KORTH is on the fac-ulty at St. Mary's College, St. 'Marys, Kansas. 68 Lit:e Cont:ormed to !:he Image ot: Mary Louis J. Puhl, S.J. OUR Holy Father Pius XII in the encyclical consecrating this year,to the Immaculate Mother tells us that she rejoices to see her likenes~s in her children. He asks all Christians to conform their lives to the image of the Blessed Virgin. Fortunately for us, we have a portrait of the Immaculate Heart of Mary that pictures for us her holiness and perfection. It has been drawn under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit by no less skillful hand than that of our Blessed Mother herself. This she has given us in the hymn of thanks and praise she left in the Magnificat. It is a summary of the spirituality of our Blessed Mother, and a model given us by God to aid us to carry out the wish expressed by the Holy Father in his request to conform our live~ to her image. The circumstances that gave rise to this hymn of thanks will help us to appreciate its meaning. The angel of God had come to Mary and asked her consent to be the mother of the Savior. When the humble Virgin understood how she was to serve God, she joy-fully embraced His will with those words we repeat each day in the Angelus, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord! Be it done unto me according to Thy v~ord." This act of surrender to God may be called the motto of Mary's life. It gives the key to her whole spir-ituality. Having learned in her conversation with 'the angel that her aged cousin would soon be the mother of the precursor, the humble Vir-gin hastened to be of service to her in need. The Mother of God, the living temple of God, did not think it beneath her dignity to do menial service for her kinswoman. ~ She understood well that the essence of perfection is charity. When she came to the home of her cousin and greeted her with the familiar Jewish greeting, "Peace be to you," Ehzabeth, inspired by the Holy Spirit, in great joy saluted her with the very words the angel had used, "Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb." Mary, seeing that the great mystery of the Incarnation had been revealed by God to her cousin, broke forth into a song of praise of the Redeemer. The very first verse of this hymn strikes at the most fundamental principle of the spiritual life. "My soul doth magnify the Lord," 69 LOUIS .I. PUHL Review [or Religious Mary sings. What is the ultimate destiny of man that must guide all the actions of his life? The glory of God. If I do not live up to this purpose of my life, I do not lead a rational human life. So Mary, teaching us to lead a truly Christian life, glorifies God for the wonders He .has wrought in her, and for the great mystery of the Incarnation and Redemption. But God has so arranged in His infinite goodness and power that what we do for His glory is for our happiness. We were made for joy in Him in time ,and eternity. Hence the second verse of this hymn, "My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior." Man without Christ is a hopeless, helpless debtor. Nothing remains for him but to be cast into prison till the last farthing is paid. But since he can-not pay his debt without a Savior, he must remain there forever. There is no happiness possible without Christ. Hence, if I seek my happiness in any other, I am doomed to failure. The foolish world has sought peace in power, in pleasure, in wealth, and has ended in slavery. My happiness and joy is in Christ alone. He came to teach the way to peace and happiness and la'id down His life to secure the means to it. Unless with Mary my joy is in Christ my Savior, I can have no true joy :in time or eternity. Next, our Blessed Mother teaches us the great means to praise God and to find happiness in God. "He hath regarded the humility of His handmaid, for behold from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed." In practice, perfection must always consist in walking in the will of God, in being the humble handmaid, the servant of God. Wherever God's will is made known, in the Com-mandments, in the duties of our state, in the wish of our superiors, in the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, man the servant of God by nature is bound to obey. This humble service by Mary, she tells us, is the secret of the wonderful graces God gave her. Because she was the humble servant, God regarded her and blessed her. So abundant were these favors that came from her service that she prophesies that henceforth all generations shall call her blessed. In its way, the same will be true of us if we serve. God and His angels and saints will rejoice and call us blessed even in this life if we serve. And the day will come in eternity when Christ Himself, as He tells us, will gird Himself and minister to us ~at the table of the Lamb'. All of God's saints and the Mother of God herself will call us bles-sed through all eternity. Then follows a way to magnify the Lord and rejoice in God our 70 March, 1954 LIFE C~NFORMED TO MARY Savior. Mary begins to praise God for the present order of God's providence, for the great work of the Incarnation and the Redemp-tion. It is the work of the omnipotence of God, "He that is mighty hath done great things to me." Indeed, only an infinitely powerful God could ca.rry out the design of His wisdom and mercy to save man by clothing Himself in our human nature, coming into the world as the child of a virgin, and finally laying down His life for our salvation. Secondly, she calls the work of the Incarnation and the Redemp-tion a work of the holiness of God, "And holy is His name." God came to teach us the way of holiness, to share His own nature with us and so sanctify us, to free us from sin and clothe us in justice such as he Himself has. Finally Mary proclaims the Redemption as the great work of the mercy of God. "His mercy is from generation unto generation to them that fear Him." Wherever there is that humble reverential fear of the servant for his Lord. of the child for his Father, Mary tells us, there will be the boundless mercy of God.If we reverently serve, she teaches, we are secure in God's mercy. In the next verses we are let into the great secret of Mary's suc-cess in her spiritual life. How did she become the model of all sanc-tity? The secret is humility. How often we read and are told that the foundation of all virtue is humility. From the first to the last verse of this hymn this truth is suggested in some way. Humility simply means that I know my place and live accordingly. I know who God is, the infinite Good to whom I owe all; and I know who I am, the servant who has received all from God and must go to Him for all I need. God must reject the proud, Scripture tells us. Mary eloquently proclaims this truth and the necessity of humility. "He hath shewed might in His arm. He hath scattered the proud, in the conceit of their heart. He hath put down the mighty from their seat, and hath exalted the humble." If we wish to conform to the image of Mary, we must strive for humility. The second secret of her success pointed out by Mary is an ardent "desire for perfection. "He hath filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent empty away." Who ever heard of any per-son attaining a difficult goal without willing it? No one acquires a strange language without wanting to do so. We cannot learn to play the piano or succeed even in a game such as golf without wanting to learn. We do not wake up some fair morning and find 71 LOUIS J. PUHL ourselves masters of Greek against our will. Hence, the insistence in spiritual writers on an earnest desire for perfection. Our Lord Him-self has said, "Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after justice for they shall have their fill." If we really wish to perfect our lives, there must be a real hunger for justice. If there is, there will follow the blessing of God and all the means necessary to attain holiness. Hence, Mary says, "He hath received Israel His servant, being mind-ful of His mercy." Notice. again, it is the humble servant that re-ceives the help. TEe last verse gives a third secret of Mary's success, her great faith and trust in God. God is faithful to His promises, "'as He spoke to Abraham and his seed forever." It was this complete trust in God's fidelity in Mary that was praised by Elizabeth, "Blessed art thou because thou bast believed, because those things shall be ac-~ complished that were, spoken to thee by the Lord." Faith in God's word who has promised to help us in every need and complete trust in His omnipotent love and mercy are necessary for success on the way to God. There are many mysteries in life we cannot under-stand. We must keep our faith firm in the words of Christ and go on in boundless trust. "God is faithful who hastcalled us to the society of His Son." He can accomplish His ends by humble means. The humble Virgin, raised to the dignity of Mother of God and praised by all generations, is an eternal example of this truth. Such is the portrait of the Mother of God left us by the inspira-tion of the H01y Spirit. She lived for the glory of God, she found her joy in Christ her Savior, she was the humble servant. Her life was a,hymn of praise of the omnipotence, holiness, and mercy of her Redeemer. The fouffdations of her holiness were a deep humil-ity, a hunger and thirst for justice, and an unshakable faith and trust in God. If I am to conform my life tO the image of Mary as God asks us to do through the words of the Holy Father, I must make it according to the model God has given us in Mary. BACK NUMBERS WANTED We have urgent requests for back numbers that are needed to complete sets. You can be of great service to other religious if you happen to have duplicates of any of these numbers and' are willing to part with them. If you have such dupli-cates, kindly notify us. The requested numbers are: Complete volumes I (1942): II (1943); and III (1944). Single copies: January. 1942; May, 1942: July, 1943 (2 copies): November, 1943; September, 1945; March. 1946: and Sep-tember, 1946. 72 Ext:ernal Grace and t:he Religious Lil:e John J. Stocbl, S.J. 44 | F THOU didst know the gift of God," Christ told the Samari- ! tan woman at Jacob's well, " . . thou perhaps wouldst have asked of him." The poor sinful woman, thinking that Our Lord was speaking of ordinary drinking water, did not understand; and so the divine shepherd had to explain that the water He had to give was "a fountain of water springing up unto life everlasting." This "gift of God" that Our Lord spoke about is grace, which God bestows on men and which was merited for men by the suf-fering and death of Jesus Christ. And truly, if we did fully under-stand this gift of God, we would know the science of sancFity a.nd the secrets of the saints. It is the heart of the supernatural life. Sanctifying grace, that divine life which is infused into the soul at baptism and which is increased or restored with the reception of the other sacraments and the performance of good works, is the greatest of all created gifts to man; so great is it that it actually makes us children of God and sharers in the divine life. Actual graces are transitory supernatural helps, holy thoughts and desires, that God continually sends us, especially when we are spiritually troubled. Their purpose is to inspire us to lead'tbe supernatural life and to give us supernatural strength when we most need it. The thought of our own weakness would be a terrifying one were it not for the fact that we have God's own assurance that His grace is sufficient for us. For this reason we can say with confidence at the beginning each ,day the prayer in the office of Prime: "Lord God Almighty, who hast brought us to the beginning of this day, defend us: throughout its course by Thy power, that we may not this day fall into any sin, but that our words and thoughts and deeds may be directed to the fulfilment of what is right in Thy sight." The band of God stretched out in our support is manifested not only through these interna~ supernatural helps which He gives us to avoid sin and perform works of eternal merit, but also in countless external helps we find all bout us. Thus we can see in the creatures about us a third kind of grace, 73 JOHN J. STOCHL ° Reoieto for Religious external grace, which theologians and spiritual writers frequently acknowledge wit~ only a passing nod as they hurry on to deeper and more important problems of sanctifying or actual grace. External graces are not absolutely necessary for salvation and are not even sufficient in themselves for the performance of a salutary act. Because of this they are often neglected in spiritual conferences and instruc-tions. They rouse the soul to merely human resolves, and hence are not sufficient of themselves to win the divine reward of eternal life. They are only the preparation for internal graces which are sufficie.nt for salvation. Yet external graces are real gifts of God, special gifts that help us to holiness. And for religious who habitually live in the state of sanctifying grace and whose whole effort is aimed at in-creasing that divine 'Iife in the soul, no means to sanctity is 'to be ignored. God places various creatures around us to help us reach the goal for which we were made. These creatures are external graces and should be used as God intended, namely, as helps in working out our own salvation and sanctification, St. Francis of Assisi found that the sun, the birds, and the animals made him love God more. For St. Francis Borgia, the death of his queen and the sight of her decaying body was an external grace that started him on the path to sainthood. And St. Ignatius says in his book of the Spiritual Exer-cises that "all other things on the face of the earth were created for man's sake, and in order to aid him in the prosecution of the end for which be was created." Any influence coming from creatures outside the soul and helping us to salvation is an external grace. Such external influences arouse thoughts of good deeds and excite holy resolutions. The sermon of a priest frequently stirs up in a sinner the first thoughts of repentance; the example of a strong Catholic in the armed service has often been a source of strengtb to weaker Catholics living with him. And on at least one occasion, the music, singing, incense, and ceremony of a Benediction servic~e has led a non-Catholic to inquire into the trutbs~.of the Faith. Some external graces of their very nature draw men to a better life. The life of Christ, the Blessed Virgin, or certain saints, the Bible, and the Church itself are bound to have a good effect on all who experience them. Other outside influences will appeal only to certain people or under certain circumstances. Music, for example, or books, good example, friends, recreation, or the radio can all lead 74 March. 19:54 ¯ ~ EXTERNAL GRACE us to God. In fact anything can be an external grace--even pain, sorrow, suffering, and sin-s-if we put it to the use that God intended. As Father Matthews says in his little book, With the Help of Thy Grace: "Every creature can make us think of God the Creator and so lead us to glo,rify.the Creator in His works. But such glorification would be only natural and God wants us to do supernatural deeds in order thereby to win heaven. So just when the external grace makes us know and love God naturally, actual grace enters our soul and helps us to know and love God supernaturally." It can and frequently does happen that all three kinds of grace come to us at the same time. The sister, for example, who° makes her weekly .confession, receives an increase of sanctifying grace by the very fact that she receives the sacrament. She also knows that by receiving the sacrament she is assured of a sufficiency of actual graces during the coming week to make her good resolutions and purpose of amendment effective. But over and above this, the difficulty of the actual telling of her faults and of the saying of the penance, and the shame felt in having to mention the same little sin of criticizing, for the fifth week in a row are all external helps to avoid sin in the future. God does not force His grace on anyone; nor does He act against the natures which He created. Rather, He deals with each creature in accord with its nature. And since, as philosophy teaches us, there is nothing in the intellect which was not first in the senses, God usually enlightens the intellect or strengthens the will through the use of the sense.faculties or emotions. Exterior graces act directly on the senses and only indirectly reach the spiritual faculties. They are either the occasions of inner graces, or else accompany interior helps. They do not of themselves strengthen the will, as Tanquerey says, but they produce in us favorable impressions, which by quickening the mind and rousing the will, prepare the soul for the reception of supernatural life. But since they are connected with true inward promptings, which move the soul to amendment and advancement in the supernatural life, they are of extreme importance. And we may be sure that when we make use of the many external graces God gives us the more important interior graces will be present. Religious life of its very nature assures us of couiatless such ex-ternal graces. The fact that religious live in communities where everyone is working for the spread of Christ's Kingdom is in itself a JOHN J. STOCHL Review for Religious great grace. Moreover, the religious is separated from many sources of temptation to which~ most Other Catholics and even the diocesan clergy are constantly exposed. For the most part we are cut off from all the pushing struggle for worldly success and the esteem of men, from bad companions, harmful reading, temporal worries, from practi.cally all persons, places, and things that are generally occasions of serious sin. The daily order of a religious house assures all of sufficient time for prayer and reflection, ample spiritual direction, and easy access to books for spiritual reading. All we have-to do is to recognize these graces and make use of them. They can be found all about us, in our Rule, the religious habit, the daily order, the little pinches of poverty, and the petty irritation that frequently accompanies reli-gious obedience. The presence of the Blessed Sacrament in our house, the beauty of the liturgy, wholesome books and study are also external graces. And though these latter are available to many of the faithful, still religious have more frequent opportunity to make use of them. ~Perhaps the greatest external grace that religious have .is the con-stant companionship of others who are striving to advance in the way of perfection. Who has not felt impelled to kneel a little straighter and put more effort into his prayer when he saw his neighbor in chapel pray with external reverence?' Or what over-worked teaching sister, is not inclined to give herself even more gen-erously when she sees others facing problems greater than hers? The unfailing generosity of one or other member of the community tends to make all the members of the community more generous with their time and their talents. Even the little twinge of human respect we feel over the violation of a rule in the presence of others can-- though it sounds strange to say it--be used as an external grate to prevent further violations. And every monastery, convent, or seminary has its number of those who by their unfailing cheerful-ness or exact observance of the rules draw others closer to perfection. There is absolutely nothing in religious life that cannot be used to draw us to greater love of God. As St'. Paul says in his Epistle to the Romans, "We know that to them that love God, all things work together unto good, to such as, according to his purpose, are called to be saints" (Romahs 8:28). And surely, if any are called to be -saints it is those who have voluntarily followed Christ's counsels, who have "left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, 76 March, 1954 ANNUNCIATION THOUGHTS or wife, or children, or lands for my name's sake" (Matthew 19: 29). ~ God comes to us through a thousand and one doors, and the' marvel of it all is the ingenuify He uses to touch our thoughts and draw our wills to higher things. God is not only present in crea-tures, according to St. Ignatius, "in the elements giving them being, in the plants giving them growth, in animals giving them feeling, and in men giving them understanding," but He actually "works and labors for me in all created things on the face of the earth, that is. He behaves as one that labors." Annunciation Thought:s Paul Dent, S.d. MARY'S plans were upset when the angel told her she would become the mother of a child, she who had planned a life of virginity vowed to God! But she gave instant consent to God's plans when she knew they were God's plans, and her own were realized in a way more glorious and holy than she could have imag-ined- and the world was redeemed, too. I must ever be ready to imitate Mary in regard to my plans. Souls will be. saved if I in-stantly and perseveringly consent to God's plans. They are infinitely holier than any plans of which I myself can think. (Luke 1:26 f.) From God to a town in Galilee (the mostboor-ish section of the Holy Land) named Nazareth (the proverbially despised section of that boorish section) to a virgin (not to a mother of a family, a person of merit and importance) betrothed to a man (whence all her importance, such as it was, in the eyes ot~ that little world--not from herself, but from him) named doseph (Joseph? Which one of the several Josephs? Joseph, the carpenter. Oh, that fellow! I thought you meant the Joseph, the one in that big house) of thehouse of David (a ruined house now, and of no account any more) and the virgin's name was Marg (a common sort of name, not distingu~ like Irene or B~renice). Thus God chooses what the world thinks little of, God chooses one fit for nothing but ordinary jobs about the house, not a brilliant writer, executive, orator. God, chooses one lowly in all eyes, especially her own, one accordingly 77 PAUL DENT not discouraged and ,despondent, but full of confidence in God and of gratitude to God for letting her love Him, letting her love Him. I want to be like you, O Mary Immaculate, Mother of God. I want to trust God and to be grateful that He allows and enables me to love Him. Mary is kneeling in prayer, adoration, love, oblation, abandon-ment, loving attention to the presence of God. ,She is lovingly aware that God is and she is humbly pleading to be allowed to be His servant-girl. Suddenly out of nothing a man appears and calls her highly favored, full of grace. She is troubled, thinking the Divine Majesty has deigned to answer her prayer. For this is evidently an angel before her who has been sent to bring God's answer, and yet he is calling her highly favored, her who had not asked to be praised, but to be ancilla Domini. B~t the angel speaks no flattery in calling her highly favored, for that is just what she is. By God's grace she is full of the love of God and is aware that she does love God, able to bear herself the honest, humble, candid witness that she really does love God. Is she now going to be told that she is allowed to be God's servant-girl? That were indeed to be highly favored! Is this not the angel's meaning? What els~ can his words mean? O Mother of God, is it presumption for me thus to try to ex-' press to myself your thoughts? ! do not think it is, if I know--as I do know !--that your thoughts, your pure, virginal; sinless, im-maculate thoughts are inexpressibly far above my power to imagine or express them. I do not think it is presumption, if I try to put your thoughts here before me'in order to help me realize more than I do what my prayer-life must be. I am your child and you are my Mother, and "like mother, like child" must mean that I try not only to do like you, but to think like you. Guard my thoughts, holy Mother of God. Help them belike yours, so that I may be like you --lovingly aware that God is and humbly desirous to be all His. "AURELIANS" IN THE UNITED STATES A Sister Adorer of the ,l~recious Blood writes, with reference to the article "Aurelian Spirituality" in our January, 1954 number: "We regret that no men-tion is made of the fact that the houses in the States (with the exception of Belle-vue, Ohio) are independent of either the French- or E.nglisl?-speaking Unions: and each has its own novitiate', in accordance with the way we were founded." 78 Are You a ,Jellyfish? Bruno M. Hagspiel, S.V.D. THIS is a challenging question. To face it honestly requires more than a modicum of courage. Yet it should be faced because this little creature of the sea has much to teach us if we are willing to let our powers of reasoning bear with full force upon the analogies that such a study suggests. Our Lord has endowed His smallest, weakest creatures with a meaning. He has used the sparrows, the flowers of the field, the mustard seed, to teach His incomparable lessons. We are but fol-lowing His inspiration if, like eager children, we try to learn from the most inconsequential things He has made, not only how to be but how not to be. If the poet Wordsworth, sensitive to the realities underlying the natural world, speaks of "the harvest of the quiet eye," how much more should we, with an eye steadied by faith, perceive the more profound realities of the supernatural world beating upon our inner selves. Yet we are sometimes as unaware of the full import of these realities as is the jellyfish of the insistent roll of the surf. If this were not so, we should not find the glaring inconsistencies between creed and conduct that are ot:ten manifest in the lives of those professing the Catholic faith and even of those committed to the higher dedica-tion of the religious life. To clarify out, thinking on this subject we might follow the lines indicated by Msgr. (later Bishop) John S. Vaugban .in "Inconsistency, or Our .Faith and Our Practice" (in Thoughts for All Times). Msgr. Vaughan alludes to the fact that~ve are often puzzled to explain why, in spite of' the overwhelming .arguments in proof of the authenticity of the Catholic Church, so many earnest men con-' tinue to resist her claims. We seldom take the t~ouble, however, of inquiring why we who believe firmly in the stupendous truths of Revelation are so little affected by them. That a materialist with no belief in a future life to sustain him should center his interest on the acquisition of worldly goods--whether honors, pleasures, or pos-sessions- is not strange. But that we who are well aware that this life is nothing more than a preparation, a path leading to an im-mortal destiny, should attach so much importance to what we know to be empty,, yain, and unsatisfying, is far more extraordinary and 79 BRUNO M. HAGSPIEL Review for Religious constitutes a really difficult problem. "We profess belief," Msgr. Vaughan says, "and .we do in re-ality believe every dogma, and yet we seem to be ab'le to reconcile With such a profession a line of conduct diametrically opposite. What we openly'affirm with our lips we are perpetually denying by our actions; and What we emphatically assert in words to be of the most vital importance we declare by almost every act of oui lives to be of no importance at all. However rational we may be in business, in politics and in our social relations, we seem to be wholly devoid of reason as soon as we begin to deal with the spiritual and the supernatural." In illustrating his point, be eliminates all matters of mere opin-ion and suggests that we confine ourselves to points of certainty on which we-all agree. He proceeds first of all to the concept of sin. We believe, obviously, that sin is the greatest evil in the world, that even the smallest deliberate sin is a more genuine misfortune than any pos-sible loss of health or fortune, that both in itself and in its conse-quences no merely human calamity can compare with it. We know with a divine certainty that not even to save our lives or any num-ber of lives would a person be justified in committing a single de-liberate v'enial sin. This, as Msgr. Vaughan asserts, is not a pious exaggeration, but the literal truth. In our own case, our faith no doubt is securely rooted. But how is it with our conduct? Does it coincide with our belief? Our atti-tude towards venial sin will supply an answer. How do we show our horror of small sins, our realization of their baseness and of the deep ingratitude inherent in them? Does our everyday life indicate an unhesitating preference to suffer pain or calamity rather than commit a deliberate venial sin? The result of such questioning will-show whether these words of Msgr. Vaughan apply to us: "We be-lieve sin to be the greatest of evils, ,we act as though it were the least." From the negative to the positive; from the consideration of evil to the consideration of the greatest supernatural good that can come to us in this life. We recognize this good as divine grace. Through faith we know that grace is so surpassing a gift that to gain one ad-ditional degree of it is an advantage immeasurably greater than to in-crease our fortunes or any of our earthly gifts a milliontimes over. One degree of grace is incalculably better in itself, of greater profit to ourselves, and more pleasing to God than any advance in worldly 8O March, 1954 ARE YOU A JELLYFISH prosperity, social position, or political power. We ought to be willing to renounce these, together with any natural gift such as wisdom, beauty, dignity, or talent, if thereby we could purchase the slightest increase of divine grace. We know all this and we teach it to others. But do we deny it in practice? The thought of grace leads logically to the thought of eternity. We may" indeed say with Msgr. Vaughan that God has committed to our hands the fashioning of a future that will be.precisely what we make it, neither better nor worse. Granted that we are fortunate enough to reach heaven, still our position in God's kingdom will depend on our own cooperation. We know that every degree of grace carries with it a corresponding degree of eternal glory. While breath lasts, we may continue to add to the amount of acquired grace-- which means that it rests with us (i.e., on our cooperation .with God's help) whether or not throughout an everlasting life we are to know God better, love Him more, and enjoy Him more completely and profoundly. This dependence is as'inevitable as that of the oak upon the acorn. But Msgr. Vaughan reminds us that many neither act nor speak as becomes men and women who have taken these truths to heart. If someone were to follow us as we go through our daily avocations, could be conclude that we are conscious of the fact that moment by moment we are drawing the plans and laying the foundations for an interminable future? Would be believe that we are aware that every one of our thoughts and actions is stamping our lives beyond the grave with an indelible mark and helping to make or mar a career that is unending? Since we easily recognize our inconsistencies, we cannot avoid~the questions: why this disparity between belief and practice? why do we behave so unreasonably? The general answer, at least in part, suggests itself at once; it is that, though we believe, we do not re~ alize. Truths affect us only in the measure that they come home to us. Even in the natural order, such truths as the distance of the .nearest.fixed star will come home to us only after a process of com-paring and contrasting. It is similar in the supernatural world. The great truths of faith affect us little because we do not realize them. We may believe them with a faith su6icient for the fulfillment of divine precepts; but unless we realize them--that is, make of them an inner experience that will work its way into our minds and hearts and permeate our whole being--they will never have the power to 81 IM. HAGSPIEL Ret~ietv for Religious the course of life, resist temptation, and give us the courage to "~ heroes and saints. The essence of~the matter is to bring our faith to the point of setting fire to our lives--the fire that Christ came to kindle--and to draw our souls out of the lukewarmness that has the disdain of God upon it. We can do this if we ponder over the truths that tell us of an invisible world, not merely skimming the surface of life, but following it to its hidden realities. By meditation the mustard seed of the gospel will grow and the kingdom 'of God that is within us will give forth its' secrets. The valhes of life here and hereafter will fall into their proper proportions, and the tranquillity of order will keep us on a steady course. Things invisible will grow visible to the eyes of. the spirit, and we shall have the thrill of knowing that we are not asleep amid the wonders that are about us. If we need added assuran, ce, we have only to look at those who have succeeded in the one great enterprise upon which we all are em-barked. From the example of the saints, all of whom have both practised this life-giving habit of meditation and exhorted others to do so, we draw the inevitable conclusion that it is a sure, simple, direct means of acqu~iring sanctity here and everlasting glory here-after. The great theologian Suarez declares it to be morally neces-sary for all who wish to rise above mere mediocrity. St. Teresa declares it impossible for anyone to practise meditation and at the same time continue to lead a tepid and sinful life. The two are mutually exclusive. Upon this matter the Holy Spirit Himself has spoken: "Think of thy last end and thou shalt never sin." And by the voice of the prophet He laas sago: 'With desolation is the whole world laid deso-late, because there is no man who considereth in his heart." it is a relief to turn for a moment from our own inconsistencies to the thought of the saints, to expose ourselves to the radiance of their uniform consistency. Even that well-known apostle of modern unbelief in Germany, Friedrich Nietzsche, who made no effort to conceal his hatred of the saints and did not hesitate to ridicule them, paid them an undeniable tribute. Obviously,' the loving humility of their surrender to God conflicted sharply with his theory of the superman. Nevertheless, he praised them "because they lived logi-cally according to their views," and he added that, compared with the saints,~''the ordinary average Christian cuts a sorry figure; he acts like a man who cannot count up to three." 82 March, 1954 ARE YOU A JELLYFISH? The saints not only realized their belief; they summed it up in effective maxims. For Augustine, "all that is not eternal is nothing": Stanislaus was born "for greater things": and Aloysius ruthlessly applied the question, "of what value is this for eternity?" And they lived ac,cording to these maxims. They were not jellyfish. To carry out the uncompromising program of the saints requires not 0nly logic but a spirit of self-denial, rt means mortification, penance, suffering. But here again we meet an inconsistency. Christ has left no doubt as to His teaching concerning our daily crosses and what to make of them. He laid down this lesson by both word and example; yet all too often the average Christian, and religious too, spontaneously turns away from the daily cross and abhors it as if it were an evil. We not only avoid suffering, but we tend to eliminate .every inconvenience. The way of the cross is not our chosen path, even though it leads to heaven. Theoretically we know that for those who love God all things work together unto good (cf. Romans 8:28), but do we live up to this knowledge? In practice--let us hu~mbly admit it--we too often act as if we could serve God well only as long as we can live in sufficient comfort and ease, as long as we are healthy and we/l, as long as we have success in our daily work and in our plans. How we dread the very thought ~f discomfort and material loss, of illness and disease, of ill success and failure! We seem to look upon such circumstances and conditions as so many hindrances and obstacles on the road to heaven: we imagine we can-not serve God so well any more; and our spirit of equanimity, of "holy indifference," and of conformity with the will of God is gone. Is not this jellyfish-like inconsistency? This is manifest especially when we find ourselves face to face with the necessity of makingade-cision in the choice of "creatures." Contrary to our'~better theoretical understanding ahd conviction, we catch ourselves ever ~o often se-lecting not what is lastingly useful to us, but what we think is more pleasant. We really ask ourselves not "what will help me most to serve God and to give Him pleasure?" .but "what will give me the least trouble?" Perhaps the climax of our inconsistency is r~ached in regard to Christ's law of charity. Again He has taught us by word and ex-ample. We must be kind to everyone. We must love everyone as we love ourselves. He has pointed out even the measure of our love. He has indicated also even the measure of our acts of kindness, "as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to 83 BRUNO M. HAGSPlEL Reoieto for Religious" me" (Matthew 25:40). Our Lord accepts every kindness to a ~eilow human being as though it were done to Himself; but He rega.r~l.s also -every unkindness as having been done to Himself. Must qce not tremble with apprehension when we remember all the uncharitable judgments, the petty bickerings, the pointed remarks that we l~vel at those around us? If we eliminate the grosser injuries of slander and calumny, what shall we say of the endless gossiping, the influendo, the taunting tone, the disparaging glance? Can we justify these things and make them consistent with God's law of love and God's own eternal love? What answer shall those who call themselves followhrs of Christ offer in explanation of unkindness, of hardness against those who have sinned, to the pitying Christ who with a divine hatred for sin had only mercy to show to the sinner? In our littlenes~ and our bitterness~, if we would find the r~medy, we need but look at Our Lord in one of tb'e most moving scenes of His earthly life, when the adulterous woman trembles at His feet while the Pharisees drop their accusing stones and slink away. Those who have consecrated themselves to Christ by the triple bond of poverty, chastity, and obedience, have chosen the three mos( potent safeguards against the fundamental weaknesses tin, at afflict our human nature. Here too the question is of supreme necessity: are we being consistent? Much too fr.equently we see that those who by the vow of poverty have voluntarily renounced all earthly pos-sessions will none the less frequently adhere to trivial things, be it a room or cell, a habit, even a dustcloth, knickknacks, trifles of every description. Even this leaves untouched the further question of in-ner poverty, the~stripping of the sp!rit that renders it unattached to all that is not needful, unattached even to itself. As for the vow of chastity, the purpose of which is to foster that undividedness by which the soul is wedded to God as to its Spouse, there are numerous ways in which inconsistency can show itself. Fidelity demands not only the observance of celibacy but also the exclusion of all things that unnecessarily endanger purity. Never-theless, much halfheartedness is evident in this respect among reli-gious. Many give way to undue attachments, indulge in the read-ing of dangerous literature, and by careless behavior Show the incon-sistency of believing one thing and doing another. The vow of obedience, this giving up, out of love for the obe-dient Christ, the most precious thing that we have, our own will, 84 March, 1954 YOU A JELLYFISH? puts consistency strongly to the test. The surrender to a God-given superior brings with it many interactions of rights and duties that give occasion for many a difficulty. How frequently self-will in affairs, both major and trivial, comes to the surface! When assign-ments are given we often see resistance, tears as of babies, excuses, an unwillingness to accept uncongenial work, pretenses of having no time for certain errands, various subterfuges. Superiors themselves do not always escape the danger of incon-sistency. Parallel to the'it rights to obedience they have their corre-sponding duties. A superior must be all things to all in the com-munity. Even here we frequently see partiality, an unwarranted establishing of precedents, an insistence on the "holy rule" as an end in itself, to the injury of some person concerned. All these things imply a disparity between that which the lips have professed and the behavior denies. Expediency takes the place of dedication and self-will usurps the primacy of self-sacrifice. We can easily im.agine Our Lord speaking to us as He spoke to the multitudes concerning John. To them He said: "What went you out into the desert to see? A reed shaken with the wind?" We can envision Him with His eyes upon us as we look through the ranks of those who have succeeded in this business of Christian living, and we ourselves can fashion the question: what did you come here to see? a jellyfish? a backboneless, glutenous substance? a semisolid hydrozoan? ' We may be sure that when Christ commanded His apostles to cast the net into the sea and the net nearly broke from the weight of the miraculous catch, there was but little room for a jellyfish. We may be equally certain that this helpless little creature was not the one chosen to be given as food to the hungering ap~ostles when the Master awaited them on the shore after His Resurrection. Happily we have still God's gift of time. We can, in a single moment of logical thinking and courageous willing, begin to make ourselves that which we desire to be. Unless we wish it, God be praised, we need not be jellyfish. MARIAN YEAR MEDAL PROJECT To encourage the wearing of the Miraculous Med~ during the Marian Year, the Daughters of Charity, of Milwaukee, are sendxng pledge cards with medals at-tached to all who request them. The cards contain a pledge to wear the~medal through the Marian Year. For the cards and medals write to: Daughters of Charity, 809 West Greenfield Avenue, Milwaukee 4, Wisconsin. 85 NEWS AND VIEWS NEWS AND VIEWS (Continued from Page 63) tion plan. Three thousand schools and organizations utilized the plan to have three hundred thousand homes consecrated to the Sa-cred Heart. As was the case with the picture of the Sacred Heart, framed glass-covered prints of the Immaculate Heart are now avail-able at 25 cents each. The companion pictures are obtainable in lots of thirty-six from the Nu-Dell Plastics Corporation, 2250 North Pulaski Road, Chicago 39, Illinois. Saturday lns?iCu,~e for Religious From Regis College, Denver, Colorado, comes news of an insti-tute for sisters held on four Saturdays during Advent and again on four Saturdays during Lent. Regis College has been conducting this institute for the past two years. The program found most suitable has been the following: 1:30 p.m., conference; 2:10 p.m., refresh-ments and social half-hour; 2:40 p.m., conference; 3:20 p.m., Benediction. Opportunity for confession is also provided., A preliminary questionnaire showed that the sisters preferred religious to academic topics. Some of the topics treated have been these: Appreciating the Mass; Mental Hygiene; Mystical Theology for Nuns; The Spiritual Life: The Psychology and Practical Diffi-culties of Prayer; Shakespeare and Catholicism; The Supernatural Life; Suffering; The Sisters in the Modern World; The Passion of Christ. The total attendance for the series in the first year was 1150 sisters. Unanimous requests for the continuance of the institutes show that the sisters like them and find them helpful. Catholic Periodical Index The Catholic Periodical Index covering the period, June, 1952- May, 1953, is now available. This contains a cumulative Author and Subject index to a selected list of Catholic periodicals. One has to see a publication like this to get even a faint idea 0f the pains-taking scholarship required in its composition. It is invaluable for libraries and writers. All communications regarding subscriptions, editorial policy, etc., should be addressed to: The Editor, Catholic Periodical Index, Catholic University of America. Room 301- Library, Washington 17, D.C. Catechism and Eucharistic Fast It is obvious that the new legislation on the Eucharistic fast re- (Continued on Page 102) 86 A Recent Con!:roversy on Obedience Richard W. Rousseau, S.J. ASMASH hit of the recent Paris stage for over a year was a play with an all-male cast: Hochw~ilder's Sur la terre cororoe au ciel (On Earth as It Is in Heaven). Though not a strictly historical play, it deals with the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Jesuit missions in Paraguay. In these missions, or reductions as they were ca/led, the Jesuits had built up a set of independent Indian cities where the Indians were learning the arts and crafts of a settled agri-cultural life, safe from the predatory, slave-making raids of certain Spanish settlers. Whether or not such a venture was by its very nature temporary and destined not to last is a moot question. In any case, it all came to a sudden and somewhat bloody end in 1767 when, heeding the trumped up charges of the discontented plantation owners, Charles III, King of Spain, ordered the reductions closed, the Indians dis-persed, and the Jesuits exiled. The play deals with those most dramatic moments of crisis when the Envoy of the King arrives with tbe message of dissolution, his imprisonment by the outraged Jesuit provincial, the arrival of the secret Jesuit messenger with orders from Rome to obey, the brief military clash, and the accidental death of the provincial. A French Dominican, H.-M. Feret, has written a short book of partly literary, partly theological criticism of the play) His literary conclusion is that the central theme'of the play is not obedience but rather the politico-ecclesiastical problem of the legitimity of the theocratic system of reductions. With that conclusion we are not concerned. The book treats of necessity, however, of obedience in itself. This section of the book has given rise to an interesting little controvers~ that we intend to examine here to see whether we can thus shed any additional light on that highly delicate problem of the Christian conscience. Fr. Feret's opinion is summed up in the fol-lowing passages: "The Christian theological explanation of obedience is relatively simple. Whether one considers the authority of the legislator who lSur la terre cororoe au ciel: le vrai drame de Hochtoalder, Contestations (Paris: Ed. du Cerf, 1953). 87 RICHARD W. ROUSSEAU ' Review for Religious develops and imposes ia law or the superior who watches over its ob-servance and applies it to concrete situations, or whether one consid-ers on the other hand the obedience of the inferior, the submission of the person who is subject to the law. we find that b:th submission and obedience, commanding and authority, have as a common, fun-damental norm th~ common good of the society or group in which takes place this commanding Or authority, this submission or obedi-ence . "That in addition obedience also concerns the personal life of the subject who obeys, if only in making clear to him how he can and must serve the common good, is quite clear: but this is only a secondary consideration. A superior does not give orders merely to intervene in the personal life as such of his subordinates, but to point out to them, and bring them to work for, the needs of the common good. In the same way, one does not obey to submit oneself to a superior, but in order to serve, by means of his orders, the common good of which he has the care.''2 Soon afterwards, dn the Jesuit journal 12tudes) Fr. Henri Hol-stein, S.J., commented thus on Fr. Feret's book: "Religious obedience is a sharing, through the habitual exercise of a spirit of faith, of the very obedience which St. Paul discerned in Christ, who became 'obedient unto death: even to the death of the cross.' . . . "[This] sharing of the obedience of Christ within the Church constitutes what we may call the objective side of Christian and reli-gious obedience. We must now show the subjective side, its place of insertion within the supernatural organism. We think that obedience flows from the theological virtue of faith, that it is inspired by a spirit of faith. Religious obedience is not, as a matter of fact, a purely sociological phenomenon, a way of acting demanded by the good order of the community .or by the efficient organization of the apostolate. 'It is essentially an attitude commanded b~j :aith.'" At this point, A.-M. Henry, O.P., one of the editors of the Dominican review of :spirituality, La Vie Spirituelle, enters the scene. In a short article4 he examines thus Ft.Holstein's pages. "Fr. Holstein is right it seems to us, in underlining the mystical side of obedience, in'presenting it as a sharing in the obedience of 21bid., pp. 48-50. 3Sept., 19~3: "Le myst~re de l'ob~issance.'" See pp. 147, 150, 152. 4"Le 'myst~re de l'oblissance'," La Vie Spirituelle. Nov., 1953. See p. 415. 88 March, 1954 CONTROVERSY ON OBEDIENCE Christ. It is. as a matter of fact, essentially that. Nevertheless, the doctrine he presents seems to us to be incomplete. We think, fur-thermore, that this criticism, in the best sense of the term, is not due simply to a question of emphasis or of a school of spirituality. We admire the obedience of the 'true sons' of the Society . But this does not prevent us from regretting the absence of two important points in the doctrine proposed by the worthy ,lesuit journal." Fr. Henry then develops two points: first, that obedience is not faith: and secondly, that obedience is not given immediately to God. A previous article of his in the Suplol~ment de La Vie Spirituelles had presented his own positive ideas on religious obedience. For his com-plete exposition of these two points both articles must be consulted. Explaining what he means when he says that obedience is not given irfimediately to God, Fr. Henry points to the fact that all gov-erning authority, civil as well as ecclesiastical, comes from God. The Church, he says, is not distinguished from other societies solely by the fact that it has hierarchical authority, but rather by its origin, its end, and its infallible teaching magisterium. Obedience' to govern-mental authority in the Church is not directed by norms that are entirely different from the norms that direct obedience to civil au-thority. All obedience is a free dependence, otherwise it is slavery. What then are the norms of this dependence? Here Fr. Henry admits the norm of Fr. Feret, but only in this context. He says that there are two necessary conditions for obedience to an order: first, that the order is not contrary to the divine positive or natural law, and sec-ondly, that it does not go b~yond the needs of the common good, which in all societies defines the power or jurisdiction of the superior. There are times when these conditions are not fulfilled, and then obedience must be refused. Here are some examples: the order of a local superior is directly contrary to that of a major superior; an or-der is given in a domain outside the power of the superior, e.g., if a Franciscan superior should order a Franciscan. to live his own spir-itual life according to the spirituality of the Societ'~ of 3esus: the weight of some orders, .their complexity and infinite detail make them tyrannical; or an order is against the natural or divine positive law. When therefore Fr. Holstein says "obedience consecrates to God not only a man's work, but the very principles of his'activities, his intellect and will," Fr. Henry answers that this can very well be 5$ept. 15, 1953, pp. 249-82: "Ob~issance commune et ob~issance rdigieuse." 89 RICHARD W. ROUSSEAU ¯ Ret~ieto for Religious understood as the complete gift of ourselves to God, which naturally includes our minds and wills (as in the Contemplation for Obtain-ing Di+ine Love of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius), but that this does not mean that we thereby somehow destroy the right and normal use of those faculties. He believes that the phrase as such, in the context of the article and lacking adequate distinctions, may lead to an understanding of obedience as a substitute for the natural and spontaneous working of the mind and will. For it can and does hap-pen that now and then men and women in religious orders thus mis-understand obedience, and see their minds and wills as mere instru-ments in the hands of the superior. Obedience is not' faith. This was Fr. Henry's first point. The Church herself, he says, is a supernatural society. To be a member of it requires supernatural admission. This supernatural society, be-sides her work of sanctifying through the sacraments, has a double function. The first 'is her teaching function. When she teaches for-mally,' she is infallible with the infallibility of God and .demands submission of the human intellect. The second is her governmental function or function of jurisdiction. Since she is a supernatural so-ciety, it follows that we could not recognize this authoritative func-tion of hers as legitimate, and therefore as representing God for us, without ultimately an act of faith. All this is, as Fr. Holstein rightly says, an imitation of the fa~ith and obedience of Christ. The object of the act of faith with regard to the governmental function of the Church is the office or the principle, that is, that the legitimate supe-rior represents God in the supernatural society which God has estab-lished. But--and this is extremely important, because it is where the expressions of certain writers can lead astray--the orders of a superior are not in themselves objects of faith, that is, they cannot command the assent of the intellect that is given only to the infalli-bility of God. When Fr. Holstein says that the submission which a religious grants to his superior is not given to a man but to the heavenly Father, whom he recognizes in the .superior--that is true, as long as one clearly distinguiShes the superior from God and the order of the superior from his office. The superior is essentially an intermediary and his orders are not infallible. Religious obedience is not based on the fact that the orders of the superior, since he repre-sents God, are infallible, but rather on the fact that since the superior has duly legitimate @uthority and is exercising it within the limits of that authority, his orders, even though objectively erroneous, are God's will for the subject and must be obeyed. 9O March, 1954 CONTROVERSY ON OBEDIENCE And so we come to the question of obedience of judgment, that Gordian knot Of religious obedience. Fr. Feret judges it rather se-verely. "Certain writers on obedience," he says, "mainly concerned with efficiency, whether ascetical or collective, have a tendency to preach a perfection of obedience that consists not only in a crushing of all self-will, which, putting aside all question of aboulia, is ac-ceptable enough, but even more, in a giving up of all personal opin-ign, or at least any opinion differing from that expressed in the su-perior's order. Now this, at le~ast if we judge by the moral the-ology of St. Thomas, runs the risk of an over-extension of obedi-ence that no good moralist could approve." Fr. Holstein does not treat explicitly of obedience of judgment, although the tone of his article supposes,it. And Fr. Henry treats it only incompletely. Fortunately, however, a pertinent article ap-peared recently in the theological review of the Diocese of Malines.~ The author, Fr. J. Brabants., a diocesan priest serving as a chaplain to nuns, had encount'ered so many theoretical difficulties concerning obedience of judgment .that he had decided to study the question more deeply. The results of his work are contained in the article, which has some penetrating observations and explanations. He treats with special clarity the case in which the subject, though willing to obey in act, finds that evidence to the contrary, forces him to recog-nize the objective unworthiness of an order. In such a case of physical impossibility of agreement by the intellect, must .we call the obedience of the subject mere obedience of execution or of the will? Would it then necessarily be excluded from the category of obedience of judgment, and therefore also from perfect obedience? This is the conclusion we must perforce come to if we demand actual conform-ity of the subject's mind with that of the superior as the essence of obedience of judgment. But is this what St. Ignatius himself taught? Fr. Brabants thus sums up St. Ignatius' formal teaching on the subject in his Letter On Obedience--teaching which must be carefully distinguished from those parts of the letter where St. Ignatius is merely being exhorta-tory or speaking" of practical means to acquire this perfection of obedience: "The complete and perfect offering of oneself is realized in the third degree of obedience by the submission of one's judgment to that of the superior in those cases in which the mind does not find itself bound bg the force of the truth . The really obedient man 6"Remarques sur l'ob~issance de jugement suivant saint Ignace," Collectanea Mech-liniensiao Nov., 1953, pp. 652-70. See especially p. 653. 91 RICHARD W. ROUSSEAU ought to bow to his superior s wishes. He approves the order re-ceived insofar at least as the will can bbnd the mind to this ap-prot~ al.'" Here St. Ignatius is teaching, first, that perfect obedience and obedience of judgment are identical; secondly, that sometimes the will, even though desiring to do so, cannot bring the intellect of the subject to agree with the superior's because the subject's intellect can in no way refuse solid, contrary arguments; thirdly, that obedience which of necessity cannot go beyond execution and will is rightly considered obedience of judgment; and fourthly, that this obedience of judgment is also perfect obedience. Obviously, however, if we give to the orders of superiors, be-cause of certain incomplete expressions concerning faith in obedience, a nature of quasi-infallibility, then actual conformity, at least by some very mysterious sort of faith, becomes essential to obedience of judgment and perfect obedience. But if, as has been explained, the motive of obedience is not the infallibility of the superior's order but his God-given function bf governmental authority, then actual in-tellectual conformity becomes accidental. We can define obedience of ju'dgment, therefore, as an inclination of the will to be so perfectly united with the will of the superior that it does all it can to bring the intellect to be in actual accord with the mind of the superior in a specific order unless reasons to the con-trary make this particular agreement impossible. We have thus examined all the authors and their articles. Re-garding the opinion of Fr. Feret, we agree with Fr. Holstein that it is inadequate. Rightfully, however, Fr. Henry points out that cer-tain aspects of Fr. Holstein's exposition need clarification, but be himself does not treat t,he question of obedience of judgment. On this last point, Fr. Brabants' article seems to us to present an illum-inating and interesting solution. We have taken the mystical notion of obedience.from Fr: Holstein, the thorough"analysis of the object and nature of obedience from Fr. Henry, and finally, from Ft. Bra-bants, the complementary considerations on the nature of obedience of judgment. And having made all the necessary distinctions and reservations, we can see in the sacrifices obedience occasions, in the graces it demands, in the faith it builds upon, in the trust in divine providence it requires, and in the identification it makes with the mystical obedience of Christ to his Father, how necessary and how noble a thing is religious obedience. 92 Benediction Brother Peter Goodman, C.S.C. IT IS INTERESTING to note during this Marian year that it was a devotion to Our Lady that was one of the forerunners of our present-day Benedidtion. It became the custom in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries for the faithful to gather together at the end of the day to sing hymns and canticles in honor of Mary. As this took place usually before her shrine in the local church, gradually another custom, that of exposing the Sacred Host for adoration (a carry over perhaps from the elevation at Mass), was added to give greater solemnity to the occasion. The use .Of a monstrance for holding the Host probably developed.from the need for such a vessel in which to carry the Host during the processions subsequent to the establishment of Corpus Christi. It has been suggested, too, that the monstrance might have originated from the practice of putting relics in glass reliquaries for veneration. As a fitting close for the service the Sacred Host was raised in blessing over the gathering. In .one of Cardinal Newman's lectures he describes the character and meaning of this rite in glowing terms, particularly the blessing. "It is our Lord's solemn benediction of His people, as when He lifted up His hands over the children, or when He blessed His chosen ones when He ascended up from Mount Olivet. As sons might come before a parent before going to bed at night, so once or twice a week the great Catholic family comes before the Eternal Father, after the bustle or the toil of the day: and He smiles upon them, and sheds upon them the light of His countenance. It is a full accomplish-ment of what the priest invoked upon the Israelites: 'The Lord bless thee and keep thee; the Lord show His face to thee, and have mercy on thee: the Lord turn His countenance to thee, and give thee peace.' " Upon reflection we might wonder why our vision of His counte-nance is not appreciably clearer, our peace not more firm and deep after we have received this blessing numberless times. Is it not be-cause we have failed to understand what is being done to "us, and failed to make full use of the power placed at our disposal? A,short paragraph in the encyclical Mediator Dei points the way 93 o . PETER GOODMAN Review for Religious to a keener appreciation of the rite of Benediction. In speaking of the blessing at the conclusion of the ceremony, our Holy Father says, i'. it is an excellent and fruitful thing that the priest, holding the Bread of Angels aloft before the bowed heads of the Christian multitude, and turning it about duly in the form of a cross, should pray the Heavenly Father kindly to turn His eyes to His Son crucified for love of us. and because of Him and through Him, Who willed to be our Redeemer and our Brother, should command supernatural gifts to flow forth to those who have been redeemed by the immaculate Blood of the Lamb." This eminently Christo-centric manner of approach is prob-ably not our usual method of praying at Benediction. We might be more inclined to bow low and feel, in imagination, the soft touch of Christ's pierced hands upon our heads and hear Him whisper, "See how much I have loved you." It requires faith, of course, to do this; faith in the Eucharistic Presence. But there are degrees in faith as there are degrees in shadow. Worldly things seen with our bodily eyes partake of the aspect of shadows'--"a, shadow's shadow, he, the Spokesman, tells us, a world of shadow!" (Ecclesiastes 12:8.) Things of the spirit, viewed with the eyes of faith, become clearer as faith deepens. To concentrate on the blessing itself, regarding it as a sort of mystical laying on of Christ's hands, does not seem to give suffi-ciently free rein to our habit of faith. Faith seeks not so much the blessing, as Him who bestows the blessing. It wants to encompass in an intuitive fashion this being who is not only human but divine. The Word was made visible to draw us upward to the love of things invisible. Christ tells us, "See, I hold you engraven on My hands and in My heart," but we are to pass through those wounds to knowledge of His Father and of the Holy Spirit. A lively faith is also acutely aware of Christ's role as Redeemer. The sacred humanity was ,broken by suffering that our human natures might be made whole by sharing in the very lif4 of the Trinity. To faith's clear vision, Christ is ever the "Lamb standing upright, yet slain" (Apoc. 5:6), the eternal Mediator between God and man. Our Lord has frequently urged us to pray in His name, to avail ourselves of His divine intercessory power. This we shall do if we pattern our sentiments at Benediction on the recommendation offered by His Holiness, Plus XII. Whet; the Sacred Host is raised above our heads in the salvific gesture of the cross, our first thought 94 March, 1954 BOOK REVIEWS will then be to beg thee Father to look upon His incarnated Son, formed by the operation of the Holy Spirit from the pure flesh of Mary. We shall remind Him to gaze upon the scars of the cruci-fixion sustained for love of us, the wounds in Christ's hands, feet, and heart. They are our means of violence with which we may rock heaven and bear away the Father's blessing. In virtue of these wounds, and of the love borne the Son by His Fa.ther, we can then with great confidence ask the Father to bless us and all the world. LISTEN, SISTER SUPERIOR. By John E. Moffaff, S.J. Pp. 208. McMul-len Books, Inc., New York: 1953. $2.75. Although one might strongly disagree with some points made by the author, yet the general impression created by Listen, Sister Supe-rior is that it is a thesaurus of practical advice, compiled by an ex-perienced director of sisters from his many years spent in giving re-treats to sisters throughout the country. Father Moffatt's creden-tials need hardly be given here because his many previous works have merited for him an enthusiastic throng of readers. As usual, the author's style is warm and engaging; his thought, uplifting and practical. As the title indicates, these spiritual chats are directed to superior's, but they are just as applicable and worth while to subjects. Often a sister in the ranks has suddenly lifted her eyes to find the hand of Divine Providence suture, oning her to lead others on the path of perfe.ction~ For many humble ones there is neither thought nor premonition that such an event could happen to them, and a wave of almost frantic helplessness overcomes them as they face their new obligations and realize their unworthiness and lack of preparation. Such persons will find this work a manual of arms in helping them to know clearly their new obligations: and the ideals presented would .soon enable the most timid to go forward with confidence, realizing with St. Paul that all things work unto good for those who love God. For the experienced sister superior each little chat might well provide matter for an examination of conscience and an inspiration in following her ideals. For the sister in the ranks this work will 95 BOOK REVIEWS ¯ Reoieto for Religious engender a greater understanding of the problems of her superior and will enable her to understand many decisions heretofore perplexing and seemingly harsh. For all, Listen, Sister Superior will pr.ovide an inspiring and refreshing review of the fundamental principles in-volved in silence, common life, poverty, rule of life, humility, jus-tice, and especially obedience.--EDWARD A. LARKIN, S.J. OBEDIENCE. Edited by A. PI~, O.P. Pp. viii ~ 289. The Newman Press, Westmins÷er, Maryland, 19S3. $3.7S. This volume contains the English version of a collection of re-ports presented by priests and sisters of various religious institutes at the 1950 conference of La Vie Spirituelle on the topic, "Obedi-ence and the Modern Nun." Although the book is primarily in-tended for religious women, more than half of the contents would be useful for all religious: and the entire book would seem to be indispensable for priests charged with the spiritual direction of re-ligious women. The loose unity characteristic of collections of this kind is offset in the present instance by an attitude and a theme which seem to have prey,ailed in most of the authors' approaches to their facet of the subject. The attitude is one of candor and honesty in facing the problem of evaluating and ordering the personalist and democratic tendencies which are certainly, if only indirectly, influencing con-temporary religious life. The theme is religious obedience as a vir-tue which involves a maximum of intelligent activity. The impact created by this contemporaneity of treatment is that of freshness rather than novelty. Suggestions and conclusions arise from a merger of the present historical condition with the vital tra-dition of Saints Basil, Benedict, Dominic, Francis, Ignatius, Thomas Aquinas, Teresa of ,Avila, John of the Cross, and Th~r~se of Lisieux. The tinique value of the book lies in this attt!mpt.to as-similate within the tradition of the Church whatever is good in modern psychology and the social drive toward personalism. Because of the variety of topics, a brief review can hardly give an accurate description of the contents of the book. Yet the flavor might at least be sampled by reading some short statements made by Henri Bissonier in histreatment of "Initiative and Obedience in Re-ligious Life." "Initiative is in full play when a subject can, and in some ways is obliged' to, give plain proof of his originality, free 4hoice and creativeness in the permissions he seeks. Obedience is in full play because the subject acts only when the permission sought 96 March, 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS comes back to him as a permission granted with the validity of a command" (p. 237). "In brief, let initiative be not only tolerated by superiors but conceded, allowed, encouraged and almost, imposed. so long as a subject needs to be drawn out of that dangerous inertia which merely counterfeits obedience" (p. 238). The whole tendency of this book is to arouse a new appreciation and enthusiasm for obedience.-~ROBERT D. CROZIER, S.J. ~ BOOK NOTICES To GOVERN Is TO LOVE, by F. X, Ronsin, S.J., translated from the French by Sister Eugenia Logan, S.P., is addressed to superiors of religious women. Translations have appeared in Italian and Spanish, and others are being prepared in Polish, Dutch, and Por-tuguese. This book is a r~sum4 of a much larger work published by the ~uthor in 1947 under the title Pour Mfeux Gouoerner, which has not as yet been translated into English. It is divided into four parts: I, To Know Subjects; II, To Understand Subjects; III, To Form Subjects; IV, To Love Subjects. Although it is not easy reading, perhaps because it is a condensation, still superiors will find it well worth while to make a study of the points discussed and to ponder on them, for their benefit as well as for that of the members of the community. (New York: Society of Saint Paul, 1953. Pp. 288. $3.00.) ~ To write profoundly, correctly, simply, a~d clearly on any aspect of the Catholic teaching on grace is a genuine achievement. John V. Matthews, S.J., once did this on the subject of actual grace. More recently be has done the same thing as regards sanctifying grace. THE LIFE THAT IS GRACE gives in simple, readable chapters the profound truths pertaining to the doctrine of sanctifying grace, and presents these truths in a practical, inspirational manner. (West-minster, Md.: The Newman Press. 1953. Pp. vii q- 196. $2.50.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part. these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis. A Life of Mar~t, Co-Redemptrix. By Peter A. Resch, S.M. "This little work tries to set forth the life of the Blessed Mother 97 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review [or Religious simply and positively, amplifying the gospel story only by the in-~ terpretations which the Church seems to favor in her liturgy, in her papal pronouncements, and in her recognized commentators." Pp. 96. $1.00. CATHOLIC LITERATURE DISTRIBUTORS, 660 N. Dearborn St., Chicago 10, I11. The Wife Desired. By Leo J. Kinsella. As the title indicates, this book gives the qualities that are desired in a good wife. Ac-cording to the various chapters, the wife desired is an inspiration to her husband, has personality, is patient, is a physical being, has a sense of humor, is a companion to her husband, and is religious. This is the first book to be published by the Catholic Literature Distributors. Pp. 168. $2.50. (Paper edition, 70 cents.) THE DAUGHTERS OF ST. PAUL, Old Lake Shore Road, Derby,N.Y. Louis Martin: An Ideal Father. By Louis and Marjorie Wust. In this book the authors have given us "the first life in English of a saintly father of a sainted daughter." This life of the father of the Little Flower of Jesus "is presented in a pleasant and entertaining style." Pp. 375. $3.00. (Paper edition, $1.50.) EXPOSITION PRESS, 386 Fourth Ave., New York 16, N. Y. Living for God. By Rev. Manuel Milagro, C.M.F. "The book is designed for those who have a fair knowledge of the doc- .trine and the teachings of faith, hope, and charity; who have expe.ri-enced the bitterness of the struggle required to lead a virtuous life; but yet, who find their way more or less clouded by a feeling of anxiety." Pp. 116. $2.50. FIDES PUBLISHERS, 21 W. Superior St., Chicago 10, Ill. Wisdom Shall Enter. By Leo J. Trese. A book of modern apologetics presented in readable style. Contains an introduction, sixteen chapters, and two appendices., The chapters deal with standard apologetic themes: existence of God; man's immortality and freedom; need of religion; credentials of Christ and His Church; and so forth. The appendices treat briefly of the nature of God, and of the dictum that outside the Catholic Church there is no salvation. Pp. 144. $2.75. The Apostolic Itch. By Vincent J. Giese. "A group of reflec-tions from the lay point of view, on the lay apostolate, particularly the directions it should take in the years ahead." The author is edi-torial director of Fides Publishers, which is dedicated to serying the 98 March, 19~4 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS lay apostolate. Pp. 126. $2.75. The Kingdom Is Yours. By P. Forestier, S.M. An "unpre-tentious commentary of the Gospel," as the author says in his Preface, in which "youth will be able to meet Christ, to hear His teachings directly, to gaze at leisure upon His sacred person, and to learn at first hand the virtues that make true and perfect Christians. Young men and women will realize that religion is not like other school subjects, such as science or literature, for instance. They will discover that religion enriches the whole personality--the mind, the heart, and the soul." Pp. xiii q- 189. $3.50. WILFRED FUNK, INC., 153 E. 24th St., New York 10, N;Y. Catholic Shrines in the United States and Canada. By Francis Beauchesne Thornton. "What.I have tried to do is to give the his-tory of noted places of popular pilgrimages: places where the attrac-tion of a saint, an atmosphere, or a devotion, has drawn men and women with the compelling magnetism Chartrek had for Henry Adams" (from the author's Preface). The book tells the story of one hundred and nineteen of these noted places and gives exact loca-tions, with maps and photographs. Beautifully printed and illus-trated. A distinctive contribution to the story of Catholicism in Canada and the United States. Its price, as prices range ~today, is very moderate. It should be in every Catholic home and institution. Pp. xii + 340. $4.75. GILL ~ SON, 50 Upper O'Connell St., Dublin, Ireland. Our Lady of the Smile. By Rev. St6phane doseph Piat, O.F.M. One of the memorable events in the life of the Little Flower is the apparition of Our Lady when she was a child. It was at this time that Our Lady smiled on Th6r~se. In this book Father Piat shows how the Little Flower later fostered the devotion to Our Lady of the Smile, and how this. devotion has spread since her death. Pp. x + 134. 5/6. We Catholics. By Robert Nash, S.d. This is a second volume of short essays on what might be called the everyday spirituality of Catholics. Besides the Introduction. there are twenty-six essays on practical topics and in the readable style that we have come naturally. to expect of Father Nash. Pp. viii ~- 136. 5/. Plus X. By Fr. Hieronymo Dal-Gal. ~Translated and adapted from the Italian by Thomas F. Murray, M.A. An authentic bi- 9grapby based on ot~cial records. For the sake of readability this English adaptation omits the notes and abbreviates some of the 99 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENT~ Reuieu~ for Religious material contained in the original Italian. Good for both private and public reading. Pp. xv ÷ 246. 15/. THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Mission [or Margaret. By Mary Fabyan Windeatt. This is a life of St. Margaret Mary, with special reference to the devotion to the Sacred Heart and the practice of Communion on the First Fri-day, told in story form. Pp. 230. $3.00. B. HERDER BOOK CO., 15 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. The Philosophy of Being. By Rt. Rev. Louis De Raeymaeker. Translated by Rev. Edmund H. Ziegelmeyer, S.J. A synthesis of metaphysics in which "the author follows the lines of thought of St. Thomas Aquinas, and makes convincing application of the doc-trines of the analogy of being and the real distinction between es-sence and existence in all contingent beings." Not a textbook: but suggestions for using' it as a textbook are furnished by the trans-lator. Pp. xii -k 360. $4.95. HOLY SHROUD GUILD, Esopus, N. Y. Self-Portrait of Christ. By Edward A. Wuenschel. C.SS.R. The author is a recognized authority on the Holy Shroud of Turin. In this book' he presents the arguments for and against the authenticity of the Shroud and concludes that it is authentic. Good photographs of the Shroud are included, as well as an excellent and detailed bibliography. Pp. 128. $1.00 (paper). P. J. KENEDY ~ SONS, 12 Barclay St., New York 8. N.Y. A Doctor at Calt~ar~t. By Pierre Barbet, M.D. Translated from the French by the Earl of Wicklow. In this book Dr. Barber, an eminent French surgeon, gathers together his many writings and lectures on the physical sufferings of Christ. His interest in this sub-ject began when be saw photographs 6f the Holy Shroud. His work is based on a careful study of the impressions on the Shroud, as well as of archaeology, history, scriptural exegesis, and so forth. Pp. 178, plus 12 pages of photographs. $3.00. The Epistles in Focus. By B. Lawler, S.J. Contains a'n explan-atory foreword and sixteen chapters. The first two chapters are in-troductory. "All the remaining chapters," says the author, "are devoted to one or two Epistles in turn. Each c,hapter contains (i) useful information, followed by (ii) a brief commentary. (i) The information is partly certain, partly conjectural: you need not take it all as 'gospel-truth,,' . . . (ii) The commen'tary makes no preten- 100 March, 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS sions either to completeness or to havir;g a balanced selection of learned opinions. It is merely what I regard as necessary or useful for the ordinary reader." The book concludes with useful schematic summaries of the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistles. Pp. 165. $3.00. NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Faith and Prayer. By Vincent McNabb, O.P. A reprint of works formerly published by Father McNabb. Pp. ix-I- 215. $3.50. The Fulness of Sacrilice. By A. M. Crofts, O.P. A study of the Eucharist intended to "help the reader to appreciate the Sacrament and Sacrifice of the Eucharist, not.merely as a truth isolated within itself, but as the culmination of God's vast and eternal design of Re-demption, gradually unfolded down the ages of preparation, and, once fulfilled, for ever perpetuating the fulness of sacrifice in the re-deeming mystery of the Messiah."' Pp. 296. $3.00. The Trinity in Our Spiritual Life. By Dom Columba Marmion, O.S.B. The Abbot Marmion once composed a beautiful Consecra-tion to the Blessed Trinity. This book contains the Act of Conse-cration, and an explanation of each part of the Act by means of apt selections from other published works of Dora Marmion. Pp. 284. $3.50. The Scale of Perfection. By Walter Hilton. A noted English classic on perfection translated into modern English, with an intro-duction and notes by Dom Gerard Sitwell, O.S.B. The fifth volume to be published in the new Orchard Series. A book which is indis-pensable for the student of Christian asceticism and mysticism and which makes charming and unctious spiritual reading. Pp. xx-~ 316. $3.50. RADIO REPLIES PRESS, 5'00 Robert St., St. Paul 1, Minn. That Catholic Church. By Rev. Dr. Leslie Rumble, M.S.C. Edited in collaboration with the Rev. Charles Carty. A sequel and companion book to the three volumes of radio replies published pre-viously by Frs. Rumble and Carry. This volume contains 1650 replies to questions, also a detailed index. Pp. x ÷ 453.$3.50. (Paper edition, $2.50.) TEMPLEGATE, 719 E. Adams St., Springfield, Ill. Christopher's Talks to Catholic Teachers. By'David L. Green-stock. Advice to Catholic teachers covering their own preparation, religious teaching methods, the manner of dealing with various age 101 NEWS AND VIEWS Reoiew /:or Religious groups, also of dealing with the abnormal child, vocational counsel-ing, and so forth. Pp. xi + 228. $3.75. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., 53 Park Place, New York 7, N.Y. Kegs to the Third Floor. By Philip E. Dion, C.M. A very practical and readabl~ .treatise on how to live the religious life well especially by imitating Christ in His obedience, His love of the poor, His love of the cross, and His love of enemies. Pp. 188. $3.25. Nr-WS AND VII:WS (Continued from Page 86) quires some changes in our catechisms. Of special interest, there-fore. is the communication of the Sacred Congregation of the Coun-cil published in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, December 16, 1953, pp. 809-810. According to this communication, the Sacred Con-gregation of the Holy Office, with the approval of the Holy Father, has ordered certain changes in nn. 335, 339, and 340, of the Catechism of Blessed Pius X. The following is an accurate sense-translation of the new version of these numbers: 335. What is required to make a good Communion? Ans. To make a good Communion, three things are required: (1) to be in the state of grace: (2) to know and to bea~ in mind who is going to be received; (3) to be fasting from midnight. 339. In what does the Eucharistic fast consist? Ans. The Eucharistic fast consists in abstaining from food or drink of any kind, with the exception of plain water. 340. May one who is not fasting euer receiue Communion? Ans. One who is not fasting may receive Communion in danger of death; also in definite circumstances determined by the Church. 340-bis. What are these de£nite circumstances determined by the Church ? Ans. They are the following: , 1) The sick may receive Holy Communion, even after taking medicines or liquids; if, because of grave inconvenience recognized as such by the confessor, they are unable to observe a complete fast. 2) Those who receive Communion at a late hour or after a long journey or after fatiguing work may take some liquid nour-ishment up to an hour before going to Communion, if they experi-ence grave inconvenience recognized as such by the confessor in ob- 102 March, 1954 NEWS AND VIEWS serving a complete fast. 3) At evening Masses, those who have abstained from solid foods for three hours and from liquid for one hour may receive Communion, 340-ter. When permission is granted to take liquids, are alcoholic drinks included? Ans, When permission is granted to take liquids, alcoholic drinks are excluded. Summer Sessions Reverend James I. O'Connor, S.J., professor of canon law at West Baden College, will ~ive a course entitled "Canon Law con-cerning Religious," at Immaculate Heart College, Los Angeles, from June 28 to July 31, inclusive. This is a general course directed to all religious women, and it will be given during the regular summer session. There is adequate housing on th~ campus for out-of-town religious. For further information address: The Dean, Immaculate Heart College, Los Feliz and Western Avenue, Los Angeles 27, California. The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia. Dallas, Pennsylvania, (a three-year summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for sisters) will be held this year August 20-31. This is the second year in the triennial course. The course in canon law is given by the Reverend :losepb F. Gallen, S.J., that in ascetical theology by the Reverend Daniel J. M. Callahan, S.J., both of Woodstock College. The registration is restricted to higher su-periors, their councilors and officials, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to the Rev. Jo-seph F. Gallen, S.J., Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. Marquette University offers an Institute on Canon Law for Re-ligious, to be held on six week ends during the 1954 summer session. The Institute will be conducted by the Reverend Adam C. Ellis, S.J., a member of the editorial board of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Although primarily intended for superiors, masters and mistresses of novices, councilors, bursars, and others charged with some direction of reli-gious communities, the institute will be open to all religious. The meetings will be held on successive Friday afternoons at 3:30-5:15, and successive Saturday mornings at 9:00-11:00. The first ses-sions will be June 18-19. Father Ellis will also give one special con-ference on "The Mind of the Church in the Government of Reli-gious," discussing such problems as adaptation, studies, physical care 103 NEWS AND VIEWS Retffew ~or Religious of the community, sleep, diet, work, and the like. Another special feature will be a question box. Registration fee for all twelve sessions will be ten dollars; for individual sessions, one dollar. For a detailed list of topics to be treated at the various sessions, as well as for regis-tration and further information write to: The Director, Summer Session, Marquette Universi.ty, Milwaukee 3, Wisconsin. C, anonizaflons, 195 I The Clergy Monthly, edited by the Jesuit Fathers at St. Mary's Theological College, Kurseong, D.H. Ry., India, has published short biographical sketches of those who have been beatified or canonized during ~he reign of Pope Plus XII. With the gracious permission of the Editor of The Clergy Monthly, we have already reprinted the biographical sketches of those canonized or beatified from 1939 to the end of the Holy Year, 1950. (See RE.VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII [1949], 3-17; IX [1950], 330-31; X [1951], 225-38.) The following are brief sketches of those canonized during 1951: St. Emily de Vialar: born, 1797; died 1856; beatified, 1939; canonized, June 24, 1951. Foundress of the Sisters of St. Joseph "of the Apparition." By 1952 her institute had become an impor-tant missionary congregation, with 2,000 members in 125 houses. St. Mary Dominic Mazzarello: born, 1837; died, 1881; beati-fied, 1938; canonized, June 24, 1951. Cofoundress, with St. John Bosco, of, the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians. Don Bosco wanted a congregation that would do for girls what his own Sales-ians were doing for boys. By 1952 there were more than 14,000 Salesian Sisters in 58 countries. St. Anthony Gianelli: born, 1789 ; died, 1846 ; beatified, 1925 ; canonized, October 21, 1951. As a diocesan 15riest he distinguished himself in educational work and in the parish ministry. In 1838 he was appointed bishop of Bobbio. He founded an institute of sisters for teaching poor children and nursing the sick-~the Daughters of Mary dell' Orto. In 1952 this institute had 1,400 members in Europe, Latin America, and Asia. St. Francis-Xaoier Biancbi: born, 1743; died 1815; beatified, 1893; canonized, October 21, 1951. A Barnabite, professor of theology, great preacher, and director of souls. The peopl~ of Naples venerated him as the Philip Neri of their city. St. lgnatius of Laconi: born, 1701: died 1781; beatified, 1940; canonized, October 21, 1951. A Sicilian Capuchin lay brother/ He i 04' March, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES spent most of his long life begging food for the Capuchin monastery --an occupation that gave him many opportunities to do good for souls. The last three.salnts, the Holy Father observed on the occas;on of their canonization, differed much in their external life--a bishop, a theologian, and a lay brother--but all three were great apostles. All three were remarkable for overcoming natural family affections and self-love, for being constantly united with God in the midst of manifold occupations, and for dedicating themselves ardently to the salvation and sanctification of their neighbor. Francis N. Korth, S.J. An informal two-day gathering of a number of priests interested in secular institutes was held at the Morrison Hotel in Chicago, Feb-ruary 22 and 23. Various parts of the country were represented. The meeting developed out of a questionnaire sent to interested per-sons last December. The questionnaire mentioned the possibility of a meeting of priests who might already know something about sec-ular institutes or who might be desirous of learning something about this type of institute. Those who received the questionnaire were asked to contact other priests who might be interested. Father Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C., of Notre Dame University, was chiefly re-sponsible for getting the meeting together. A small but select group of priests gathered for the opening ses-sion at ten o'clock the morning of February 22. It became imme-diately apparent that these priests had come together for a very definite purpose and that they were wholeheartedly concerned with the topic under discussion. A short introductory paper followed by discussion was the planned outline for each session. The lively, lengthy discussions that characterized each meeting amply fulfilled all expectations. The first paper treated the topic: "The Role of Secular Institutes in the Church Today." It was presented by the Reverend Raymond E. Bernard, S.J., of the Institute of Social Order at St. Louis. A number of pertinent historical items, from the eighteenth century up FRANCIS N. KORTH Reoieu., [or Religious to the present time, were noted. It was pointed out that the blend-ing of firmness and flexibility in the Prooida Mater Ecclesia wisely allowed for the growth of the new institutes under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. ~ The afternoon session of the first day was devoted to a paper and discussion on the juridical requirements of secular institutes, the initial ~teps to be taken in forming a group that might develop into a secular institute, further steps, consolidation, and final ap-proval in a diocese. Subsequent papal approval is a further possi-bility. This matter was ably presented by the Reverend Andr~ Guay, O.M.I., Director of the Catholic Center at the University of Ottawa. Guides in formulating steps of development are the docu-ments that have emanated from the Holy See and the constitutions of approved secular institutes. The first definite general purpose of a secular institute is the sanctification of its members; any apostolate that follows is an outgrowth of that. There must also be a definite specified purpose, which might be quite general, such as the purpose to undertake the various types of work the bishop may suggest, provided there is no one else to do that work. At the beginning de facto approval by the local ordinary should be obtained, and then the group will function as best it can. Great care is to be exercised in admitting applicants, since there is question of a very special vocation for life, a vocation that makes peculiar de-mands upon the individual because of the complete dedication of oneself to a practice of the evangelical counsels in the world. In a true vocation of this kind God's grace will not be wanting. After experience shows that the group can function along the lines of a possible secular institute and that it has within itself the potential ability to carry on, the bishop is to be approached again, this time for de jure recognition of the existing group as a pious as-sociation of some kind (society, sodality, or some other form). After such recognition is obtained, the succeeding period is

Issue 65.3 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Bei~ Religiofis ~QUARTERLY 65~3 2006 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with Godi .dialogue with ourselves, and dialog4~e with one another about the holiness we tryto live according to gts~ari~s o.f Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul VI said, our way Of being dsurcb is today tlse~, way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. 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See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~gournalof Catholic ~piri~uality view for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB "Kathleen Hughes R$CJ Louis ~nd Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.3 2006 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 coming together The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Restrospective Karen M. Kennelly CSJ summarizes the thinking and the participants' interaction at the 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress held in Rome and proposes that some themes should impact local chapters and congregational meetings. ¯ Reflection and Discussion Questions 244 A New Way of Meeting . Rachael M. Harrington SNDdeN describes one carefully planned attempt to capture new life and meaning that might be incorporated into the usual chapter or congregational meeting. 226 255 meeting God Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Ernest E. Larkin OCarm describes the prayer of aspiration, reviews its hisory in spirituality, identifies a few of its main proponents, and suggests ways that we might make it part of our lives. Reflection Questions Review for Religious 272 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises Philip Shano SJ reflects upon the purpose and use of repose days within the Ignatian thirty-day retreat and raises questions for retreat directors. 283 Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Charles P. Farrar praises the spiritual theology of Hopkins's sonnet which describes the experience of personal loss with the metaphor of a lantern passing in the night. What first seems subjective and formulaic proves to be psychologically and theologically insightful. 293 3O4 being religious Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Raymond R. Ryan OSA allows younger members within the religious congregation to present a snapshot picture of their hopes and desires for community life and mission. These Strawberries Are Divine! Sisters and a Spirituality of Living on Earth Colleen Carpenter Cullinan provides a glimpse of the contributions of Catholic religious congregations of women in founding farms and Earth centers as places to raise organic food and educate people about the deep human connection to God's creation. Prayer / Reflection and Discussion Questions departments 319 Scripture Scope: Reading the Gospel of John 323 Canonical Counsel: Archives of Religious Communities 328 Book Reviews 65.3 2006 prisms Tintroduce the Gospel story of the Annunciation, St. Ignatius Loyola would have us picture the three divine Persons of the Trinity in dialogue about how better to accom-plish the salvation of humankind. We might describe it as the first communal discernment. The meetings that people hold when things are to be decided--meetings sometimes so contentious that they seem "eternally" long--can be seen as human strivings to imitate the wise personal planning of the Blessed Trinity. As our journal's mission statement declares, Pope Paul VI identified dialogue as a way of being church, especially in our time. Our world, with its instant communication by radio, television, Internet, and cell phone, has often taken away from us our black-and-white, simplistic judgments about who is the enemy, about who is being saved, about what other religions believe, about under-standing sexual orientations and various complex life issues, and about the cultural values of a world society. In the Old Testament's Book of Genesis, Cain's question, "Am I my brother's keeper?" has been answered definitively by our Christian faith. Jesus in giving us his one commandment allows for no wiggle room: we are to love God with all our mind, soul, and strength and our neighbor as our-selves. And loving, as all marriages and deep friendships know, takes a lot of dialoguing. We all are aware that our love of God devel-ops through a dialogue called prayer. Mthough there are many books describing some classic Re~iew for Religious forms of praying, usually drawn from the practice and example of the holy men and women preceding us, we still must make our conversation with God our own. We are not on stage, reciting lines written by some playwright. God and we share from our hearts. That is why prayer, even in its quiet moments, is always a dialogue. As in every deep human relationship, the dialogue of sharing never has an end. In fact, this signifies the promise of eternal life with God. For many of us today, meetings seem a way of life. We see it in world diplomacy, we know it in business, we par-ticipate in it in our parishes, in our religious communities, and in our neighborhood associations. Most of us desire fewer meetings, more efficiently run meetings, meetings with clearer outcomes, and meetings which bring about something better for everyone involved. For we are aware of many frustrations in communal dialogue. We have exam-ples on the international scale, on the church level, and in religious-life interworkings where dialogue breaks down or perhaps is never entered into. Just as personal dialogue with God (prayer) portends our relational life with God forever, so group dialogue in meetings, conferences, and religious chapters needs to be valued as our way of enter-ing more closely into the dialogical life of God. "Dialogue is our way of being church." We are the church. Our identity is not just in our prayer; it is lived out in the necessary human interactions of today's com-plex world. In our meetings, conferences, and religious chapters, let us work to discover how God is entering us more deeply into God's own life--a life of shared dialogue. If the incarnation is the result of our trinitarian God's meet-ing, in what ways are God and divine grace present to the world in our human meetings? David L. Fleming SJ 65.3 2006 KAREN M. KENNELLY The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Retrospective coming together 230] A myriad of thoughts and images come to mind as I look back at the Congress on Consecrated Life held in Rome in November 2004: hundreds of faces, a babble of languages, colorful multinational garb, and icons of the Woman at the Well and the Good Samaritan focusing us on the congress theme, "Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity." The mixed composition of the congress made it unique. For the first time, leadership from both women's and men's congregations met in an international con-vocation to address a common agenda. Repre-sentatives of the national and international conferences of religious, groups of young religious and theologians, and editors of religious journals joined religious superiors as full participants. Karen M. Kennelly CSJ, a member of her congregation's leadership team, may be addressed at Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet; 2311 S. Lindbergh Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63131. Review for Religious A further note of uniqueness lay in the process used to prepare for, carry out, and follow up on the meeting. Preparation spanned a four-year period involving "envisioning" and "theological summary" groups. The first group sought to achieve consensus on the actual reality of religious life today by eliciting facts and testimonials from around the world. The second analyzed the collected information from a theological perspective and summarized it in a working paper sent in advance to all congress participants. We all had an opportunity to express our preferences for small-group discussions on topics drawn from the working paper. Theologians responsible for composing the paper came from Norway, Spain, France, Italy, the United States, the Philippines, and Burkina Faso. Others, from Mexico, Germany, and Peru, collaborated via the Internet. During the congress a third or "Listeners" group gathered impressions and ideas as they were expressed in papers presented by the major speakers, in written reports from groups, and in comments from the floor. This group's work culminated in a synthesis presented to the congress on the last day. My experience as a member of the Listeners group made me aware of the congress planners' painstaking efforts to be as pluralistic and inclusive as possible, achieving active participation by those present to the extent that numbers, languages, and ~ime permitted. As with the other groups, our membership comprised about equal numbers of women and men, drawn from every continent. From day to day our dialogue grew in intensity as we listened, exchanged impressions and observations, and began identifying common threads among the multiplicity of ideas brought to the floor. The principal speakers brought unique perspectives to the assessment of contemporary religious life, beginning 6~.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 232 ] with a joint paper by two Italians, Bruno Secondin and Diana Papa, a Carmelite and a Poor Clare. They invited the 847 participants, gathered at some ninety round tables and aided by simultaneous translations into six languages, to begin the adventure of immersing themselves in the themes articulated in the working paper. Dolores Aleixandre, of Spain, a Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and a theologian, brought scriptural exegesis to the congress's theme, religious life as passion for Christ and for humanity. She saw in the icons of the Samaritan Woman and the Good Samaritan "a call to center ourselves on the essential, to a different way of relating to each other, of supporting each other intercongregationally, of making room for the laity" (cited from her paper as published in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005, pp. 91-125)--insights that were to be echoed frequently by congress participants in the days to come The Brazilian Jesuit Jo~o Batista Lib~nio brought a sociological and liberation-theology perspective to religious life at the beginning of the third millennium. He spoke of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience as having significance today only in relation to three elements: an experience of God, community life, and mission. He challenged us to rethink consecrated life from the bottom up in the light of contemporary reality with all its "ambiguity, perplexity, and paradox" (PCPH, pp. 127-171). The British Dominican Timothy Radcliffe asked "what signs religious life offers" in the wake of the World Trade Towers' destruction on 11 September 2001, an event he views as symbolic of the world in which religious life exists today, paradoxically bound ever more tightly together by instant communication and ever more deeply divided by violence (PCPH, pp. 173-189). How, he asked, Review for Religious can religious be a "sign of humanity's common home in God" in a world suffering a crisis of homelessness? What future awaits religious life in a world seemingly offering only a future of violence? What has religious life to offer as the culture of control and the struggle for hegemony intensify? A North American voice was heard in the person of an Immaculate Heart of Mary sister, Sandra M. Schneiders. She picked up on a topic Radcliffe had noted as fundamental but had not explored, namely, the culture of consumerism and our -:~ witness to poverty. Her reflections involved a discussion of how religious incarnate renunciation of the "world" and go about creating "the alternate world generated by the profession of the vows" (PCPH, pp. ' i '~ " ~ ' ' 191-218). Characterizing the . ~ . "' -' ~ . . religious lifestyle as one rooted in the "public, lifelong commitment of the members, as individuals and as communities, to a characteristic approach to material goods, power, and sexuality," she caught the assembly's imagination early in her talk with her arresting statement that she would discuss, not "the future Of religious life," but rather "religious life of the future." Schneiders's imaginative and theologically profound exploration of evangelical poverty as the "economy of the reign of God," and of prophetic obedience as the "politics of the reign of God," gave us much to think about as Vincentian Franc Rod6, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), brought the series of formal presentations to a close with a recapitulation of major .¢":t~lig!oU~ life,'in a world ~seemingly offering only ~a~tu~e ff v~ole~ce? 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 234 themes in recent papal documents such as Hta consecrata and Novo millennio ineunte (PCPH, pp. 219-2 3 6). Participants next divided into continental groups to look at sociological factors touching upon consecrated life in their own continents, noting both positive and negative effects these factors were thought to have on the capacity of religious to be passionate for Christ and for humanity. Some of the most acute observations expressed in the congress--whether from the floor during open-microphone time or in the hastily written reports-- flowed from these gatherings. As Listeners striving to perceive the essence of group contributions, we constandy had to make allowances for the great diversity within the somewhat artificial continental categories. The Europeans prefaced their report by describing it as a "communion of intentions" and "truly an exercise in European communion," given the different languages and situations in which Europe finds itself. Asians noted the vastness of their continent and its diversity of languages, cultures, religions, and political and economic systems before commenting on their many shared concerns. The Africans' preface included this in bold type: "Note: in Africa it is not possible to generalize. There is great diversity in the situations." Those from Oceania, the smallest segment of the congress, nevertheless noted the extremes they represented: countries with predominantly Western European lifestyles and countries where the lifestyles are indigenous to Melanesia and the Pacific. Only the North American and Latin American groups dispensed with such cautions and addressed directly their shared task of identifying the impact of sociological factors on religious life as they experienced it. Themes from the continental groups that seem worthy of special attention, whether for their singularity Review for Religious or their commonality, include gender issues; war, violence, and disease; globalization; aging, institution-alization, and rigid structures; and clear signs of new life among religious. Religious from every continent saw gender issues as adversely affecting contemporary religious life. Europeans referred to "the open question of gender" and felt that, "because of the sexual abuse and the impact on the mass media, consecrated life is reduced in energy and its ability to witness: a sense of desolation pervades and passion is suppressed." Asians underscored "male North Americans were succinct in ~their assertion that "the ~ ~,!sociology' within the church is-an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity." domination in society and church" and "machismo and male domination" as sociological factors adversely affecting them. The African report alluded to the problem in rather oblique fashion by noting that "the idea of relations between men and women continues to be very much determined by the culture." North Americans were succinct in their assertion that "the sociology within the church is an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity. The lack of inclusivity . . . results in feelings of displacement in the church, a sense of being marginalized by many, particularly in women's communities." Those from the Latin American (and Caribbean) continental group cited as important values "awareness of the processes of exclusion and the greater involvement of women." They felt they were being called to "generate a feminine 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress religious life with more involvement and responsibility for the building of a new history and a feminine consciousness-raising that challenges the machismo in society and in the church." The Oceania report minced no words in seeing as a problem the "public face of the church: powerful, antiwomen, and hypocritical." It came as no surprise that Europeans were the most forceful in pointing out the "aging of the population, the generation gap in religious life," and "rigidity in structures, even of consecrated life" as sociological factors with negative effects on religious life. In other words, they asserted that the passion of religious for humanity is blocked by the "way in which our structures are closed and in which we are closed towards the world of the laity." Less predictable was the echoing of this view by other groups. The Asians, for example, felt that institutionalization in their region had created a gap between them and the people, "especially the poor, who identify us with the rich," and that "religious structures have stifled the spirit and dynamism of religious life. The young feel restricted and their freedom hindered by structures the old always lean on." A similar concern shows up in the African report; it lists as negative aspects "the weight of tradition" and "a way of seeing authority at the level of leaders, a traditional conception which still dominates both society and religious life." This report speaks urgently of a need for reflection on consecrated life that is distinctly African, a need to find an African way of following Christ. Such thoughts question the worth of structures inherited from a colonial past. These concerns surfaced also in the Asian group, which considered it deplorable that "Asian religious have been uprooted from their rich culture." The report from Oceania, too, alluded to rigid structures when it asserted that "restorationism" in the church, Review for Religious while attracting people looking for security, has caused consecrated life to lose credibility as a radical commit-ment to justice. The Latin Americans saw sociological factors to be causes or occasions of religious being "tamed by the institution [of religious life], tired, with little hope, disenchanted, adapting, living in indifference, [possessing] little consciousness of [consecrated life's] own identity, of its own ability to search, [experiencing] great difficulty in having deep interpersonal relationships with others and with God." They offered the intriguing possibility of countering this loss of the prophetic and mystic elements of religious life by working with the "small utopias which act in favor of humanity and in collaboration with other ecclesial, intercongregational, and extraecclesial groups that search for the same reality/values/things." The impact had on contemporary religious life by war, other forms of violence, and disease was noted by every group but particularly by the Africans, who noted the prevalence of AIDS, malaria, and other diseases and the instability resulting from wars and ethnic and religious conflicts in that continent. "Violence is growing: it questions us," said the Europeans. Asians expressed serious concern over effects of war and violence, especially in the Middle East, and over the "rise of religious fundamentalism, resulting in communal violence." North Americans deplored the "normalization of violence" and what they perceived as its causes. All groups saw globalization as exerting a great influence on society and on consecrated life today. The Africans saw it--along with urbanization, unem-ployment, and migration--as contributing to poverty at various levels. They blamed it for "hindering a deep form 237 ,i 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 238 of communication" and for contributing to a lack of reflection specifically on African consecrated life. Asians saw "elitist globalization" as having destructive effects on the poor and marginalized, on families, and especially on youth. Latin Americans described "neoliberal globalization" as destroying "what is particular to/in our countries," as especially damaging to young people, and as a spur to migration, with its multiple social dislocations. Oceania observed globalization as affecting the entire region-- countries indigenous in character and countries predominantly Western European--by widening the gap between rich and poor and "elevating greed to the status of a virtue." This summary of.the continental group reports, brief though it is, suggests a major accomplishment and a major flaw of the congress. Those present heard the voices of religious from every corner of the world with a wonderful immediacy and force. On the other hand, we simply did not have time for much dialogue of a more personal kind. Each of the continental reports, however, concluded with a very provocative section on signs of hope and of new life. Groups cited a growing sense of communion among congregations and between laypersons and religious, of the importance of personal relationships, of commitment, of community and of belonging, of greater interiority along with a lessened grip of institutionalism. Europeans made the arresting statement that secularization, despite its negative consequences, is also "causing us to love the world as it is with hope." Asians remarked that our times are ripe with opportunity: "As Asians in Asia, we have our own experience of God. By this, perhaps, we can contribute to the vitality, of religious life. It is time for rebirthing our institutes with our Asian Revie~ for Religious identity." Africans saw themselves as bringing to religious life the gifts of a deep sense of God and of the family which leads to sharing and attentiveness to one another. One young African, during the all-too-brief open microphone time in a plenary session, good-naturedly scolded his European elders for perceiving death for religious life in the future, whereas their "children" from other parts of the world, hoisted on the shoulders of their European parents, can see farther ahead to future life! North Americans ventured the opinion that aging could be looked upon as "saging," an opportunity to draw new life from the wisdom of the elderly. Diminishment, they thought, provides "a freedom to reshape religious life." Participants barely had the continental group reports in hand before moving on to topical discussions in groups ranging in size from six to over a hundred, depending on people's interests: ¯ Justice, peace, and the suffering of humanity. ¯ Inculturation--the embodiment of consecrated life in a culturally pluralistic world. ¯ Interreligious dialogue. ¯ The arts: imaging and expressing a new song. ¯ Mass media and the communication of values. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: solidarity in a world of exclusion. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: celibacy and life-giving relationships. ¯ Tilling the soil of Sacred Scripture. ¯ Thirst for God and the search for meaning. ¯ Ongoing formation for personal conversion and corporate transformation. ¯ Congregational culture. ¯ Community as mission. ¯ Partnership with the laity. ¯ Leadership and authority. ¯ The ecclesial dimensions of consecrated life. Although the time allocated for these discussions was brief, each topic was based on material in the working paper 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 24:0 distributed well in advance of the meeting. Participants came prepared and were assigned their first choice among the three topics in which they had indicated interest before coming. As a result, they shared many thoughtful insights with one another; a summary appears in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity (pp. 237-241). Those of us present for the congress received the somewhat longer reports composed by group reporters on site. Some Conclusions For me, the challenge posed by the congress was at the time and remains today one of assimilation and communication. The rich papers presented by speakers, along with participants' voices as reflected in reports by the continental and topical groups, left our table of Listeners with the nearly impossible task of assimilating content and shaping it into a synthesis at the final session. Our summary, "What the Spirit Says Today to Consecrated Life," compressed into an hour's oral delivery the reflection and discernment that had absorbed us during the entire congress. Rather than repeat that synthesis (see PCPH, pp. 243- 255), I want to share what stand out for me a year later as the two most significant messages conveyed by this unique gathering. The first is that the Spirit is at work among us today, regardless of how old or young we are as religious, no matter how old or young our congregations, and no matter whether we come from north, south, east, or west. The second is that a contemplative approach is required of the members of our congregations if we are to discern what the Spirit is saying to us at this critical moment of our history, some forty years since Vatican Council II invited religious to renew their lives in the light of the gospel, their foundational charisms, and the signs of the times. Review for Religious The Spirit calls us to revive the enchantment, the passion, we had when we first responded, as congregations and as individuals, to Jesus' call to love God and our neighbor with all our heart. The Spirit calls us to personal and institutional renewal, to inculturation and to interreligious dialogue. The Spirit calls us to an inclusive attitude toward the laity, .and this, in turn, calls for new structures and a new language expressive of the inner reality Of our consecrated life. The Spirit calls us to esteem personal relations over structure, and to develop ourselves as religious capable of loving human relationships. We are called by Jesus to be passionate and to exercise ",~ and alfenation,of any kind. compassion toward others, particularly toward all who suffer the indignities of poverty, discrimination, and alienation of any kind. The congress experience brought home to me anew that we are living through, a period of vast and deep change in consecrated life--a sort of gestation period heavy with the promise of new birth. The seeds have been planted in good ground and are being warmed and watered by the life-bearing winds of the Spirit. We have only to tend the garden and pay attention with a discerning eye to the sprouts of new life lest we uproot them as noxious weeds.before they have a chance to flower and bear fruit. 6Y.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress Our congregations are being called to collaborate with the Spirit in bringing to birth the consecrated life of the future. It was apparent at the congress---its participants a cross section of more than six hundred congregations of women and men from all over the world--that the vision, the hopes, and the sense of urgency are widely shared. The modes of discernment and dialogue will necessarily differ from country to country, depending on culture and opportunity, but the desire for intra- and inter-congregational reflection and collaboration is present among religious in every continent. As a practical matter, I would urge congregations to take advantage of their forthcoming chapters to follow up on major themes explored at the congress. Chapters are periodically convened by every congregation; agendas and processes can readily be shaped to facilitate the kind of individual and corporate reflection we need and desire. Although successful use of this option is not without difficulties, it would seem to offer .the best chance for congregations to address the congress message in a timely way, and to seek the implications of that message for themselves. Clearly there are a few obstacles to surmount if we are to facilitate contemplative chapters that make good use of the theological and sociological perspectives offered at the congress. International congregations, whose members often constitute a microcosm of the multicultural 2004 gathering in Rome, in many cases still experience subtle Western attitudes that prevent the kind of dialogue modeled by the congress. Smaller local congregations may need to push beyond parochial concerns to help members achieve a broader vision and seek greater goals. But all must beware of a tendency toward activism, the preoccupation with doing rather than being that marks our contemporary world. Review for Religious Whether we come from large or small congregations, from apostolic, monastic, or contemplative "families" of religious; whether we can trace our history back for centuries or only a few years; and whether we are Americans, Europeans, Asians, Africans, or Oceanians, we are all called by the Spirit to use the congress and our own experience as a springboard to dive into the deep pool of Holy Mystery in which we religious live and move and have our being. It is for us at this crucial point in our history to delve deeper, to listen, to reflect, to dialogue, and to discern the spiritual realities of the life and mission we share as religious, to ask ourselves how we need to be if we are to do the works of persons passionate for Christ and passionate for humanity. Suggested Reading Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005. Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. As I/we read the responses from the different continental groups regarding the future of religious life, which response gave me/us new insight and which response would I/we want to discuss further? 2. How can we take advantage of the "aging" of religious life members in our country to draw upon their wisdom ("saging') for our apostolic life and direction? 3. What practical steps do I/we need to take in order to adopt a more contemplative approach to listen to and follow the movements of the Spirit within our religious life context? 6Y.3 2006 RACHEL M. HARRINGTON A New Way of Meeting 244 Dissatisfaction with the timeworn chapter for-mula for the meetings of our congregation, the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, as an international congregation of pontifical right resulted in a mandate from the 2002 chapter for us, the newly elected congre-gational leadership team, to explore new ways of assem-bling that took account of our multicultural identity. The dissatisfaction focused on the number and variety of pro-posals submitted for chapter discussion, the abundance of paper generated before, during, and after each chapter, and the dominance of the Western cultural model for meeting and discussion. Canon law offers little help. In accordance with the principle of subsidiarity, it provides for each institute the right to establish its own legislation for chapters pro-vided this falls within certain norms. Our constitutions, approved in 1989, contain several articles and directives for conducting chapters, no more restrictive, we think, Rachel M. Harrington SNDdeN is a member of the generalate lead-ership team of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. Their address is Via Raffaello Sardiello, 20; 00165 Roma, Italy. Review for Religio~s than many, and certainly tried and tested and not lightly to be discarded. One suggestion, superficially attractive, was to separate the chapter of affairs from the chapter of elections. Our general treasurer pointed out a major flaw in this proposal: chapters are expensive meetings. So we continued to talk and dream. Our directives, or rather the traditional interpretation of them, provide for a "midchapter" meeting,, an inter-national gathering at the midpoint between chapters. Beyond prescribifig that at this time the congregational leadership and the provinces evaluate their implemen-tation of the constitutions, there are no further direc-tives. So, with some trepidation, we determined on this midchapter meeting as our chance to experiment. We decided to offer two sisters from each province the opportunity to experience a different type of gathering. We hoped to stimulate creative thinking to improve the next chapter in 2008. We began in May 2003 by writing a letter to each sister in the congregation, inviting her to respond to three questions. We based the questions on one of the constitutions from the section on chas.tity: Our celibacy, deepened and enriched by God's love and that of our sisters, bears fruit in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. It enables us to be free to go wherever we may be called in the ser-vice of God's kingdom of justice, peacei and love. We asked each sister how she felt that this constitu-tion had been realized in her life and what helps or hin-drances our community had ,given her in reaching "beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation." We encouraged sisters to respond alone or after group dis-cussion. To avoid burdening province leadership, we sug-gested that all responses be posted uncollated to the congregational leadership in Rome. We assembled an 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting We wondered how many sisters would take, the troublet~, respond to our lettel~/ and we were overwhelmed by the number Who dld).~ 246 international planning group to help us review the responses. Membership of such groups is often pre-dictable, so we made a point of inviting sisters without previous experience of working on international groups, and, instead of looking for organizational skills, we looked rather for a different order of talents. To our delight, all of the sisters whom we approached accepted our invitation. In October 2004 we met in Rome: an economist teaching in a Kenyan university, a patristic theologian from a British univer-sity, a psychologist from Peru, a theolo-gian from Congo, an artist-liturgist from Britain, a photogra-pher with poetic writ-ing skills from the United States, and a musical-artist-liturgist from Zimbabwe. On our own team we had two cultural anthropologists, from the U.S.A. and Congo, a biblical theologian from the U.S.A., an educationist from the U.S.A., and a canon lawyer from Britain. We needed to give very little thought to the selection of facilitators; we knew whom we wanted. Sister Gabrielle Stuart RSM and Sister Mary Harrington SUSC had run facilitation workshops for leadership in Rome, and we had benefited from their expertise. That they were free and willing to be with us in this experiment was a huge encouragement.1 Traditionally our chapters are held in the U.S.A. or Europe and our midchapters in Africa or Latin America. In 1998 the midchapter took place in Peru, and so we Review for Religious selected Kenya for 31 July to August 2005. We invited a British sister serving there to be the on-site coordina-tor and to attend the Rome planning meeting. We wondered how many sisters would take the trou-ble to respond to our letter, and we were overwhelmed by the number who did, almost half the congregation. Considering the many who were too old or sick, this was way beyond our expectations. We spent the first day of the meeting reading these responses, with a checHist of questions: How do I feel? What do I think? What sur-prised me? What delighted me? What became clearer? What shocked me? What insights did I gain? What ques-tions remain? Reading the responses moved us all deeply. Our sis-ters had responded sincerely, from the depths of their experiences as celibate women working for the poor in a variety of situations. Most acknowledged a deepening of their understanding of the call to religious life as they took risks and endured suffering, separations, rejections, and misunderstanding. All expressed gratitude for the years spent in the congregation and for the richness of life offered by membership in an international group. We compiled our reactions and, after much discus-sion guided by the facilitators, agreed upon a goal for the midchapter meeting: to enable participants to explore, express, celebrate, and live the goodness of God in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. Our foundress, St. Julie Billiart, bequeathed to us the charism of striving to discover and become the very goodness of God in the world, and, as we read the responses of our sisters, we realized how much this was integrated into their lives. A statement made about Julie by a contemporary cardinal in Belgium, "A spark from out the heart of Christ fell upon the heart of a woman who knew how to believe and how to love," somehow 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting 248!I captivated our thoughts as we read, and we decided to use "Sparks from the Heart of Christ" as the theme of the midchapter meeting. With the facilitators' help, we sorted ourselves into four groups: theologians, social scientists, the "fire department" (the liturgists), and the planners. We drew up questions which, as a result of our reading, we felt needed to be answered, and then we allocated tasks to each group. Everyone with a relevarit area of expertise agreed to present a paper in Nairobi on that topic to stimulate discussion. From April 2003 we spent some time at leadership meetings--held once a year on the Continent and twice a year in the U.S.A.--talking about our hopes for the meeting and encouraging the provincial leaders to choose as representatives one sister from each province who had no previous international experience and was willing to "go with the process." We also wanted one member of each leadership team to attend, so that any implementa-tion or follow-up would proceed smoothly. Although we never used the word '~delegate," and although we stressed repeatedly that this was not a chapter and not a deci-sion- making meeting, not everyone heard this. Shortly after our October 2004 planning meeting, the congress "Passioh for Christ, Passion for Humanity" took place in Rome within walking distance of our gen-eralate. As well as welcoming many of the participants to our home, we were able to access the papers on the Internet in four languages and encouraged our sisters to do likewise. Unfortunately, Internet access across the globe varies considerably, and so not all were able to take advantage of this resource. Attempting to compen-sate for this, we excerpted a couple of passages from the working paper and suggested that sisters meet in groups to discuss how they experienced the charism of our con- Review for Religious gregation in the light of their reflections on these pas-sages. We encouraged those chosen as representatives to bring the fruits of these discussions to the meeting in Nairobi. We hoped that this task would keep interest alive in the proposed meeting and enable the represen-tatives to feel that they were coming prepared. The planning group assembled in Nairobi with the facilitators on 30 July 2005, the day before the others were due to arrive. By this time we had added our gen-eral secretary and the director of our mission office to the group. We held the meeting in the Dimesse Sisters' Centre in Karen-Nairobi. Contrary to our hopes, we were unable to move in until after noon on the day we had hoped to begin. One of our biggest problems, shared by all interna-tional congregations, is that of language. We had arranged local translators for . French and Spanish, but Flemish, Italian, Portuguese, and Japanese are more difficult to provide for, especially as only relatively few sisters speak only these lan-guages. People skilled in simul-taneous translation are expensive, and we also need others who can provide necessary written trans-lations fairly rapidly. We are con-stantly learning in this area and are extremely grateful to those sisters who, proficient in two languages, generously help in translating. We mar-vel at the patient endurance of those who spend days on end listening through earphones. In social situations, as well as during the sessions, many struggled heroically to communicate across the language barriers using gestures and the few words they could manage. We provided play- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ ~l New ~Va~ of Meeting ing cards, jigsaw puzzles, and games without words to encourage this interaction. We had invited sisters from Japan, Nigeria, the U.S.A., and Congo to help with translation and secre-tarial tasks, so altogether we numbered sixty. Every day a brief account of the meeting, composed by one of these, was sent out on our congregational Intranet in English, French, and Spanish. Access to computers was limited, but whenever they could most participants sent home enthusiastic accounts of their experiences. As we began the meeting, each province brought some "report" on their reflections about our charism; several of these were poetic or beautifully presented in visual form. During our sixteen days together we had an enormous variety of experiences, most of which involved sharing our thoughts and feelings about specific ques-tions with a sister from another culture. The facilitators guided us into these moments, which were often deep and moving, with rituals involving simple gestures, gen-tle dances, and repetitive chants celebrated around ever-changing focal points in the meeting room. As the days went on, art work created in the course of the meeting was displayed on the walls of our meeting room--pic-tures, words, designs, charts--all reflecting our moods, our perceptions of our province realities, problems we faced, questions that we raised. Over the course of the two weeks, one of our cul-tural anthropologists gave us an illuminating presentation on "unpacking culture"; the other spoke of how African myths speak of God's goodness. The theologians pre-sented talks on the goodness of God from their varied perspectives, as revealed in the Bible, in African forma-tion programs, in living religious life in Congo, and as expressed in community life in the 4th-century church. The psychologist talked on "Chastity: A Love Which Review for Religious Goes beyond the Limits." All were translated later and made available to the whole congregation. Our economist assembled three university lecturers who made brief presentations on Kenya's progress (or lack of it) towards the United Nations' millennium devel-opment goals in regard to health, education, and the environment. A fourth panelist, representing an organi-zation that works with nongovernmental organizations, spoke about the frustrations he faces in his work, where the ideal partnership between aid organizations and gov-ernments falls far short of being realized. The four stayed on for the whole morning to lead group discussions and answer questions. The sisters from each province also spoke about their ministries and tried to communicate the realities of their daily lives. Most moving were the testimonies from the war-torn Democratic Republic of Congo and from Zimbabwe. When we had afternoons off, those who wished were taken in small groups to visit various pro-jects in housing and employment, schools (including the famous Starehe boys' school and its newborn sister school for girls), and the homes of people from Saint Mary and Joseph's, the parish where some of our sisters live and work. Other optional outings were to a safari park or to see Karen Blixen's (Isak Dinesen's) home, famous from the film Out of Africa. Two of the most memorable excursions were for Mass. On the first Sunday we went to Saint Mary and Joseph's, where we were welcomed in truly memorable fashion by the parish priest and by the "mother of the parish," who told us we were all their daughters. The dancing was led by small girls all attired in snowy white tee shirts advertising U.S. baseball teams. The choir was amazing and untiring, and the packed church sang along and swayed and clapped throughout the three-hour cel- 6Y.3 2006 Harrington * A New Way of Meeting ebration. The ladies of the parish had prepared dinner, so we moved the benches around to form tables and sat down to a lavish feast of beef stew, rice, and beans. On the second occasion we were hostesses to those who came to celebrate with us the opening of our novi-tiate in Langata, Nairobi, our fourth in Africa, and a real benchmark in the history of the province. We sat outside under awnings during the Mass celebrated by the bishop; afterwards the house was blessed and a flame tree planted. The meal, prepared outside in huge pots over open fires, was enjoyed by all. In the last days of our meetings, we focused on ques-tions that had arisen during our sharings, and we brain-stormed about how to prepare for the next chapter. During the closing In the. last~ days,(~our'tneet.in~s;~rz-~ we focused on"questio~.~ ~ . h.'afl:~[ ["~ arisen duringour shariftgs, ' and we brainstormed about how, to prepare for the°ne~.t:chapt~e~(.i~ to women after any meeting. We reverently and ceremoniously placed these artifacts on the floor around the centerpiece a mock fire, built around a candle, with sparkles scattered about. Then we were all invited to collect a prayer card and some sparkles and to light a candle from the cen-tral flame. To do this we had to walk toward the center and then away, through the spread-out paintings, pic-tures, charts, designs, and pre.sentations~a sort of sym-bolic acceptance of all that had taken place and been ritual we thanked all planners and participants. We removed the vari-ous artifacts we had displayed on the walls, per-forming the clear-ing- up ritual that is traditionally left Review for Religious shared over the previous two weeks and a commitment to carry the experience home. At the beginning of the meeting we had been reminded that in this meeting no decisions would be taken: we were there to experience what it means to belong to an international, multicultural, multilingual congregation. Nonetheless, some few in their evalua-tions expressed wonderings about the apparent lack of an agenda. We knew this was a risk. There was general dissatisfaction with the three celebrations of Mass which we had together during the meeting days--not the Sundays. Bringing in clergy, out of touch with what we were experiencing together, was felt to be artificial and awkward. Communion services led by ourselves might have proved more meaningful. Some found the days long and tiring. Most wrote that this had been a life-changing experience, creating bonds across cultures and languages, inspiring hope, and providing memories to last a life-time. The deep exchanges about cultural differences gave all of us new perspectives. Throughout we had been dependent on our two facil-itators, whose style pleased all but three of those pre-sent. Every day began with a review of the purpose of the meeting, of our hopes and concerns, and of the val-ues and behaviors we intended to live by during the meeting. After the morning ritual, there was a report on the questions raised, the previous day. At day's end we gathered in our "home groups" (the same multicultural group for the entire meeting), shared our day's experi-ences, and arrived at issues or questions for the coordi-nating committee to resolve. This committee, five members of the original planning group, met with the facilitators each day for forty-five minutes after the evening ritual, discussed the matters arising from the home groups, and planned the next day. When we eval- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting uated our work, we realized thatthere were things we could have done differently and better. We had learned from our experience and from the feedback---another purpose of the meeting realized. The big anxiety of all present was how to communi-cate the fruits of the meeting to the sisters at home. We had papers and photographs, but these were two-dimen-sional, having meaning mainly for the participants. Carrying home fragile "sparks from the heart of Christ" challenges each of us to a new way of being, of believing, and of loving so that the sparks will ignite others and kindle new flames to spread the awareness of God's good-ness in all the events and circumstances of our lives. Note ' They can be contacted at GLOIR; 27 Catherine Street; Newry, Co. Down; BT35 6JG, Northern Ireland. E-mail: gloirinstitute@btopenworld.com Glass It's as if Benedict's single ray of light is scattered across the tables like loose jewels or a broken mirror. We sweep and pick through trays of glass, sharp bits of orange and yellow with a blue that's almost black until I hold it to the light, and I am full of a temporary completeness. Even the thunder seems gentle. Alicia Kleiman OSB Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Aspirations (aspiratory prayer) were a treasure in' European Christianity in the late Middle Ages and one of the great legacies of the Touraine Reform in 17th-century France. This reform took place in "les Grands Carmes," the popu-lar name in France for the Carmelites of the Ancient Observance (OCarm). The style of prayer that goes by the name of aspirative or aspiratory prayer, or simply aspiration, is almost unknown in contemporary spirituality. The pre-sent article is a move to fill this lacuna and to suggest how the prayer of aspirations can con-tribute to the contemplative renewal of our times. I will first give an overview of the prayer in tradition and highlight its three outstanding proponents: the 13th-century Carthusian Hugh of Balma, the Franciscan Henry Herp (+1477), and the Carmelite John of St. Samson (1571- Ernest E. Larkin OCarm last wrote in our 64.4 issue (2005). His address remains St. Agnes Catholic Church; 1954 North 24th Street; Phoenix, Arizona 85008. 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 1636). Finally I shall make some suggestions on how to revive the practice. What Is Aspiratory Prayer? Aspiratory prayer is a warm, human approach to God that is inexorably affective. It proceeds by way of fer-vent desires of the heart. It was considered a shortcut, a direct route, to intimacy and oneness with God. Its struc-ture is simple: frequent and intense desires breathed out to God. It has only one goal, union with God, so it ceases to have a role when mystical union is achieved. Aspirations are not the same as ejaculations, though they are like each other. E aculatory prayer.describes any to this prayer? ,.:Those and all brief prayers sent like darts to heaven for help, thanksgiving, adora-tion, or any other good motive. "My Jesus, mercy" is an ejaculation. Aspira-tions are only and always passionate desires or fer-vent acts of love of God. They are expressed in words or sighs or silence. "My God, I love you" is an aspiration. To aspire means to breathe out, with the con-notation of breathing hard after something. In aspira-tory prayer one breathes out heartfelt desires for God. It is yearning for God, like gasping for God. Aspiratory prayer is simple and focused, though in the beginning it may cover a wide sweep of emotions and feelings. Practice simplifies and unifies the faculties to give them a single thrust, much as the prayer of sim-plicity consolidates the multiple affections of affective prayer into a single attitude of loving presence. Aspiratory prayer sets the heart on one goal, divine Review for Reli~io~ union, and is a positive step in that direction. Not every-body can use it. It is not for beginners, but for those who have come to know God and themselves through Bible reading, reflection, and loving conversations with God. When a person has put her house in order and has come to love God in truth, she is ready for this prayer. For those who love God, it will become as natural as breathing. Catholic teachers in the past were sticklers in assign-ing different prayer forms to different stages of growth. The prayer of beginners was discursive meditation and affective prayer, that is, first much thinking and ~hen many affections. The next stage was contemplative, and it featured forms like simply looking at the tabernacle as in the Cur6 d'Ars' "I look at him and he looks at me," or today's resting in God in centering prayer, or saying the mantra as in Christian Meditation. Today we prob-ably pay less attention to the degrees of prayer, though we still honor them. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation have democratized contemplative prayer. Certainly some knowledge and love of the Lord is pre-supposed for contemplative prayer, but a little knowl-edge and love go a long way. Those who are comfortable with centering prayer and Christian Meditation will be at home with aspirations. Who, then, are called, to this prayer? Those who are fervent and serious about their relationship with God and have a great desire for intimacy with God. They are look-ing for the "more." The classical teaching placed the prayer in the illuminative way as part of the contempla-tive life. Two categories are involved here, and both are second stages: the illuminative comes between the purga-tive and the unitive way, and the contemplative life between the active and the mystical life. The three divi-sions correspond to beginners, the proficient, and the 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer perfect. Active life has to do with external behavior, con-templative with inner prayer, and the mystical life with high sanctity. The purgative way is concerned with con-version and purification, the illuminative way with enlightenment, and the unitive with union with God. The three ways and their content are criticized today for being too dependent on Neoplatonic philosophy, the system that canonized the immaterial and denigrated the bodily.' Aspirative prayer rises above this controversy and in fact is a corrective against exaggerated spiritual-ism and minimizing the physical and bodily in the spir-itual life. Aspirations welcome and embrace the emotional and the sensible; these human qualities lead to the highest realms of the spirit. They move the experi-ence of God away from the intellectual and into the realm of affection and love.2 Aspiratory prayer comes out of the same tradition as centering prayer and Christian Meditation. The latter two are contemporary constructions from that contem-plative tradition, a development that aspiratory prayer has yet to find. But all three systems appeal to the same sources, the same authors, and even the same texts for their grounding and justification.3 This fact and their constant location in the middle stage of spiritual devel-opment argue to their commonality. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation seek silent presence and quiet resting in God. At the same time they are active prayer, rightly called meditation of a nondiscursive or contemplative type. They are not clas-sical contemplation in the sense of infused prayer, but are products of human effort and ordinary grace. Aspiratory prayer is obviously active in the same sense. It uses the language of intense, passionate love and expresses the yearning of the heart and delights to rest in the Lord. Review for Religious Aspiratory prayer is more than loving conversation with God. It expresses a strong act of the will that desires to experience God. So it is more than a t&e-a-t&e, even in the loving language of affective colloquy. The differ-ence is intensity. Affective prayer engages the feelings but in a diffuse way, whereas a strong will and urgent longings for intimacy dominate aspiratory prayer. Aspirations fit nicely into the perspectives and prac-tice of "love mysticism," which is a form of relating to God in spousal love. The language of spousal love is very human, amorous, and passionate. Its biblical source is the Song of Songs or St. John's Gospel, and it is a fre-quent feature in medieval women mystics and also in writers like St. Bernard or St. John of the Cross. Janet K. Ruffing has written a guide for the spiritual direction of those called to this way. She gives many examples of its language, one of which is the following conversation in Mechthild of Magdeburg, who says to God: "God, you are my lover, / my longing, / my flowing stream, / my sun, / and I am your reflection." And God replies: "It is my nature that makes me love you often, / for I am love itself. / It is my longing that makes me love you intensely, / for I yearn to be loved from the heart. / It is my eter-nity that makes me love you long, / for I have no end.''4 Aspirative prayer is not limited to spousal love. It is at home with a nonspousal love of God, which Janet Ruffing calls simply apophatic. The mysticism of the more matter-of-fact Cloud of Unknowing features whole-hearted love, often without obvious passion. In this lat-ter case the love is sublimated into disinterested love in a style of relationship that is reserved and controlled. Mystics in this pattern will practice their own brand of aspirations. Aspiratory prayer is thus a technical term, but it is not "one size fits all." Its normal form is sensible-spiri- 6~ .3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratorg/Prayer 260[ tual love. For Henry Herp only this love qualifies as aspi-ration. For him its follow-up, which is pure spiritual love, is not aspiration, but unitive love. John of St. Samson, however, treats pure spiritual love as a form of aspiration, and for him this higher aspiration leads one into the furnace of God's love in transforming union. For both authors the will is the driving force for aspira-tions and for unitive love. In sensible-spiritual love the sensibility is the carrier, but the momentum comes from the will, which makes the love truly spiritual. Do not think that the practitioner lives on a perpet-ual high. The expression Of loving desires for God con-tinues in down days and dryness as much as in times of sweetness and sensible consolation. The feeling element is still there. It must be genuine, not faked or pretended or forced. Th~r~se of Lisieux is a perfect example of the expression of passionate desires of love for God in the darkest moments of life.5 There are degrees of the practice corresponding to the person's habitual love of God and the grace of the moment. John of St. Samson sees it as leading directly into a mystical expression, in which the Holy Spirit breathes out enflamed desires for God. His conditions for practicing this prayer are demanding. Persons who take up the practice must be mortified, humble, and self-effac-ing as well as robust in health. In his view aspirations go beyond the enthusiasm of a newly baptized Pentecostal or charismatic and belong to persons advanced in the love of God and on fire for the summit. The History and Theology of Aspiratory Prayer Aspiratory prayer flourished in the late Middle Ages in northern Europe, especially the Rhineland and France, from the 13th to the 17th century. At the time of the Touraine Reform, the practice was common in popular Review for Religious religious culture. Aspirative prayer appealed to the archi-tects of Touraine because they saw the practice as dove-tailing with their view of the goal of the Carmelite order, which was to live continuously in the loving presence of God.6 Intimations of aspiratory prayer are found in the New Testament, in St. Augustine and John Cassian, who were contemporaries, in St. Benedict and Guigo II, and in other early authors. The first to give aspirative prayer a central place in the spiritual life was Hugh of Balma, whose Tbeologia Mystica exerted wide influence, partly because it was thought to be the work of St. Bonaventure. Hugh of Balina taught the way of the heart, and aspira-tory prayer was its chief expression. First one must know one's weak self and the goodness of God, since anyone filled with self is unable to yearn for God. This knowl-edge prepares one to rise up to God in "anagogic con-templation." Anagogic contemplation means moving from crea-ture to Creator, from the text of Scripture to the living God, enflamed with desire and love. Such is aspiratory prayer. The love is both natural-spiritual and purely spir-itual, and God is the direct object. The love increases with the simplification and unification of the faculties until ultimately there is mystical union with the Trinity in the high point of the soul called the apex mentis. Henry Herp and John of St. Samson will pick up on these per-spectives and expand them with the help of Jan van Ruusbroec's theology (1293-1381). Hugh had many imitators, especially among the Carthusians, who promoted and developed this teach-ing so effectively that Everard Mercurian, an early gen-eral of the Jesuits, warned the Society about "the Carthusian method of prayer" for fear that its popular-ity would marginalize Ignatian prayer in Spain.7 The 6Y.3 2006 Larkin * Aspiratory Prayer 14th-century anonymous English text The Cloud of Unknowing is likely a Carthusian document, both because it can easily be interpreted as a full exposition of aspira-tory prayer and because its anonymous author may well be .a Carthusian.8 A number of familiar quotations from the book are obviously formulas of aspiratory prayer. Henry Herp OFM (+1447) Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis of the whole spiritual journey around the topic of aspirative prayer. His map is the structure of the soul as delineated by the great Flemish mystical writer Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis'of the~ around the topici of ~aspirativ~ prayer. : ~ o o Jan van Ruusbroec. The soul is three concentric circles, each of them representing a different level of human activity. Herp offers a detailed plan for moving through the outer two levels and arriving at the inner circle of highest union with the Holy Trinity. He lays down instructions for each of the phases of the journey, but his chief contri-bution is to show how aspirative prayer moves one through the middle circle. Ruusbroec calls the three circles "spheres" or "uni-ties," whereas Herp names them mansions or dwelling places like Teresa of Avila. The first is the region of the senses, the second that of the spirit, and the third the "fond" or ground, the dwelling place of the Holy Trinity. One must traverse each level to get to the center, and the way is introversion, a concept that goes back to St. Augustine. Herp calls it "ascension." Persons "ascend," that is, they are lifted up by a sweeping action that carries them through the given circle and toward Review for Religious the center; the searcher for God leaves behind the lesser level or part of it in favor of the higher one. This process of introversion means making the powers on each level converge toward the center. The activity of each level is collapsed into the next step. In this imagery the outer circle of exterior behavior is introverted into the mid-dle circle, and in the middle the lower faculties of the irascible and concupiscible appetites, and of reason and free will, are introverted into the spiritual faculties of intellect, memory, and will. These latter will finish the task and bring the soul into mystical union in the center. The introversion or ascension starts with the outer or exterior circle, which represents the active life. The means set down by Herp for this first introversion are "truth and compassion." Truth means understanding the goodness of God and the bankruptcy of the human, and compas-sion is appreciating God's love and attractiveness. The middle level is the field for aspiratory prayer and unitive love. Aspirations address the "interior infe-rior powers," especially the concupiscible appetite, which in Herp's view has a spiritual quality about it. Unitive love is exercised by the spiritual faculties. Understanding guides the process: hence the importance of regular med-itation and of the use of prepared ejaculations that recall the supreme attraction of God and serve to inflame the soul with love. The awakened will moves the sensory faculties to yearn for God, progressively spiritualizing the person for the work of unitive love, For Herp, uni-tive love takes over the task begun in the lower interior faculties. The acts of pure, unitive love finish the task of the introversion of the spirit level and open the way to the center. In the center the love is fruitive love. The contemplative way is left behind, and the soul now lives the "super-essential life" of oneness with the Trinity, a union that is not ontological but psychological. ¯ ,263 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer Herp offers some good pastoral advice. The stages are to be addressed in order and none can be skipped. Basic conversion is presupposed for undertaking aspira-tory prayer, and that means an adult knowledge of God and one's self and the acquisition of the moral virtues. Aspiratory prayer begins with rote expressions of love and fervor. According to Herp, these feelings crescendo into what he calls an explosion of love, which has its own danger of entrapping the person in the delightful, sen-sible sweetness. The love is gradually purified and becomes the unitive love that will lead the soul into the center. Unitive love too undergoes its own purifications, and the follow-up experiences may be as dark and dry as the initial entry was exalted. The challenge at this point, as at every point in the spiritual life, is marginal-izing the self, that is, letting go of everything that is not God. The holy soul practicing spiritual love will con-tinue to work at the total gift of self to God, and its tasks are listed by Herp as self-offering, searching for God's will, letting God's love destroy all defects, and being united with God. John of St. Samson (1571-1636) John of St. Samson is an immensely important figure in the Carmel of the Ancient Observance. He was a mys-tic of profound experience, and, in spite of the blindness that afflicted him from the age of three, he was well edu-cated and well read, keeping in touch with currents of spirituality in the very rich 17th century. He has been called the French John of the Cross and is highly esteemed by religious historians like Henri Bremond and Louis Cognet. John of St. Samson lived a century and a half after Herp, but Herp's work was well known to him in the numerous Latin and French translations and in the Review for Religious plethora of spiritual writings that popularized aspiratory prayer. John of St. Samson became expert in the teach-ing of this way, building on Herp but adding his own points of view. There had been a lot of writing, but lit-tle development since Herp. After a careful comparison of the two authors, Canisius Janssen concludes that John's doctrine is Herp in a new packaging. "Certain things have been left out," he writes, "others developed; in short the whole has acquired a new face.''9 John belongs to the same Dutch school of mys-ticism as Herp, both of them appropriating the worldview of Ruusbroec. We come from God as created images in the Uncreated Word, and our life goal is to return to our place in the Word in full consciousness of our unity in God. The goal is put I ," bY engaging oi r feetings t " : and iemo.tions. I as well as'our spiriL rather abstractly as "the state of consummation of the subject in the Object" in a "union without difference or distinction." Such is the transforming union, in which the soul is caught up in the fire of the divine life. The way to the goal is introversion according to the same divisions as in Henry Herp, but with the adaptations in nomenclature. John is particularly eloquent is explaining how spir-itual love guides the whole process of introversion once aspirations become the way. Spiritual love is at the heart of sensible-spiritual aspirations, and it constitutes the spiritual aspirations that lead one into the center itself. Aspirations have the genius of putting our full humanity to work by engaging our feelings and emotions as well as 6~.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 266 our spirit. Sensible love is the starter, and it houses the spiritual love in sensible-spiritual aspirations. When the aspirations become "more vigorous, more on fire, and more detached from sense," they are pure spiritual love. This spiritual love, with or without a sensible compo-nent, is the engine that drives the introversion process into the furnace that is God. Aspiration thus has a mystical quality in John, as is clear from the following quotation: Aspiration is not only an affectionate colloquy. ; that is what aspiration is born of and comes forth from. Aspiration, then, is an outpouring of the whole heart and spirit on fire with love. By it the soul quickly tran-scends itself and all of creation, becoming intimately united with God in the intensity of its loving expres-sion. Expressing itself quintessentially in this way, the soul transcends all tender, sensible, cerebral, and com-prehensible love, reaching by the vehemence of God's spirit and its own effort, not just any divine union, but a sudden transformation of its spirit into God. In the abounding and ineffable sweemess of God him-self lovingly embracing one's spirit, it transcends, I say, all familiar and intelligible love. This is the essence of aspiration, in itself, in its cause, and in its effect.1° Heart (that is, the sensibility) and spirit (that is, the loving will) are the framers of aspirations, and heart even-tually recedes in favor of pure spirit. In the beginning there will be multiplicity of thought and feelings, but with growth this richness will give way to ever increas-ing simplicity and a state of pure elevation in God. Intensity is of the essence, since only strong love can break the attachments of the faculties to their natural objects. Frequency is a necessary quality, since the goal is to make aspirations like second nature, as natural as breathing. Humility too is the essential underpinning of all true love. But in all these efforts balance and moder-for Religious ation must prevent any violence or excessive force. John of St. Samson, experienced spiritual director, has good advice on how to begin and how to grow in this beauti-ful practice, and his reflections will help us put our topic in perspective. Who are candidates for this prayer? The prayer is not for everybody. It is not for intellectuals or for shal-low people who live on the surface of things and whose fire burns up quickly like straw. It is for generous souls of strong will who are concerned about their interior life. When to begin? Brother John sees aspirations as a higher form of prayer; hence he is hesitant to promote it indiscriminately. Aware of the dangers of too much emo-tionality as well as its necessary predispositions, he coun-sels against beginning the prayer prematurely. Strain and force must be resisted lest there be physical or psycho-logical harm. It is necessary to guard against a too san-guine assessment of one's love of God. The apostle Peter felt a great love for Jesus that led to presumption and his denial of Jesus in the courtyard. John's basic condition for the practice is a mortified life. He fears the unguarded attraction of the sweetness of this love. So he writes: "To begin this exercise it is absolutely necessary to die to ourselves, to humble ourselves, and to be self-effacing (mepriser)."llJohn is probably thinking of his own novices and their year of novitiate whenhe writes that candi-dates for this prayer should have spent "a good year" in discursive meditation and affective prayer before taking up aspirations. He also warns newcomers that begin-nings will be troublesome, even painful, but practice makes perfect and easy. The process of introversion follows Herp detail for detail. Like Herp, John of St. Samson is lyrical in his descriptions of the outcome of introversion, which is 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer entrance into "the marvelous effects and the spiritual inebriation" of touching the fond or ground of one's being, where the Holy Trinity dwells and the essential union with God takes place. This mystical state is trans-formation in the fire that is God. Aspiratory Prayer in Contemplative Life Today It remains to suggest ways in which this body of teaching can be put into practice in today's contempla-tive setting. A first step, and one that is often presented in the literature, is to connect aspirations with the practice of the presence of God. This means to murmur aspirations frequently during the course of the day to remind one-self of the presence of God and to offer up the present task. This is one application in The Carmelite Directory of the Spiritual Life by John Breninger OCarm and in the works of his student Kilian J. Healy OCarm.~2 A second application is to introduce aspirations into one's daily meditation in whatever form that takes. This will be an affective addition in the nondiscursive medi-tation of Christian Meditation, which features the mantra "Maranatha." The mantra itself could be the vehicle expressing love and desire. Bringing aspiration into cen-tering prayer may be a bit more difficult, since this prayer eschews thinking and emoting. Aspirative prayer may be disruptive of the silence of centering prayer. Perhaps aspirations that are expressed without words and in silence can be a friendly addition and add warmth and fervor to centering prayer. A third way to practice aspirations in one's daily prayer is to structure it much like the two disciplines of contemplative prayer. Periods of aspiratory prayer could be cultivated each day, twenty minutes to a half hour in length, with the whole time given over to aspirations. Review for Religious The aspiration could be a mantra, one phrase repeated over and over again, or it could be spontaneous expres-sions of love and desire. The single mantra may be more compatible with the contemplative nature of the prayer than multiple expressions. Whatever the exact structure aspiratory prayer will take, it will usually be prefabricated and perfunctory in the beginning. But it soon becomes part of one's approach to God in mental prayer. Hopefully it will bring the rich rewards promised by the tradition. Notes ~ Philip Sheldrake, Spirituality and History (New York: Orbis Books, 1995), pp.186-189. 2 Aspiratory prayer is more at home with the language of love than with the Greek categories of contemplation. The literature of the Touraine Reform seems to prefer the evangelical language. One of my esteemed Carmelite teachers and mentors over a lifetime, whose life and studies were dominated by Touraine, frequently showed annoyance at the ambiguities of the vocabulary of contemplation. He preferred to speak of "love" and "loving" as the true measure of prayer rather than dif-ferent forms of "contemplation" or "contemplative." Instead of describ-ing Carmelite life as "contemplative," he preferred the simple word ,prayerful." I interpreted his attitude as a reflection of the viewpoint of Touraine. 3 Canisius Janssen OCarm surveys the sources of aspiratory prayer in the first of two excellent articles on the history and theology of aspira-tory prayer, "Oraison aspirative chez Herp et chez ses pr~d~cesseurs," Carmelus 3 (1956): 19-48. It lists the sources of this prayer in earlier times before its first major exponent, Henry Herp. These sources turn out to be the same texts cited in studies on the roots of centering prayer and Christian Meditation. An example of the latter is Robert W. Ginn's defense against critics, "Centering Prayer: Reviving the Ancient Christian Tradition in Modern Times," a manuscript dated 5/26/05 and circulated by Contemplative Outreach. Janssen's second article is titled "L'oraison aspirative chez Jean de Saint Samson," Carmelus 3 (1956): 185-216. I wish to express my gratitude for these two studies and my indebtedness to them in the formation of the present paper. 4 Spiritual Direction: Beyond the Beginnings (New York: Paulist, 2000), pp. 9-10. Christian mystics from Origen on applied the imagery of the Song of Songs to their relationship with God. St. Th~r~se of Lisieux 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer belongs to this group, and a dominant feature of her prayer was aspira-tion. See Romero de Lima Gouvea OCarm, "Vivre d'amour: la pri~re aspirative chez Th~r~se de l'Enfant Jesus (1873-1897)," Carmelus 47 (2000): 19-40. s See Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, "The Little Way of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux," Review for Religious 59 (September-October 2000): 507-517, at 514-515. 6 The Touraine Reform is not as well known as its counterpart, the Discalced Reform begun by St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross in 16th-century Spain. Touraine began in Brittany in northwest France in the next century. Like the Discalced Reform, it was a radical return to the primitive spirit of the order. Unlike the Discalced Reform, Touraine did not become juridically separated from the old order, but remained in the trunk and spread to every province as the "strictior observantia." See Kilian J. Healy OCarm, Methods of Prayer in the Directory of the Carmelite Reform of Touraine (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1956), pp. 15-2 i. 7Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 27. s This is the conclusion of James Walsh SJ in his introduction to the Classics of Western Spirituality edition of Tbe Cloud of Unknowing (New York: Paulist, 1981). 9 Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 210. ~°Jean de St. Samson, L'dguillon, les flammes, les fl~cbes, et le miroir de l'amour de Dieu, in Oeuvres completes I, edition critique par Hein Blommestijn (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1992), p. 98. Aspiration donc n'est pas seulement un colloque affectueux. ; c'est d'icelui que nait et procede l'aspiration. Aspiration donc est un poussement amoureux, enflamm~ de tout le coeur et l'esprit; par lequel l'ame surpasse pronte-ment elle mesme et toute chose cre~e, s'unissant ~troitement ~ Dieu en la vivacit~ de son expression amoureuse; laquelle ainsi .Essentiellement exprim6e, surpasse tout amour sensible, raisonnable, intellectuel et con-prehensible; arrivant par l'impetuosit6 de l'esprit de Dieu et de son effort, ~ l'union de Dieu, non tellement quellement, mais par une soudaine transformation de l'esprit en Dieu. L'esprit, dis-ie, surpasse en lui m~me tout l'amour connessable et intelligible en l'abondante et ineffable suavitd de Dieu mesme, auquel il est amoureusement englouti. Voila que c'est que l'aspiration Essentielle en elle m~me, sa cause et son effet. (The passage is cited by Janssen in the article on John of St. Samson, p. 195. The translation has been made from the text in the c.ritical edition cited above.) li Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 204. 12 The translation of the Directorium Carmelitanum was made from the Latin by Leo J. Walter OCarm (Chicago: Carmelite Press, 1951). See Review for Religious also Kilian J. Healy, Walking with God (New York: Declan X. McMullen, 1948), reprinted as Awakening Your Soul to the Presence of God (Manchester, New Hampshire: Sophia Institute Press, 1999); see also his chapter in Methods of Prayer, pp. 60-75. Reflection Questions 1. What have I learned about aspiratory prayer as I have read Larkin's article? 2. How might I begin to make aspiratory prayer a daily part of my prayer life? Growing Old The new hearing aid magnifies sounds I've not heard for years and discover I haven't missed. It is not my ears that hear the call to live the soul's desire. I can see tiny print with trifocals but not the messages in everything. I can no longer storm heaven's gates, have lost the need to do so. I am learning to wait gracefully with gratitude for them to open from inside. I am preparing to accept the invitation to eternity. "Growing old" begins with growing. Bonnie Thurston 6~.3 2006 PHILIP SHAN0 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A few words by St. Ignatius Loyola in the Contemplation of the Kingdom of Jesus Christ (§§91-98) have been .understood to refer to "repose days." 1 Ignatius says, "This exercise [the kingdom] should be gone through twice during the day, that is, in the morning on rising and an hour before dinner, or before supper" (§99).2 George E. Ganss SJ describes this day as "a transitional day of relative repose with only two peri-ods prescribed." 3 It is Ignatius's introduction to the rest of the retreat. In a note Louis Puhl SJ says Ignatius's words show that the "kingdom" day is a "day intervening between the First and Second Weeks.''4 In this study we will look at the historical roots of the contemporary notion of repose days in the hope of raising some ques-tions for spiritual directors to discuss in their planning of Twentieth Annotation (thirty-day) versions of the Spiritual Exercises. Philip Shano SJ is novice director and superior at the Jesuit Novitiate of the North American Martyrs; 1035 Summit Avenue; St. Paul, Minnesota 55105. Review for Religious An early historical reference to a repose day comes from the directory of Father Juan Alfonso de Polanco, Ignatius's secretary. Polanco's directory, completed years after Ignatius's death, is generally considered the finest of those which preceded the official Directory in 1599, pre-sumably because of his closeness to Ignatius. Polanco says of this day during the retreat: "When it is time for the exercitant to move on, he should be allowed to catch his breath by giving him the meditation on the kingdom of Christ to be made twice, once in the morning and once in the evening. On that day nothing else should be given. Then, toward evening, he should be given the exercise on the incarnation to be made the next day at daybreak.''5 Note, the retreatant "should be allowed to catch his breath." Similar words are used in later directories--"as he catches his breath for a bit.''6 An anonymous direc-tory dating from the 1580s speaks of the retreatant tak-ing "a rest from his exertions until evening.''7 The directory of Father Gil Gonzfilez Dfivila, from about 1587, says the retreatant "should rest., without being given the usual load of exercises. He may, however, occupy himself with some easy meditation suited to'this time.''8 Finally, the "Official Directory of 1599" brings together some of the earlier directories: "After their gen-eral confession and Communion, those planning to con-tinue the Exercises beyond the First Week should take at least a day's rest from the intense labor of meditation. However, in the meantime they can think over and apply to themselves the parable of the Prodigal Son or some-thing similar. Moreover, they should be given a prepa-ration for their Communion so that they will approach it with reverence, faith, and spiritual relish. They should be given some suitable meditation for this.''9 A present-day handbook for directors of the Spiritual Exercises suggests that, in order to deepen the grace of 65.3 2006 Sbano ¯ "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises the First Week, it is important to have a day of easier presence to the Lord. "The desirable thing is simply to enjoy the day with the Lord, rejoicing in his love and praising him. This time precedes the meditation on the Call of the King, and it is not a break day. Some directors refer to the day that separates any two major sections of the Exercises as a ¯ - break day. Others call it a day of repose. Whatever the words used, this day provides time for transition from one empha-sis to another. It usually includes . some relaxation ~ ~- from the intensity of the retreat . Relaxing after the First Week and preparing to enter the Second Week, the retreatant con-siders the material in one prayer period before taking the break and another at its conclusion.''1° It is clear from early directories that the idea was to give the exercitant a pause and then, later that same day, to resume the usual rhythms of the retreat. Considering that Ignatius is known for attentiveness to every detail of a retreatant's life, it is my assumption that he did not see any problem with having repose days. Considering that the Exercises were generally given to individuals, it is furthermore my assumption that repose days were dis-cerned together by the director and the retreatant with a view to the retreatant's particular needs at that juncture. That is, director and reteatant were not ruled by a cal-endar date set for the convenience of someone or some Repose days becom important intensity relievers during anyone's Twentieth Annotation experie de of the Spiritual Exercises. group. Review for Religious Repose days become important intensity relievers dur-ing anyone's Twentieth Annotation experience of the Spiritual Exercises, an experience where "the exercitant withdraws from all friends and acquaintances, and from all worldly cares" (~20). These days fit into the Exercises as helpful pauses. They are not a move away from the retreat, but an approach to it from a different angle. In his look at the kingdom, William Peters sJ observes a number of stylistic differences (this "strangely structured exercise") from the other exercises. He sees "Ignatius's rather exceptional way of proceeding" here as a part of Ignatius's intention that "the retreatant is given a day of rest, of repose, a day to recuperate after the strenuous efforts of the First Week." 11 Peters's view on the place of the "rather gentle consideration" of the kingdom exercise within the entire retreat downplays the kingdom.12 He sees the "transition" day as revealing Ignatius's real pur-pose, namely, "the relationship between the unfaithful courtier and his king." 13 For Peters, the exercise is a low-key consideration, destined for a day of repose. Most directors of the Spiritual Exercises include one, two, or three repose days in the structure of the retreat. Days of repose are an integral part of the Twentieth Annotation retreat. On these days, being with the Lord interiorly and yet dealing with some ordinary aspects of life has an intensity that affects retreatants. The repose "day" is a period of the retreat (several hours ideally) when one steps back from the four or five periods of prayer that are normally recommended to retreatants. On a day of repose, individuals take a break or a "pause" from their normal retreat activity. When the retreat involves a group, the day might involve a common out-ing, a picnic or something similar. It does not mean that retreatants do not pray that day. The repose day is a break from the intense prayer of the retreat mode--noth- 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 276 ing more. That break from intensity is important. The retreatant may not feel the need for a break, but spiritual directors can perceive from their vantage point that a break is essential for the person, especially if they have prayed with matters of great importance in their lives. In a few cases, individuals make the Spiritual Exercises on their own, meeting daily with their spiritual director. More commonly, individuals make their indi-vidual retreats in a group (at a spirituality center, as a class of Jesuit novices, and so on). Exercitants experi-ence repose days differently when they are alone or in a group. Those making their retreat on their own take a break from the usual prayer pattern, but they may or may not interact with others (such as the host commu-nity, their family, or their religious community). What is crucial is the pause from the intensity of the retreat. On the other hand, those making individual retreats within a group are ipso facto doing more than taking a pause. They are interacting with other retreatants, per-sons who are experiencing diverse spiritual movements. Whether intended or not, such repose days contribute to the good of community-building. Before the repose day, savvy directors ask retreatants not to compare retreat experiences during the repose day, but to restrict their communal conversation to "safe" topics: comical moments they had together, favorite or least favorite meals, the weather, and so forth. Inevitably, however, many make comparisons during that day. "Why is that young man so enthused and gung ho about his experi-ence? Why is that woman so serious and intense about hers? What's wrong with that man who seems so dour and sad? Why does that older man seem so self-assured and so clearly ahead of me?" Regardless of how many times the directors point out that there is no "ahead" or "behind" in the spiritual life (it operates on God's time!), Review for Religious retreatants, especially those in the midst of many interior movements, tend to quantify and measure their spiritual life. Competition in life is not always explicit; often it is beneath the surface. Hardly realizing it, retreatants may ask themselves, "Why am I so blas~ compared with that person's energy and zeal? Why am I so slow compared with that person's apparent pace? Thank God I'm not as disengaged as that person seems to be!" Competition readily occurs whether we recognize it, acknowledge it, give words to it, or not. A common date for a repose day for an entire group of retreatants results from the pace and structure of life today: the calendars of all the spirituality-center workers, all the directors, and all the retreatants and the desire to "make sure it all works out neatly." Whether the directors feel that their retreatants are ready for the repose day or not, the general pattern 6 n n[date or la repqye daY for an entire group of retre tants i r"esuits f orn pace ¯and stru tureoflife today. is to give them all a repose day together and then to work around the movements it causes or interferes with. For Ignatius, the spiritual life was marked by spiritual movements. Whether consolation or desolation or ambi-guity, there is movement. That movement requires dis-cernment. That is why he included so many rules for the discernment of spirits in his text, so many details that seem obsessive to the casual reader. Retreatants in a state of serious prayer are already shaped by movements and stirrings. On a repose day with other retreatants, they will inevitably "breathe in" other persons' movements, regard-less of their director's instructions. They have a way of being almost "allergic" to the movements of others. 65.3 2006 Stsano ¯ "Repose Days" during the I~natian Exercises 278i In twenty years of directing the Spiritual Exercises, I have rarely encountered an aware and prayerful per-son who returned from a repose day without being moved interiorly in some way. How do retreatants and their directors discern these movements? Many retreatants can acknowledge the movements and get back to the business of the retreat. Others get "hooked," whether on consolation or desolation. It may be a momentary enthusiasm or aggravation or, on the other hand, a movement that goes to the very heart of who the person is. A wise director needs to be attentive to this and find ways to deal with it head-on. One wants to ensure that the movement does not interfere with the significant movements that Ignatius is seeking in the discernment of the Second Week. Sometimes it is movement that is important to the per-son's prayer, for instance, an insight into a way of pro-ceeding in relationships. Sometimes it is an unhelpful distraction, taking the person "off course" with a con-versation about church or state politics. Many directors fail to ask enough questions about the repose day and its movements in people. They may say to themselves, "Well, both of us have had a good break and now we can move on to the Second Week," and fail to find any deeper meanings in it. Ignatius would want some probing, as he implies in the Sixth Annotation .when he urges directors to ask about the supposedly peripheral aspects of the day (§6). The day of r.epose may easily have caused the retreatant to go into a tailspin, one that could last for several days. Directors who are unsavvy may assume all kinds of reasons for the discouragement, tepidity, or lethargy. The reasons could be much closer to home. The movement could, indeed, reveal important aspects of how God is working with the person. It could also be a move-ment that distracts the person from the ways of God. Review for Religious Communal interaction is good, but, like any "good," it needs to be discerned. One can easily be deceived by its seeming goodness, but sometimes the movement on a repose day can be advantageous to a retreatant. The woman who was apathetic or tepid up till then may com-pare herself with others and realize that she has to get more serious about the spiritual life and her patterns of prayer. The man who was too intense and racing may real-ize that he needs to be more discreet, deliberate, and paced about his prayer. I refer to these movements as "the grace of the repose day." It can spur a tepid person or slow down a fast-paced person. But there can also be serious disad-vantages. What if the movement is artificial? What if the movement from the repose day interferes with movements that were already going on in a person's prayer? What, then, are some of the things that wise and cun-ning spiritual directors need to be aware of when they direct individuals of a group making a retreat, one that includes repose days that may come along at times that are inconvenient to their retreatants' natural movements? First and most essential is the need for discernment. Directors should not think that they are wasting their time, but that they are helping.the exercitant to appro-priate the repose day's meaning for their prayer. Many directors recommend, or even guide retreatants through, an examen of consciousness to discern exactly what the repose time included: life-giving or life-draining con-versations, feelings of gratitude or impatience, of hope or ennui. Quite often the fifth rule (§3 3 3) of the Rules for the Discernment of Spirits for the Second Week is men-tioned. There Ignatius has the retreatant look at the whole course of events pertaining to a spiritual move-ment-- the beginning, middle, and end. Perhaps the exercitant can be asked to read other Rules for Discernment as well. 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A second thing regarding a scheduled day of repose for the individuals of a group is that some individuals are ready for that repose day and some are not. If all make it, comparisons will be made regardless of directors' urging not to make them. Directors should ask them-selves, "Should this particular retreatant do the repose day or not? Considering where the person is, will a repose day help or hinder the movements he or she is experiencing?" We can easily be caught by "groupthink" and assume that a ~ o. ~ :' .~.'~ person should havea ,question ~ repose day simply " ~ because the calendar lists it for the conve-nient operation of the retreat center. The truly discerning question is whether or not the individual is ready for a breather. For the per-son who takes part in the repose day (or does not), what instructions should be given? I would recommend not giving the retreatant a repose day just because everyone else is doing it. Directors should ask, "Will this retreatant benefit from the repose day?" The Spiritual Exercises are for the retreatant. Retreatants should not have to bend to accommodate themselves to the schedule of the spirituality center or the team of directors. Third is the structure and length of the repose day. The early directories do not give the impression that there Was a full day of repose. Yet the increasingly common practice is to lengthen the day and perhaps forgo the daily direction period. Teams of directors need to ask carefully what they will suggest for the day. One retreat center's Web site says that a repose day is a good day for an out-ing to a local mall. The cynical mind would see this activ- The truly disce?nihg is whether ,or not the individual is ready for.a breather. 280 Review for Religious ity as giving the retreatant suitable prayer material for the Two Standards meditation coming in just a few days, as if retreatants do not have enough data already. Another director might wonder what a trip to a mall could offer someone who is praying for poverty and the Third Degree of Humility. The length of the day also requires team dis-cussion and discernment. What is the right length--for time to breathe but not go into a tailspin. The practice of repose days is often taken for granted. Directors and teams do not ask enough questions about it. The aim of this article has been to encourage ques-tioning. Notes ~ This note on "repose days" was inspired by three Jesuit novices whose retreat I directed. By their experiences, openness, and questions, Vincent Strand nSJ, Brian Rademacher nSJ, and Christopher Krall nSJ never stopped quietly calling me to move forward in faith. I offer them these words in gratitude. 2 Spiritual Exercises, §99. Unless noted, all quotations to the Exercises are from the translation by Louis J. Puhl SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951). 3 George E. Ganss SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius: A Translation and Commentary (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), p. 159. 4 Puhl, p. 177. s Number 62 in "Directory of Juan.Alfonso de Polanco," in Martin E. Palmer SJ, On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of I Y99 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 131. The Latin text is: "Peracta confessione generali, cum ulterius progrediendum est, ut respiret qui exercetur, meditatio de regno Christi ei proponetur, quae bis fiet, mane scilicet et vesperi; et pro illo die alia non proponantur; deinde sub vesperam Exercitium incar-nationis proponetur, postridie faciendum in aurora." 6 Number 81 in "Directory of Father Antonio Cordeses," in Palmer, p. 275. 7 Number 60 in "A Short Directory for Giving the Society's Exercises Effectively," in Palmer, p. 212. ~ Number 87 in "The Directory of Father Gil Gonz~ilez Dgvila," in Palmer, p. 250. 65.3 2OO6 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 9 Number 140 in "The Official Directory of 1599," in Palmer, p. 318. 10 Marian Cowan CSJ and John Carroll Futrell SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola: A Handbook for Directors (Denver, Ministry Training Services, 1981), p. 69. 11 William A.M. Peters SJ, "The Kingdom: The Text of the Exercise," Way Supplement 18 (Spring 1973): 9. ~2 Peters, pp. 16 and 11. ~3 Peters, p. 13. 282] Tinsel in August Scraps of it, in the evening grass, Left over from last Christmas's tree Dragged by its stump to its shreddedness, Casting garlands and crowns on its path, Still catch moon-sparks - like the cat With tinsel eyes, going forth into night With glitter afoot from May's prom-party Dress, and June's wedding gown, that drifted Crystal and spangles over the family pets, Over carpeting, over dancers and through cracks In the house. Overhead now, the tinsel Of summer stars slowly shreds with the sullen Advance of thunder and sheet-tinsel garlanding Horizons far to the West. Cat-tag tinseling, Lucifur comes home wet from his tryst. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious CHARLES P. FARRAR Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Seometimes the clearest way to describe an experi-nce is metaphorically. When an experience is unique and mysterious, we link it to something more common to make it more understandable. According to its Greek roots, metaphor means "to carry across." A well-conceived metaphor carries meaning across from one plane to another, thereby elevating the reader's con-sciousness. Metaphors have always been effective in the deft hands of writers of good spiritual theology: they suggest insights about God. The English Jesuit Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889) was a master of the spiritual metaphor. His poems' everyday images elevate readers' minds to fresh spiritual understandings. In the follow-ing sonnet a lantern conveys the experience of loss. Charles P. Farrar works as a hospital chaplain in Detroit. His address is 1930 Piper Drive, apt. 204; Rochester Hills, Michigan 48307. 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors 284, The Lantern out of Doors Sometimes a lantern moves along the night. That interests our eyes. And who goes there? I think; where from and bound, I wonder, where, With, all down darkness wide, his wading light? Men go by me whom either beauty bright In mould or mind or what not else makes rare: They rain against our much-thick and marsh air Rich beams, till death or distance buys them quite. Death or distance soon consumes them: wind V~at most I may eye after, be in at the end I cannot, and out of sight is out of mind. Christ minds: Christ's interest, what to avow or amend There, dyes them, heart wfnts, care hfunts, foot f611ows kfnd, Their rfnsom, their rescue, find first, ffst, last frMnd.1 The metaphor here, developing gradually through the two quatrains and the first tercet, is wonderfully subversive. What we think is a lyrical reflection about an ordinary event surprisingly turns out to be much more. The speaker leads us from a concrete observation (a nighttime lantern moving through the speaker's vision), to a more abstract observation about how the lives of beautiful people "go by" him until they disappear from view. What Hopkins is "carrying across" is the striking similarity between the way nighttime travelers pass by on the road and the way peo-ple come and go in our lives. But that is not all. In the last tercet he carries us to another plane of meaning, making a beautiful Christological statement: that Christ can do something which we cannot. He can keep up loving friendships with all those people whose departure from our lives had sad-dened us. This metaphor has carried us contemplatively from an everyday observation to--presto!--the healing of that sadness of ours. Review for Rdigious The first line and a half moves smoothly enough. Then we are jarred by "who goes there?" Suddenly the speaker becomes aware that the moving lantern implies a person. In lines 3 and 4 he drifts into a reverie about the whence and whither of the person "wading" like a lantern through a sea of darkness. All he knows of the person are the few moments of light present amid o.bscurity. The second stanza reflects on the beauty of certain people in the speaker's life, whether physical or internal beauty ("in mould or mind"). Such people are "bright" and "rare," like lanterns in the dark, like "rich beams" that "rain" against the "marsh air" of our mundane life. Notice how subjective this is. He is not primarily describ-ing the beauty in these people or the brightness in the lanterns. Rather he describes how these qualities affect him. (In this way Hopkins follows the tradition of Romantic poets like Wordsworth, Keats, and Rilke.) Consequently, when in line 8 these people leave the speaker's ken by "death or distance," they, for all intents and purposes, cease to exist. The word "quite" in line 8 seems to mean "completely." They disappear com-pletelyJhow tragic! The next tercet (lines 9-11) is a bit twisty to under-stand. And appropriately enough, for the action is the speaker's vain effort to keep these people in view as they go down a winding, twisting road. The Hopkins scholar Peter Milward says: "How eagerly soever he follows the winding steps of such men as they recede into the dark-ness, he cannot 'be in at the end'--that is, follow their subsequent history to its end.''2 The speaker concludes this thought with the clich6"out of sight is out of mind"--as though he is too numb emotionally to come up with a fresh phrase. We cannot help being struck by the loneliness of all this. The poem tells us nothing about these beautiful 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors The poem tells us nothi 2,861 lantern-like people. It does not reveal any empathy toward them; there is no relationship here. All that mat-ters is how the speaker feels: he sees them as "interesting," "beautiful," "bright," and "rare," and his seeing falls short. It seems he is psychologically trapped inside his own emotions. Notice how, for emphasis, Hopkins chimes the "I" sound three times in: "I about" thkse behut l may eye after, be in at the ¯ "~"~v~,~ia'tern*liv°'~a'i~ ~,,, end / I cannot." To find any happiness, he must be rescued from this solipsistic sighing. The rescue comes quickly in the last three lines. Simply by the sound of them, the reader senses that the speaker's mood has picked up. Thanks to Hopkins's "sprung rhythm," it all bursts to life sis-boom-bah. After lamenting that the beautiful persons disappear from his own mind, the speaker quickly adds that in Christ's mind they live on. Christ, too, is "interested" in those beauti-ful people, but his interest is objective, not subjective. He is interested, not in his feelings about them, but in their welfare. He never fails to "avow" all that is good in them, and he works to "amend" whatever they fail in. The words "~yes them, heart wfints, care hfiunts, foot f611ows kind" run together breathlessly,3 demonstrating an urgency of concern. This urgency, however, comes, not from last-ditch hopes groping in the darkness, but rather from the desire of Christ's heart. It comes from Christ's unconditional interest in them, not because of some particular beauty in them, but simply because of God's unfailing love for them. Christ can succeed where the speaker of the poem fails. His omniscient vision "eyes" all people without Review for Religious interruption. The speaker gladly acknowledges that from heaven our Lord gazes on them perpetually. And his "foot" can "follow" them without interference. This phrase "foot follows kind," incidentally, is a remarkable terse statement of the mystery of the incarnation. Thanks to the Son's taking on a human nature, he can "follow" us, as of one "kind" with him.4 As Hebrews puts it, "since the one who saves and those who are being saved have a common origin, Jesus does not hesitate to treat them as a family.''5 Being divine, Christ can follow us; with a human nature, he cannot help following us. From this, the sonnet's last line flows smoothly, both in its music and its logic. Being our "rescue" (the Messiah saves us from death) and our "ransom" (his sacrifice itself saves us), he has proven himself to be our "first, fast, last friend." Friendship is what the lantern-seeker yearns for but is denied. Abiding friendship, however, is precisely the promise which Christ fulfills.6 From the speaker's existential, self-absorbed lament about his unfulfilled affection for certain beautiful people, he arrives at a place of peace. His conviction that Christ's love for these peo-ple is complete, unlike his own, consoles him. One apparent weakness in the argument of this poem is that the conclusion seems to have been reached too facilely. It seems superficial or unreal that the speaker could assuage his sadness simply by calling Christ to mind. A study of Hopkins's life, however, suggests that the bur-den of this poem was likely learned and earned through a real personal struggle. One episode in his life shows how this sonnet may be somewhat autobiographical. In the winter of 1865, when he was a twenty-year-old Oxford student, he met a young man several years his junior named Digby Dolben. Dolben's cousin Robert Bridges appears to have asked Hopkins the favor of help-ing the younger man gain admission into Oxford. Dolben 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors was unforgettably vivacious and artistic. The two young men shared a passion for religion and poetry composi-tion. According to Hopkins's celebrated biographer Robert Bernard Martin, Dolben must have made a pow-erful impression on Hopkins's soul.7 His feelings, how-ever, were ambivalent: he relished this friendship, but also struggled with his desire to deepen it. When cir-cumstances required that Dolben move away later that same year, Hopkins was left feeling empty. When he learned of his friend's tragic drowning two years after-wards, he was devastated. Although Hopkins did not elaborate on these feel-ings in his letters or journals, there is a laconic journal entry from 1873: "I received as I think a great mercy about Dolben." This line was written immediately after a ten day spiritual retreat. It is remarkable that this per-son, with whom he had enjoyed communication only for a number of months, would be on his mind all these years later. It is more remarkable that the memory would surface as a consolation after a time of intense prayer. What had been going on in Hopkins's mind all this time? I believe the "Lantern out of Doors" provides a key. The connection between this episode and the sonnet-- albeit speculative--is compelling. Dolben's passing through Hopkins's life was much like the poem's lantern. In Hopkins's quiet and introverted life, Dolben's effer-vescent personality and artistic sensibilities must have been "rich beams" glinting in Hopkins's "marsh air." Moreover, Dolben's departure, first by "distance," then by "death," probably left him feeling much as the poem's first eleven lines leave us readers feeling. We can speculate that Hopkins tried to cope with this predicament psychologically. At this time he was embarking upon an earnest spiritual journey, one which would lead him first to become Catholic and then to join Review for Religious the Society of Jesus. It was a fertile time for him, spiri-tually and artistically. His journals and letters give ample evidence of a soul immersed in wonder and contempla-tion. Hopkins's Ignatian spiritual formation inspired him to seek God's presence in all things. Doubtless, his sad-ness about Digby Dolben entered into his contem-plative exercises. That journal entry referring to the mercy he received about Dolben was most likely a fruit of these devotions. The inspiration of the last three lines of the sonnet might, then, have flowed quite naturally. In a moment of contemplating Christ, the consolation mer-cifully came to him concerning Christ's invincible friend-ship with Dolben. If we could indulge in further conjecture about this sort of contemplation, it is reasonable to suppose that a key might be found in St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. For Hopkins as a Jesuit, this text could have been foun-dational; any experience of consolation could well have been understood in its light. One teaching in the Exercises stands out. The fourth point of the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love instructs the exercitant "to consider how all blessings and gifts descend from above. My lim-ited power, for example, comes from the supreme and infinite power from above. In like manner, justice, good-ness, pity, mercy, etc., descend from above just as the rays from the sun, the waters from the spring, etc.''8 Here one is being directed from a consciousness of blessings and gifts toward a contemplation of the God from whom they descend. It is plausible to imagine the 65.3 2006 Farrar * Lantern out of Doors 290 young Hopkins--still staggered by the radiant gifts that Dolben had brought into his life--in an effort to come to terms with his loss, contemplating the infinite power of Christ, who made these gifts shine through his late friend. And would this not have inspired Hopkins to trust that Christ's light will continue to shine upon and through Dolben for all eternity. Whether Hopkins can see it or not, he can still experience the healing which comes from the conviction that his friend is in very good hands. As Peter Milward elegantly puts it, "the last word 'friend' emphasizes the truth that the 'lantern out of doors' has its end in the love of Christ.''9 Perhaps many of us have had similar struggles and breakthroughs. I, for one, am constantly reminded of feelings of attraction toward the lantern-like people in my life: and also of the helpless sadness of separation. One example comes to mind, which arose out of my work as a hospital chaplain. I responded to a patient's request to visit him. Let us call him John. We enjoyed a rich conversation, about an hour long, about his spiritual his-tory, his family, his hopes for the future, and the mean-ing of life in general. It was the same the next two days. These visits were very fulfilling for me. It was no trou-ble for me to squeeze my schedule to find time for John. On the fourth day, to my surprise, the bed was empty. I discovered he had been discharged just a short time ago. A flood of questions came to mind: What did this mean? Was he feeling better? Why didn't he tell me he was leaving? This last question vexed me most. Like the sonnet's lantern-watcher, my thoughts were more on my letdown than on John's welfare. I felt guilty about that. I also felt guilty about getting so close to a patient. I remembered the hoary old adage of Clinical Pastoral Education: "Be careful about letting the ministry be a satisfaction for your personal needs." Review for Religious But why should I deny the good feelings that these visits with John had given me? They made me feel valu-able as a chaplain, and I wanted more. Like Hopkins contrasting the "much-thick and marsh air" of his mun-dane life with the "rich beams" some people's lives send forth, I wanted to feel that light. It helped me feel com-petent and useful. It gave my ministry an emphatic sense of purpose. I felt connected with this patient and wanted to connect some more. Then, like a lantern in the night, he was gone. I wish I could say that I rebounded immediately and arrived at a profound conviction akin to the insight of the last tercet in Hopkins's sonnet. But to this day I still feel some emptiness about John. As I later spoke with a friend about this, I realized how much emptiness there is in my heart about the many interesting people who have passed into and then out of my life. While I may not have "gotten over" the various sorts of grief occasioned by these losses, I often experience moments of consola-tion about them. I will find myself in the Liturgy, in prayer, in a conversation with someone, or reading, for instance, when some kind of assurance mysteriously comes. It is a consoling belief that Christ is watching over all God's children, that somehow they are all safe in his care. My attempts to analyze or describe these moments of consolation invariably, end in futility. What I can say is that they give me peace. I suppose what hap-pens is that my attention graciously moves from my own self-centered emptiness about the loss to a contemplation of where these individuals are in Christ's perspective, that is to say, watched over, loved, cared for by him. They are welcomed into friendship by their "first, fast, last friend." There are manifold ways to deal therapeutically with loss. Books teaching cognitive techniques consistently 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors find their place on bestseller lists. Granting the effec-tiveness of these techniques, I hope that believers will also consider the simple insight offered by this lovely poem. I hope we will forever keep our hearts open to seeing that those who have journeyed beyond our eye-sight remain within our Savior's. And there is a consol-ing corollary, that Christ watches my lantern too. Notes 1 Norman H. MacKenzie, ed., The Poetical Works of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992), no. 113, p. 40. 2 Peter Milward, A Commentary on the Sonnets of G.M Hopkins (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985), p. 62. 3 This effect is aided by the fact, as Milward (p. 63) observes, that the accents are on the verbs. 4 "Kind" has a double meaning here, nature and benevolence. These meanings are especially lovely in contrast to the rhymes (1) "mind" in the phrase "out of mind" and (2) "wind," the speaker's futile visual pursuit of the lanterns' apparent windings. The suggestion in the word "kind" is that the remedy for the speaker's sadness is that Christ is of a kind with us and is kind as well. s Hebrews 2:11, from Eugene H. Peterson, trans., The New Testament in Contemporary Language (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2002). 6 See John 15:13-15. 7 Robert B. Martin, Gerard Manley Hopkins:/1 Very Private Life (London: Harper, 1991), pp. 80-170. 8 The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans. Anthony Mottola (New York: Doubleday, 1964), p. 104. 9 Milward, Commentary, p. 63. Review for Religious RAYMOND R. RYAN Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Occasionally, as I try to explain to interested questioners what is going on in the novitiate, their eyes glaze over and I hear them internal-izing W.C. Fields's famous comment, "There's less here than meets the eye." Actually there is much more here than meets the eye. Formation today is dynamic, not static; not only for "them," but also for "us." Otherwise it is only a game, a series of hoops to be jumped through with blithe disregard for the future. Concern for that future, however, has prompted a great deal of research on the char-acteristics of today's candidates for religious life and priesthood. Perhaps a few findings from that research will help us better understand our new-comers, our novices. The fall 2004 issue of Touchstone, the official publication of the Raymond R. Ryan OSA, a former novice director, writes from the Augustinian Provincialate; 20300 Governors Highway; Olympia Fields, Illinois 60461. being religious 65.3 2006 Ryan * Today's Candidates ConversiOff iS ctnii iuou s through: initia[ a nd formation, and.it n ver s opS.i National Federation of Priests' Councils, features an arti-cle by Dominican Andrew Carl Wisdom: "Why Every Generation Matters in Preaching." He indicates that every congregation is made up of four or five distinct commu-nities: Builders (1901.-1924), Silent Generation (1925- 1942), Baby Boomers (1943-1964), Generation X (1964-1981), and Millennials (1981-present). He chal-lenges preachers to be aware of this intergenerational phe-nomenon and address homilies to each generation. It is not uncommon for a novitiate class or a postnovitiate for-mation community to have three generations represented. One of those younger men puts it this way: "I am not simply in formation, but in a real sense in re-for-mation. I am already someone with a full life, commitments, and deeply held con-victions. I don't know that the order is all that ready for people like me." Another, reflecting on his for-mation experience, remarks: "It is understood that we all have faults and reach various levels of maturity dur-ing different stages of our li~'es. However, it is of par-ticular concern when . . . one who has a reasonable, relatively healthy sense of self is now in formation with others who are considerably younger or much older, or have not yet resolved such pressing identity issues as their own sexuality. A formation team must be equipped to recognize and address such disparities within a for-mation community, rather than treat everyone with a one-size-fits-all approach." These observations make us aware that formation today is quite a venture. The two brothers quoted had Review for Religious good insights. One looks for re-formation. For the other, one-size-fits-all formation can be deformation. Obviously, intergenerational living with various levels of maturity and immaturity not only is a challenge, but can be a heavy cross. We who are supposedly "formed" can attest to how adult immaturity adversely affects our communal life. Before mentioning some formation components as they relate to today's candidates, I quote Msgr. Dennis Sheehan, senior Catholic chaplain at Harvard University, regarding some current candidates: Today's seminarian is older and more experienced . My fear is that at times we will form a priest accord-ing to all the directives and requirements. But, if he has not tracked that with the ongoing conversion of his intellectual, moral, and religious life, we are likely to find a formed priest who is only a partial Christian. ¯ . In this generation, when so many come to us chronologically and psychologically older, it is far more difficult to change basic assumptions. They will learn the Scriptures and theology and pass examina-tions . . . but then what? Often enough they can become a canonical enforcer. The collaborative can-didate becomes a clerical Caesar. (Seminary Journal, fall 2004) While Msgr. Sheehan is concerned with priesthood can-didates, his observation can also apply to candidates for religious life. His concern is that both initial and con-tinuing formation be considered matters of unending conversion, a quite Augustinian outlook. Life is a con-tinuing call to change and grow. Conversion, then, is continuous through initial and continuing formation and it never stops. For this reason, today's formation programs have both a strong programmatic component, which presents the elements of Catholic, Christian, and Augustinian (or Benedictine, Franciscan, and so forth) spirituality, and a 65.3 2006 Ryan ¯ Today's Candidates 296 personal/communal component. The latter has four interconnected goals, asking each candidate to: ¯ know himself and his stow; ¯ commit to building and sustaining healthy intimacy in his life; ¯ learn, or continue to learn, and understand that integration is a lifelong process. The gospel calls us to work at continuing conversion and to invite others into that lifelong and life-giving call from the Lord; ¯ allow himself to live in the tensions encountered, accepting that these are a part of integration. We cannot always reconcile tensions or "fix" things. God's presence is experienced just as surely in darkness as in light. The practice of solitude brings perspective, sometimes peace, but always a centering in Jesus, self, and others in our actual circumstances. These goals are spelled out more concretely in some of the following ways. Candidates have spiritual directors at all levels of initial formation. Directors meet those in formation monthly. The history and continuing stoW of God's call is a part of these discussions. When I was in a peer supervision group while novice director, our facil-itator, a Dominican sister with age, wisdom, and grace asked us, usually at a time of conflict or self-doubt, "And what's going on in you right now as you relate your stow?" I did not like the question, even after four and a half years in the group. Why? Because it forced me to clarify what I did not want to face or did not want to integrate into my life. Indeed, sharing ourselves brings deeper self-knowledge and a deeper realization that, the more personal the problem, the more universal it is. Formation today, along with the previously men-tioned personal elements, encourages the communal dimension, in ways perhaps strange or at least fleetingly uncomfortable to some. The "climate check," which we Review for Religious in our province used, is helpful. It is a simple statement of some truth about ourselves, our families, and our lives; it helps us "tune in" to each other--or perhaps find our-selves "on the same page," discovering a commonality of experiences. When community members suffer from misunderstandings or hurts, they are encouraged to meet together. One-on-ones, especially in conflict situations, can help them work through interpersonal difficulties. Sometimes things do not work out as hoped; that can be helpful too. We can ask what this tells us about each other and ourselves: "What's going on in us right now?" Postnovitiate formation invites all of the community members to attend house chapters and community meet-ings-- our more formal community structures. These can effectively introduce newer members into our time-hon-ored ways of being together. Contemporary Augustinian formation encourages personal and communal sharing. This is done not because psychologists have invaded our mid

Issue 61.6 of the Review for Religious, 2002. ; DECEMBER 2002 VO~,UME 61 'NUMBER 6~ Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2002 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. view for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ NOVEMBER DECEMBER 2002 VOLUME 61 NUMBER 6 contents 566 579 ignatian spirituality Ignatian Invitation: Remember and Imagine David L. Fleming SJ sums up the contemporary relevance of Ignatian spirituality in the dynamic movements of remembering and imagining. Ignatian Indifference and Structural Constraints Ignatius Jesudasan SJ enters us into the contemporary struggle to apply indifference as understood in spirituality to the various structural situations of authority and obedience. 585 594 ministry formation The Emergence of the Contemporary Traditionalists David M. Whalen OSFS presents certain "verbal snapshots" of young people identified as contemporary traditionalists whose interim theology includes an exemption or "notwithstanding" clause. A Collaborative Model of Missionary Formation Guy B. Wilson ST explains a model of formation for the men candidates of the Missionary Servants of the Most Holy Trinity, which involves the collaboration of the Trinitarian family of men and women religious and lay persons, following the inspiration of their founder, Father Thomas Augustine Judge. 602 sisters and brothers Mary Magdalene: An Icon for Women Religious Mary Kay Dobrovolny RSM, by using the resurrection story found in John 20:11 o 18, presents Mary Magdalene as an icon for celibate loving and apostolic mission for women religious. Review for Religious 615 Lonely and Small: Religious Brothers' Situation Philip Armstrong CSC makes a case for religious life, the vowed commitment to a life of service to the church and to the world through the public profession of the evangelical counsels, to be raised to the status of a sacrament in the Roman Catholic Church. 624 God and us The Birth of Christ in the Human Person Janet Sullivan OSF brings home the faith reality that God asks of us what he asked of Mary: to allow his Son to come to birth in us. 631 Reading/Reciting the Psalms: Some Reflections Roland E. Murphy OCarm offers, from his lifetime of study and prayer, a bright sprinkling of information and intuition about the psalms. 64O Eucharistic Faith: Jesus' Bread-.of-Life Discourse Dennis J. Billy CSSR reflects upon Jesus' Discourse on the Bread of Life On 6:22-71) to emphasize the call to faith which every Eucharist celebrates~ departments 564 Prisms 649 Canonical Counsel: 656 Book Reviews 666 Indexes Mandatory Dismissal November-Decentber 2002 prisms After sixty-one years of publish-ing on a bimonthly schedule Review for Religious begins a quarterly schedule of publication beginning in the year 2003. As our readers may well surmise, rising costs of publishing and mailing have played a signifi-cant role in leading to this decision. As editor, I have explored, with the help of my Board members and staff, various options. We could raise the subsdription price and still be competitively equal to other jo.urnals ~nd magazines. But since women and men religious with their religious vow of poverty make up the larger part of our readership, I want to keep the cost as low as possible. Perhaps even more importantly, fi large number of foreign sub-scribers, especially in India and in the countries of Africa, would find any increase in price unbearable in terms of currency exchange rates. We thought of reducing the size of the journal from 112 pages to 64 or 72 pages, a common pagina-tion for journals of our kind. A cheaper production and a lighter weight for mailing would save some expense, while at the same time allowing us to main-tain a bimonthy schedule. After serious discussion among Board members and staff, we decided that the continuity of appearance and quality of material should not be sacrificed for the sake of economy. As we considered the quarterly schedule, the Board encouraged us as an editorial staff to try to Review for Religious engage our readers in a more interactive way with follow-up questions or reflection/prayer helps and, perhaps, with some sort of readers' forum or letters-to-the-editor column. As we reduce the number of regular issues of Review for Religious from six to four times a year, we intend to provide a 32-page supplement issue for the seasons of Lent and Advent which will allow us to experiment. These supplements will be included in the regular subscription price that remains the same as it has been. Since we are an international journal, we will not try to des-ignate our quarterly issues by seasons since they vary with our readers' northern or southern climates. Instead we will identify the volume number and then each issue as "Quarterly" num-bered from one to four in every year. The two supplements will be identified by the church seasons of Lent and Advent. We are grateful to you, our subscribers and readers, for your loyal support. We intend that you will find the same con-sistent high-quality articles in every issue. We also will be look-ing forward to your response to our interactive supplements, whether for possible publication or not. In fact, we welcome comments from our readers even now. We are always seeking to increase our readership and so we continue to encourage you to give a gift subscription or sug-gest that a friend or colleague subscribe. If you or your com-munity could provide a gift subscription for those financially limited communities or individuals, usually in countries other than the United States, your charity would be much appreci-ated. Either designate the gift-recipient or allow us to fund the many requests that we receiveand do not have the resources with which to respond. You then extend your own mission in wonderful ways through the mission of Review for Religious. The editors and staff of Review for Religious wish you the richest blessings of the Advent and Christmas seasons. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 2002 DAVID L. FLEMING Ignatian Invitation: Remember and Imagine ignatian spirituality Pope John Paul II issued a call to all Christians as we entered this new millennium. It is a call that he has repeated i~a many talks since he wrote his challenging letter about the new millennium back in January 2001. The Latin phrase Duc in altum expresses his challenge succinctly. We translate it as "Put out into the deep." It is, of course, Jesus' command to Peter and Andrew, James and John, and their fishing companions after they have just spent a fruitless night at their fishing occupation. As we faced a new millennium, with its unfulfilled promise and its potential disasters, John Paul said that as Christians, full of faith, we should lead the way: Duc in altum, put out into the deep. Little did we think that in the year 2001 we would experience, especially in the United States, a "deep" defined by the effect of the September 11 terrorist attack on a whole way of living. Little did we think that in 2002 we would have our economy shaken by major company fraud, abetted by accounting firms that paradoxically were not accountable. Little did we think that we would find David L. Fleming SJ, editor of this journai, presented this material as a talk at the Ignatian Spirituality Conference in St. Louis, Missouri, in July 2002. Review for Religious ourselves in a church under scrutiny for its own internal terror by a few of its priests, but a few too many, and by the lack of accountability in some of its own hierarchical leaders. Duc in altum. Yes, we feel that we are somewhere out in the deep. What are the resources that we Christians now draw on? What are the strengths of the spirituality that we try to live? I would like to share with you the strengths that I experience in Ignatian spirituality. Back in the last century--in the 1940s and '50s--part of growing up in St. Louis in the summer months was a day-long trip on the Mississippi River on the excursion boat called the Admiral. The boat left at ten o'clock in the morning from the downtown riverfront (the area where now the Arch stands), usually went south down the river just beyond the Jesuit White House Retreat, which sits on the bluffs overlooking the river, some fifteen or twenty miles down river. The boat would then circle around and buck the river currents, chugging slowly back up the river and mooring at about four o'clock in the afternoon. Being a five-deck boat, it offered a lot of room for people to meander, between air-conditioned decks and open-air decks, between a ballroom dance-floor deck and a deck for games, between restaurant areas and "bring-your-own-picnic" areas. What always made a big impression upon me were the two massive pistons, the major attraction of a noisy and hot first-deck area. These two massive arms kneading up and down were our visible representation of what moved the boat forward. To make a turn, one arm obviously would do most of the work. But the two working in unison pushed this big boat securely against the strongest of river currents. I experience Ignatian spirituality much as I experienced the Admiral excursion boat. Ignatian spirituality is something in movement. Ignatian spirituality has a lot of room within it--a lot of different decks, as it were, where we live out an Ignatian spirituality in a variety of contexts. But what intrigues me the most are the two massive pistons that allow for the movement or dynamism of Iguatian spirituality. The words with which I will identify these two pistons will surprise no one. Those of us familiar with Ignatian spirituality talk about them with ease. But what I hope to share with you is the often overlooked importance of each of these arms and, perhaps even more so, the necessity of November-December 2002 Fleming ¯ Ignatian lnvitation their working in unison if we, seeking our life's direction within an Ignatian spirituality, are to continue to move forward even amid strong and deep currents. I will use the word remembering for one arm of movement and imagining for the other. Remembering I deliberately have chosen these active verbal terms remembering and imagining rather than the more stolid noun-forms mentor)/and imagination. Ignatius is a man-in-motion, and he relates to God, to his fellow men and women, and to his world in a dynamic fashion. In his mystical intuition at the river Cardoner in Manresa, he sees God as a God who labors, an active God, a busy God. He understands that busyness, laboring, working does not take us away from a laboring God, a busy God. And so Ignatius writes with verbs and participles, a motion-oriented, vigorous style, especially in the Spiritual Exercises. We need always to keep reminding ourselves that the Exercises book, by its very title, speaks of movement, of interactivity--the activity within a person (in the retreat first of all, but in daily life as well) and the activity without, that is, all that happens outside us in the world all around us, in the circumstances of the people and things of our everyday life. Ignatian spirituality is an active spirituality, or, rather, an interactive spirituality. Noticing One of the first actions of Ignatius in developing his relationship with God is caught in the word noticing, taking note of, noting. Ignatian spirituality begins to thrive where Ignatius himself began--paying attention to various experiences, noting what is going on. In his Autobiography, Ignatius particularly emphasizes his noting of his own reactions to his daydreams about serving his king or a noble lady and his d~ydreams about doing as St. Dominic or St. Francis did. He notes what is going on inside (within) himself---the effects both short-range and longer lasting. Just as for all of us, Ignatius does not claim that he never had these kinds of experiences previously. It is just that now he notes or notices them. He also takes note of what is going on around Review for Religious him (the without). He is very observant of his world, the people in it, their various customs. Perhaps out of his piety and certainly out of his courtly training, he adopts an attitude of reverence to God, to God's people, and to God's world. Noting or noticing is all part of our attitude of reverence as we live in God's world, our home. Noting or noticing is a first and essential part of remembering, one of the two piston arms of Ignatian spirituality. Examining Another part of remembering in Ignatian spirituality is something that has received much emphasis in our day. The examen or examination of conscience has had a revitalization over the past thirty years that has put it at the forefront of, made it the signature exercise of, Ignatian spirituality. For us in North America, Jesuit George Aschenbrenner's article "Consciousness Examen" in the January-February 1972 issue of Review for Religious marked the beginning of this renaissance. Since then, the writings of John English, Joseph Tetlow, John Veltri, Dennis Hamm, and many others, Jesuits and others, have given new life to and sharp insight into the practice of the daily examen. From the Exercises book we are aware that Ignatius identifies a number of examinations. In fact, because these constitute the first material under the title First Week, we cannot miss the implication that examining is an important ingredient of making the Exercises. Obviously, our process of examining works better as we get more accustomed to noting or noticing as we move through a day. But examining remains its own special exercise, beyond noting, and remains an essential part of the piston arm we call remembering. Recalling the Story A third aspect of remembering is to be found in the Ignatian first preludes from the contemplations of the Second Week on, the preludes that recall the history of an event. "History" for Ignatius does not refer to facts of a past event. His Spanish expression, ~aer la historia (§§102, 191), emphasizes "making present the story." Ignatius does not say "bring to memory" or November-December 2002 Fle~ning ¯ Ignatian Invitation Remembering plays such an important role in Ignatian spirituality that this spirituality is clearly a reflective spirituality. "remember" the relevant ~cts. He says "recall the history bow" (the Spanish como). For Ignatius, facts are not enough. He wants us to enter into the how and why of events. The first and second preludes for a gospel contemplation are interlocked. The second prelude is a composition, sometimes erroneously identified as a "composition of place." Among more recent authors, the Jesuit William A.M. Peters brought the significance of this Ignatian usage to our attention, showing that Ignatius stresses rather the composition of ourselves within the history. We place ourselves by noting how we see the Trinity looking down upon our world; we place ourselves by noting bow the pregnant Mary, Joseph, and a little servant girl wend their way towards Bethlehem. So history and composition are tightly interlocked-- not as preliminary to prayer, but as an integral part of our prayer, which has its various focal points. Just as noting and examining are integral to the Ignatian remembering, so, I believe, the Ignatian "history," this recalling of the story, is an integral part as well. Remembering, then, plays such an important role in Ignatian spirituality that this spirituality is clearly a reflective spirituality. It is reflective in the way that scholars suggest the Hebrew Scriptures were formed--by people noting, recalling, exa.mining, reflecting on the story. Ignatian spirituality is in sync with the providential process whereby people's remembering contributed to the forming of our Scriptures. We have described one arm of Ignatius's dynamic spirituality. It is time to express a qualification, beginning with the word but. But this arm I have just described has, I believe, received overemphasis through the centuries and perhaps also in our own time. This emphasis was so great that often the second arm was practically ignored. I would like to focus now on the second piston arm of Ignatian spirituality, which I will describe by the word imagining. Review for Religious Imagining Over the past thirty years, I think that the battle about whether Ignatian spirituality predominantly makes use of an intel-lectu~ il and meditative form of prayer or a contemplative one has been won. The centuries-long controversy, in fact, may have been not so much about a way of praying as about how important imagination is in Ignatian spirituality. Even now, in the current renewal of Ignatian spirituality, I think that people do not give imagining the pride of place that Ignatian spirituality requires. Jesuits themselves are partly responsible for the lack of emphasis on this second arm of Ignatian spirituality. In most traditions, secular or ecclesial, there seems to be a continuing fear of imagination. After their forty-year suppression, I think that Jesuits in their 1814 refounding took their cue from the church climate and parroted the text of the Exercises and their own Ignatian constitutions just as American Catholics parroted the Baltimore Catechism in the 19th and 20th centuries before Vatican Council II. I believe that many of the retreats Jesuits gave to religious women in their motherhouses and to lay men and women in Jesuit retreat houses suffered from a deficient understanding of the importance of imagination in Ignatian spirituality. St. Ignatius implicitly but clearly calls for imagination when he insists on adapting the Exercises to specific retreatants, but this was often ignored. Even now, in the current renewal of Ignatian spirituality, Jesuits and others often set little store by imagination. You may be getting the picture that I think that imagining is all too scarce in people's understanding and living of Ignatian spirituality today. And, in looking to the future, I think that imagining is altogether essential. Just as I discussed three integral parts of remembering-~- noting, examining, and recalling the story--now I want to discuss three integral parts of imagining in Ignatian spirituality. I begin with contemplating, for this is again where Ignatius has left his mark on Christian spirituality. Contemplating Ignatian contemplation is focused, not on losing oneself in God, but on finding oneself with God. Contemplating is ordinarily understood as "gazing upon" the divine. In this gazing, November-December 2002 Fleming ¯ lgnatian lnvitation We tell stories not just to remember the past, but to learn for the future. the emphasis is not on the relationship between oneself and God, but rather is on being absorbed in God, lost in God, taken up into God. An example of this kind of contemplation is centering prayer. For Ignatius, however, the focus is always on relationship. Because Ignatian contemplation is ordinarily focused on gospel mysteries (that is, gospel events), we as contemplatives may, of course, get absorbed in the gospel story, but we are always consciously in relationship. For Ignatius, contemplating the gospel mysteries is the privileged way to come to know Jesus more clearly so as to love him more dearly and follow him more nearly, as the popular song from Godspell would impress upon us. A number of people today, in our media-saturated climate, claim difficulty with Ignatian contemplation for the very reason that it calls us to use our imagination. Having been spoon-fed by movies, television, and now computers and handheld Palms, we may have had our imaginations dulled. But, regardless of the cause, how do we help ourselves and others to do the imagining that Ignatius calls for? Ignatius was a romantic man, and he made active use of his imagination, as we know from his Autobiography. We ourselves may or may not be romantically inclined, but I think that most of us have told a story or two in our small world of everyday interaction with others. We tell stories about what happened to us or to others at the store, at work, at school, or on the way home. Most of us tell stories frequently. Ignatian contemplation can be understood as "telling a story." Remember what we said about the Ignatian "history": making something present to ourselves, recalling how. Contemplating for us is meant to be as involving as our own telling of a story. We have had the experience of telling the story of being at the bedside of dying Aunt Martha, and in the telling the lump in the throat and the tears come just as if we were once again in the midst of the very event. We have had some ridiculous interchange between a fellow worker and ourselves, and the event is so real that, in the retelling, tears of laughter roll down Review for Religious our own cheeks and down our listeners' cheeks as well. That kind of involvement is Ignatian contemplation. Perhaps we are not very imaginative, and the Ignatian directive of seeing the people, listening to what they say, and then watching their actions may seem very stilted and even cause us to feel frozen in our response. But I repeat that almost everyone can tell a story (and usually does in day-to-day life). And I think that, for Ignatius, contemplating and telling the story are one and the same activity. When we tell a story, we not only provide details; we also communicate meaning. Beyond that, we intimate the story's significance for ourselves and for the future. Telling the story may give us insight into our own behavior, other people's perceptions and moods, and God's ways of acting. We tell stories not just to remember the past, but to learn for the future. Telling stories is our way of imbibing wisdom. Contemplating, telling stories, looks to the future, and is an integral part of imagining. Dreaming A second aspect of imagining for Ignatius is dreaming--not nighttime dreams, but the daydreaming that is a part of youth, no matter the age. When we looked at the importance of noting for Ignatius, we observed that he had daydreams about serving the king of Spain and winning a great lady's hand; and then alternately he dreamed of serving Christ his King with great deeds like the saints of old, such as Dominic and Francis. After his wounding at Pamplona and his conversion, Ignatius never lost his ability to dream. I think we gain insight when we look upon the Call of the King meditation at the beginning of the Second Week as Ignatius's attempt to bring us into Christ's dream. Whether we take the parable king, so winning and inspiring, proposing his dream of conquering his enemies and achieving a victorious peace, or whether we consider the risen Christ calling each of us to let ourselves be caught up into his dream of the kingdom of heaven, God's reign, we are entering into a dream of future happenings. For the human king, such dreams might never be realized; for Christ, the victory of the dream is already realized in his resurrection, as we know by faith. In the Exercises, whether we consider the Three Degrees of Humility (§§165ff) or the situations described in the Second Way November-December 2002 Fleming ¯ Ignatian lnvitation to Make a Good and Sound Election (§§184ff), Ignatius presumes that most of us dream about our futures. He takes a common human experience and uses it for God. Dreaming, which is about a future still unrealized, is a use of imagination. Dreaming is an integral part of imagining in Ignatian spirituality. Visioning Similar to dreaming in Ignatian spirituality, but fixed more in the reality of what is already present, is visioning. Ignatius presents us with three vision exercises. He begins with a vision exercise known as the Principle and Foundation. He closes with an exercise tided "Contemplation on the Love of God," a vision exercise. The third vision exercise is tided the Call of the King (sometimes understood as the Second Principle and Foundation opening the Second Week and the Weeks thereafter). We have already considered it primarily under the idea of Christ presenting his dream to us, but Ignatius is careful to point out that this is more than just a dream, for the victory is assured. It is also a vision. The Principle and Foundation expresses succincdy Ignatius's way of seeing God, himself, his neighbor, and his world--in all their relations--and seeing, too, the choices to be made in living out the truth of the vision. The Contemplation on the Love of God expresses the ways of God's loving that we have reflected on and experienced through the course of the Exercises. In it we pray to be empowered to go forth and love with something of the fullness and breadth of God's loving. For Ignatius, visions present reality to us. Our effort to bring our own way of living into the vision gives us our direction into the future. Visioning, then, lik~ dreaming and contemplating, is an integral part of imagining--all three elements looking towards the future. I believe that the emphasis on imagining inherent in Ignatian spirituality is what allows it to be open, adaptable, and applicable to the future. Imagining is akin to the "blue-skying" that is so much a part of the planning process in organizational psychology. "Blue-skying" breaks us out of our usual restraints just as the image suggests. For Ignatius, imagining allows God to break into our lives because we have given up our own control, our own setting of limits. Imagining allows us to be open and Review for Religious available, to be vulnerable, to let a divine break-in help us to break out. Such imagining, then, as Ignatius discovered, becomes a way of working with God in the direction that God calls us. Recall that it is two piston arms that give Ignatian spirituality its dynamism: remembering and imagining. These terms mean more than a casual "look back" and then a "look forward," and neither one is to be chosen over the other. The genius of Ignatius was to see how only both working together would provide the forward dynamism that is summed up in the often misunderstood phrase "spiritual freedom." Being Free We are free only if we know, acknowledge, and work with our own personal history. But we need something more. We are free only if we are not limited or shackled by our past or present so that we can imagine the fi~ture that we are invited to by God. In Ignatius's experience, human freedom is a gift of God, but only a potential one. Actual freedom requires us to join together our remembering and our imagining. To be more exact, for us people of faith the gift of freedom is realized only in its relationship with the gift of God's grace. Then human freedom is experienced--Ignatius would say, using the Spanish word liberalidad--as generosity. I think, indeed, that liberalidad is better translated self-giving. Liberalidad well describes God's way of loving, a loving without limits, and yet always a discreet love. For Ignatius, a love without limits is a love of discretion because of reverence. The reverence that God shows to each of us, his children, is meant to be the pattern of our own way of loving. As the Third and Fourth Weeks show, God's love, incarnate in Jesus, will not be limited even by threat of death or death itself. And, in his risen life, Jesus lives the discreet love of never forcing but eliciting our response. Jesus' interaction with Thomas a week after the resurrection shows Love eliciting love. There are no limits to God's love, but, his reverence for us being so great, God always loves us with discretion. Human freedom, what we sometimes call spiritual freedom, is about giving oneself, sharing who we are. Freedom in its essence is not focused on one's independence or on concern about one's rights. For Ignatius, as we are reminded in his November-December 2002 Fleming ¯ Ignatian Invitation prenote to the Contemplation on the Love of God, lovers want to express their love in deeds more than words, and lovers want to communicate (the Ignatian word communicar) or share what they have with the one they love. It is in self-giving, in mutual sharing, mutual surrender, that human freedom is most strongly experienced. It is in this experience of generosity that true love is experienced between God and us and between wife and husband and between all who love. Ignatian generosity is not just a giving as in giving away; it is a sharing, a communication back and forth between two parties. "More !" The dynamism of Ignatian spirituality is sometimes identified with the Latin word magis, "More!" Looking for more seems to indicate a discontent with what is. Wanting more--for example, more food, more money, more successmcan be a devil-driven quality that makes us desire to be our own gods. To put magis in focus, we need to recognize that Ignatius's meaning of the word is in relation to love that has no limits, but nevertheless is always discreet. In ottier words, magis for Ignatius is a relationship word, a word having meaning in terms of personal relationships, in terms of love, reverential love. For Ignatius, God-given love is the only thing, the only giving, that gives proper meaning to "More!"--the love given freely, in generosity and always in reverence, just as God loves. Into the Deep In the same apostolic letter that Pope John Paul told us Christians to "set out into the deep" in this new millennium, he also gave a name to the spirituality that was to empower us in this endeavor. He called all Christians to live a "spirituality of communion." The pope made little attempt to define it and certainly did not identify this spirituality of communion with any one school or tradition of spirituality. The word communion, we note, does not come from the Latin unio and cure, meaning "union with." Rather, with its two re's, communio (from the Latin munus and cure) expresses a "functioning or working with." The usual English meaning of Review for Religious "communion"--that is, "union with"--will result from our "working together," but there seems to be an emphasis on activity, a real working at something together. The pope has called us all to live a spirituality of communion--to live a working-together spirituality--in a world in which divorce and family divisions are rampant, a world in which the meanness and divisiveness of racial, cultural, and economic differences have turned various cities and countries into war zones, a world in which our churches are divided between conservative (or traditional) factions and liberal (or progressive) ones, and a world in which religious faith itself is used as the excuse for the hatred, violence, and death visible in Europe, visible in the Middle East, visible in Africa, visible in India, and there are always more. The spirituality that is needed for us to face this world, the pope says, is above all a spirituality of communion. It is a provocative expression for a spirituality that looks to the future--"working together at bringing together." What is Ignatius's invitation to us today? It really does not differ from his invitation to the men and women of his own time in the 16th century. Perhaps we see the makeup of his spirituality more clearly today, finding it attractive in the face of the demands of our times. Perhaps we are more needy today, more in need of what this spirituality offers. Perhaps Ignatian spirituality shows the way to a reverence for all relationships in our world, so missing in secular culture and perhaps obscured in our church too. Whatever the appeal of Ignatian spirituality, I know that it concretizes for us a spirituality of communion--a "working together at bringing together." We need to be fed by God's word, by "every utterance that comes from the mouth of God," if we are to live and actively minister in our church today. For this, it can help to hold on to the word remembering, noting, examining, and recalling the story of events that have gone into the making of who we are--but not letting the past encapsulate us or drive us. We need to allow our creator God to break into our lives with creativity, and so it can help to hold on to the word imagining, contemplating, dreaming, and visioning activities that allow God to enter our life and accompany us into a world of generosity that only a truly'free person can know. When we remember God's love from past events and when we imagine God's call to greater love, more generosity, in the November-December 2002 Fleming ¯ Ignatian Invitation future, we are able to experience the magis (the "More!"), a love that is free and discreet, not driven, because of God's reverence for us and our reverent response. With a discreet love that knows no limits, we enter into Jesus' way of loving, into all the activity of God's way of loving. We are free to share our gifts, to be present, to give of ourselves, to labor and struggle and not count the cost. Whatever our situation, we may hear St. Ignatius echoing Pope John Paul: Yes, put out into the deep, be empowered with a spirituality of communion, look beyond patriarchy, foster mutuality, look towards solidarity, "work together at bringing together." Father Pedro Arrupe, the former superior general of the Jesuits, often used to ask challengingly, "Como?" or, in English, "How to do?" I can see Ignatius responding: "Remember and imagine." I can see Ignatius softly reminding us that there is a magis because there is Love. More softly still he adds, "Remember, imagine. See Jesus, our crucified Love." Adirondack Dawn Such intense stillness - no birdsong greets my ears, but only the whisper of lake water lapping the shore and birch leaves rustling ever so slightly. A faint cloud of incense rises from the misty waters, perfumed by the aroma of fragrant pine forests. Nature and I stand mute, awed by the miracle of this new day being birthed in such splendor. Christine Diensberg OSF Review for Religious IGNATIUS JESUDASAN Ignatian Indifference and Structural Constraints ~sehraneet lSy tu. nIgcnhaaltlieunsg reedfe cros ntcoe apst Gino odu'rs pwluilrla ilsis htiacr tdilmy eas. For him and his contemporaries, God was the indubitably trustworthy and unshakable rock on which to secure one's choice and commitment. Our age and culture do not believe in and recognize God as patently as previous ones did. Ours is a secular era, which understands and is at home with only secular language and thought. As contemporaries of this era, we cannot use any other language if we seriously want to address people of our era and be understood by them. In the context of seeking and finding God's will with regard to important decisions at the crossroads of one's life, St. Ignatius is, in effect, speaking of "affective indifference." In common parlance, this is a state of peace unruffled by the emotions of joy, hope, fear, and anxiety about actual or possible happenings. Anxiety is an indicator of attachment to something or someone and of the consequent fear of losing or becoming distanced from that object or person. Attachment can also be to one's own will, interests, or powers. Regarding decisions to be made by individuals and groups, we can use this language to approximate what Ignatius calls God's Ignatius Jesudasan SJ, new to our pages, writes from Loyola School; Uthiramerur 603 406; India. November-December 2002 Jesudasan ¯ Ignatian Indifference and Structural Constraints Images can be obstacles to affective indifference. A will. He desires to help people find as complete a freedom and objectivity as is obtainable or realizable on earth, so that they may be peacefully sure of making the right decision in current circumstances and the prevailing state of knowledge, avoiding needless errors of judgment and resulting difficulties, regrets, and recriminations. Affective indifference means freedom from emotional attachment or aversion to someone or something that a decision concerns or affects. Attachment and aversion are prejudices for or against someone or something. When one makes a decision on the basis of a prejudice, one is far from being fair to all involved in or affected by the decision. This unfairness comes ultimately from one or another prejudicial structure. Ignatius's stress on emotional or affective indifference can be seen as stemming from his concern about social structures with their social prejudices. Within those structures he sees the obviously unstable and changing nature of the emotions of both liking and disliking. His wish and desire is to help people achieve a stable social structure wherein all can be at peace together. This means that personal decisions people make need to be firm, steady, and. dependable. Affective indifference or lack of it has a bearing on social structures, and vice versa. People's most common difficulty in achieving and retaining affective indifference arises from the way their likes and dislikes make relationships unstable, opportunistic, exploitive, and irresponsible instead of stable, edifying, principled, virtuous, and responsible. People get stuck in webs of negative relationships from which only great effort, suffering, and sacrifice could extricate them--things they are not likely to desire. Often the very positions people occupy in an institution are obstacles to affective indifference, especially positions of great power, wealth, esteem, and influence. This can be true in the church and in institutions of religious congregations. Images can be obstficles to affective indifference. The image that people have or might get of you, or the image that you want to project of yourself, say of clarity and firmness, can make you Review for Religious inflexible. But you flatter yourself---and, when you are in power, there are also others to flatter you--with having that clarity and firmness. Such inflexible consistency is likely to be the very opposite of affective indifference and of psychological and spiritual freedom. It is perhaps a sign of the times and a clue to what they are reading that major superiors call for feedback on their governance. One hopes that they do this in openness and Ignatian indifference to the diverse opinions expressed. Needless to say, the teaching of St. Ignatius on indifference applies no less to superiors and their attitudes and decisions than to the ordinary members of his Society. Superiors have a duty to ask it of their subjects, and subjects have the reciprocal right to expect it from their superiors. Without it, religious governance would be no different from that of any secular, efficient, and exploitive military organization. The very call for feedback is a sign of a personal government, one that respects every member and takes the whole of his personality into account in decisions that affect him. This implies that the superior follows up, observes carefully, and, from what he sees and hears, learns how the subject has responded and how effectively he is accomplishing the assignment. Subjects might, of course, deliberately give false impressions. The superior might not interpret the information objectively, might bring prejudice to it, a lack of affective indifference. Depending on the patterns overall, the decision, its result, and the reading of the resulting situation will qualify as just clever and efficient, or else as also holy. An order made or given in affective indifference (and thus without prejudice) can be expected to be received with affective indifference by the subject. When there is resistance or reservation on the part of subjects who are usually affectively indifferent, there may be an absence of indifference on the part of the superior. The indicator of affective indifference is readiness to listen to the reasons and feelings of people on the other side. Indifference is total presence, availability, and attention to the other. It presupposes a measure of leisure and empathy to move with the other's flow of feeling, understanding, motivation, decision, commitment, and action. It is identification with the November-December 2002 ~esudasan ¯ I~natian Indifference and Structural Constraints other; it is objectivity with and transparency to the other. It is a state of perfect understanding, with a naturally contagious mutuality. The above is a description of a desirable ideal. The reality is very different on both sides. For we are all "busy" and in a hurry to achieve: make a name, prove a point, or teach a lesson--all in a short time. The result is that we do not achieve a solid objectivity, but make a show of power or of ourselves and our self-will, unaware of what we project and the violence we inflict on others because we do not see ourselves with their eyes: because in fact we are not indifferent. There are other structural hindrances to affective indifference. Being conditioned to structures can be the first. Some structures are inevitable and therefore function as criteria of indifference. Other structures, like tight schedules and strict procedures, militate against indifference. The greater the work, haste, power, prestige, or public image in one's life, the less time and likelihood there is for self-questioning. Thus one becomes extrovert and self-justifying, revealing the absence of detachment and indifference. When one is vested with much power or authority, one seems threatening to others, and the perceived threat erodes their indifference too. Another hindrance is that structures themselves, the very forms and formalities of objectivity, may have lacunae. That is, they may be objective only on the dubious assumption of perfect indifference on the part of decision makers and consultors. In decisions about a subject's psychological illness or resistance to change, the person involved may be physically absent from the scene of decision, and there may be a real possibility of his being prejudicially misrepresented because someone at the meeting likes or dislikes him. This writer became aware of one such misrepresentation and pointed it out. The superior, when informed, was apparently honest and humble enough to accept the correction, but the decision had already-been made in the absence of the subject and on the basis of a misunderstanding of a text. How sure is one that the information supplied to the consultors at the decision-making session is correct? When the basis of the decision is incomplete or incorrect, how complete and correct can the decision be? The probability is that this was not a unique occurrence. But Review for Religious how and why do such instances occur? They occur from the ex-parte nature of the decision or proceedings in the absence of the concerned person. The system does not have a built-in transparency for all concerned. Between the superior and the consultors, there may be some transparency. But, if the superior had the right to decide the matter after his face-to-face discussion with the concerned person but chooses, permissibly but without necessity, to bring the matter before his consultors, the subject's trust in the proceedings tends to be shaken. When the subject's personal indifference is not great, accepting the communicated decision is difficult, and the subject is left with the impression that the decision makers are no more indifferent than he himself is. It is likely that bias affects the decision precisely because the proceedings go on without the concerned person. In a personal government, transparency to the persons concerned is more important than transparency to a mechanism of decision making. Personal transparency is more likely to induce or educe a subject's indifference than an authoritarian structural mechanism like an official meeting of consultors. Besides, transparency to a mechanism risks betraying information that is passed on to a superior in confidence, and will only serve to make people opaque and nontransparent. If both trust and transparency are to be preserved along with the existing mechanisms and ways of proceeding,' the persons whom decisions concern will have to be asked to be present when the decisions are made. Otherwise, decisions are perceived as unfair and confidence is further eroded. A bigger structural constraint is the centralization of power and portfolios in the hands of one major superior. I am not advocating the appointment of more major superiors, but a suggesting that there may need to be decentralization and How sure is one that the information supplied to the consultors at the decision-making session is correct? November-December 2002 z~esudasan * Ignatian Indifference and Structural Constraints democratization of power at all levels, with the right to appeal to a higher superior when there is disagreement or conflict at any level. Democratization can be ensured by dialogue and wider consultation and by opening the local consultors' meetings to any and all members of the local community who are interested. The content or agenda of every such meeting should be announced beforehand. When a member and his works are discussed, he should have to be present. Entrusting more powers to local superiors in dialogue with their consultors and their community could ensure decentralization, but there should also be appeal to the higher superior in case of conflict or disagreements. Only that which cannot be resolved or decided upon by the local superior and community should be referred to the higher superior and his consult. When individual members feel that their voice is heard at the appropriate and necessary levels, the level of their confidence and indifference will increase. 5-841 Walking with Jesus I stroll along the water's edge tiny shorebirds my companions scurrying for morsels of food God provides in the receding tide. And I think of Jesus by the sea of Galilee, the apostles his companions listening to every word from his gentle heart. Now I too reach out to Jesus midst the sunrises and sunsets cognizant of the food of life bestowed on me, a loving son. Neil C. Fitzgerald Review for Religious DAVID M. WHALEN The Emergence of the Contemporary Traditionalists If indeed a picture is worth a thousand words, let me begin with a few verbal snapshots. The first is of a meeting of the liturgy/chaplaincy committee at a prominent Catholic university. Seated around the table are the priest chaplain, a full-time lay chaplain, and a half dozen or so students. The topic for discussion is what chaplaincy might offer by way of special services during Lent. Several suggestions generate little response. Then a student proposes an all-night Eucharistic vigil before the exposed Blessed Sacrament. The priest chaplain is amazed, and highly skeptical of its success, but feels he must go along with the suggestion if only to prove to the committee that such practices no longer attract the young. On the evening selected a brief exposition service is held with a surprising number of students present. The priest chaplain retires, setting his clock to wake him in the middle of the night so that there is sure to be someone present especially in case of an emergency. ministry formation David M. Whalen OSFS, an Oblate of St. Francis de Sales, teaches in the University of St. Michael's College. His address is Faculty of Theology/USMC; 81 St. Mary Street; Toronto, Ontario M5S 1J4; Canada. November-December 2002 Wbalen ¯ Contemporary Traditionalists As he enters the chapel, he is astonished by what he sees. There are young people everywhere. Some are on their knees. Others are sitting on the floor against the wall. Some have a Bible in one hand and a water' bottle in the other. There are even a few young students who have fallen asleep right at the foot of the altar. A second visit several hours later shows a scene almost identical to the first. The second snapshot is of a recent ~rdination. Only one man is being ordained. The concelebrating clergy section is comfortably filled with an assortment of "fifty-something" priests in albs and stoles of various design. Seated in the congregation are two additional priests, men in their mid sixties. Neither is in clerical attire. They have concerns about the overly clerical nature of the ordination ceremony and what they consider clericalism in general. For most of their priestly life, they have been in the vanguard of theological and liturgical change. Right in front of them are seated two seminarians, each in black suit and Roman collar. One sports a bright silver earring in each ear. The final snapshot is taken on the streets of Toronto, Canada, at the outset 'of World Youth Day. Walking down the street past the university are four or five religious sisters in full habit. By full habit I mean ankle-length dress, scapular, rosary hanging alongside, and a full back veil. One concession to modernity is evident. Since they do not wear a forehead cover, glimpses of black hair can be seen. Their progression down the street is continually interrupted by groups of young people who stop and talk with them, and, while I am not privy to the conversation, it appears friendly and positive. Whoever these sisters are and wherever they are from, it is clear that they are welcome in the eyes of the youth gathering in the city. These, of course, are only three snapshots. Though I could offer many more, they seem to capture bits and pieces of what I am calling contemporary traditionalism. I am a priest and religious in my late fifties. I grew up in a traditional Roman Catholic family, attended the local parish elementary school and the local Catholic high school. I entered my religious community right out of high school. My postulancy, novitiate, and first two years of professed life preceded Vatican Council 1I. The remainder of my formation took place right in Review for Religious the midst of the council. My priestly ministry began and continues in the post-Vatican lI era. My ministry has been chiefly in education, first as a high school teacher and administrator and now for twenty years at the university level. I teach in a faculty of theology attached to a university. I have also been a member of my congregation's formation team for close to twenty years. On weekends I assist in parishes. I refer to myself as part of the "bridge" generation, that is, the generation that lived before and after Vatican My doctoral work dealt with ministerial identity. Using qualitative or thick research, I studied a group of theology students, mostly lay, for one year, looking for indications of whether, when, where, and how they appropriated a ministerial identity. Religious/ministerial identity still intrigues me. What follows in this article is some informal qualitative research, that is, an attempt to look in some depth and over an extended period of time at a particular issue. Qualitative research does not permit long-range projections, and both the writer and reader need to be aware of that limitation. On the other hand, qualitative research, even of the informal variety, may suggest that the issue under scrutiny deserves some serious investigation. For several years now I have been fascinated by the growing number of people who seem to be forging a new religious identity. Many of these people have been students in my classes. Others have been a part of our formation program at one point or another. Some come from my parish experience. I refer to these people as the contemporary traditionalists. They are men and women in their twenties and thirties. Most of them are university educated, and many are now pursuing graduate studies. Theirs is the world of cyberspace and technology. Just as I would be reluctant to leave the house in the morning without my wristwatch, they do not think of leaving their residence without cell phone and PalmPilot in hand. They are much more likely to get their daily news from I have been fascinated by the growing number of people who seem to be forging a new religio ts identity. November-December 2002 VVbalen ¯ Contem~orar[ Traditionalists the Internet than from the printed newspaper. They are educated, although their educational resources are very different from mine. While I still like to hold a book and have no difficulty roaming through the stacks in a library to find the book I want, they are much more likely to use the Internet and its resources than library stacks. I continue to be amazed as the bibliography of student essays indicates more downloaded articles than traditional "hard" text references. They have only known one pope, John Paul II. They have known the liturgy only in the vernacular. Events like Vatican II, the Vietnam war, and indeed the Persian Gulf war are all historical events for them, just as Vatican Council I and Trent were for my generation. Although their Internet abilities give them a global access, they are surprisingly apolitical. They find pictures of campus disruptions in the 1960s and 1970s mildly amusing. They are generous in volunteering for local efforts to help the poor or marginalized, but not much interested in what seem the deeper structural issues that cause such poverty. It is in the broad area of theology and religious practice, though, that their contemporary traditionalism is most evident. In moral theology, for example, specifically regarding divorce and remarriage, homosexuality, and abortion and contraception, they seem at first glance totally supportive of the church's current teaching, but as conversation continues one notices the contemporary side of their traditionalism in what I call their "exemption" or "notwithstanding" clause. They believe that marriage is for life, they do not believe in divorce or remarriage of the divorced, and yet they not only are not condemnatory of divorced and remarried people they know, but often express the conviction that such people ought to be admitted to the sacraments under certain nonspecified conditions. They see no difficulty in holding a traditional position about marriage and sometimes granting exemptions to church restrictions by way of a "notwithstanding" clause. They take a similar stand regarding homosexuality. While terms such as "intrinsic disorder" are not part of their vocabulary, they seem to believe that homosexuality ought not enjoy the same status as heterosexuality. But, expressin, g such concern about the issue, in the abstract, they are quick to cite the Review for Religious gays and lesbians they know firsthand, particularly those in generous committed relationships, as persons who should be granted an exemption to the church prohibitions. They are strongly opposed to abortions. In fact, an antiabortion protest is one of the few protests in which they will participate. They do not believe in free or recreational sex, but they seem much less concerned about artificial contraception whether used in or out of marriage. They have this relative unconcern particularly in the case of young people who they think have not yet reached a certain level of moral development. People call this theological approach cafeteria theology, a pick-and-choose theological stance, or a revival of situational ethics, but the contemporary traditionalists do not seem to see it that way at all. They seem to see it as an interim theology. I have had occasion to speak with a young man who acknowledges privately that he is gay. lie does not consider himself intrinsically disordered--in fact, the term means little to him--and yet he is willing to live by the church's current expec-tations. He supports neither the "queer culture" nor the church-sanctioned support group for homosexuals called Courage. He does not think either of these groups contributes much to the cause. He is convinced that the church's teaching will change in time and seems willing to wait for it to change. He has friends who are less patient than he is, and, while he does not agree with them, at least in some instances he seems willing to grant them an "exemption" or "notwithstanding" clause. In other areas of theology, many of these young people appear to be theologically illiterate. My generation grew up with a question-and-answer form of religious education that provided a certain primitive theological literacy along with some problematic side effects, but the contemporary traditionalists do not seem to have even a primitive theological literacy. This is true even of students who are studying theology. But the contemporary traditionalists do not seem to have even a primitive theological literacy. November-December 2002 Wbalen ¯ Contemporary Traditionalists --5.90 In one of the classes I teach, I invite students at a certain point in the course to go to their "theological treasury" and find elements that they can place in conversation with their contemporary experience. A student responded by saying, "My theological treasury is bare. Someone got in before me and robbed me of everything." His opinion seemed to be that of many in the class. While many of my generation have bemoaned the style, language, and structure of the new Catechism of the Catholic Church, I am amazed at how many students consider it one of the most valuable documents in their possession. They are more likely to have this on their bookshelf than the documents of Vatican II. It is in the broad area .of liturgy/spirituality/piety, though, that the contemporary traditionalists seem most clearly identifiable. These contemporary traditionalists are searching desperately for a genuine Christian and Catholic spirituality. Last year, for example, my introductory course in spiritual direction had the highest enrollment of any course in our faculty of theology. Class evaluations were overwhelmingly positive. While in moments of pride I am quick to think that the positive response centered on me as teacher, comments suggest that their enthusiasm was for the content, not the professor. My generation was delighted when the first home Masses began to be celebrated. Gone were the long rows of pews. Instead, friends sat around a coffee table with a relaxed and much more informal ritual. The priest, if he wore any liturgical garb at all, probably wore only a .simple stole. There was always a "shared" homily and a very warm exchange of peace before the Eucharist itself was shared. The contemporary traditionalists are clearly not excited by the casual liturgy of the 1970s. They are tired of "sharing" their feelings about the readings. One student said to me, "From grade one on, all anyone ever asked me was what I felt about this or that. What I feel now is that I need a litde more information rather than another round of everyone's feelings on the topic." Almost universally, the contemporary traditionalists are critical of the way liturgy is celebrated today. They seem to find many parish liturgies and many of the clergy incapable of creating the sacred moment for them. As for p.reaching, they Review for Religious would much rather read a passage from one of the church fathers than listen to a homily. One student said to me: "Look, I already have a degree in psychology, and frankly my parish priest's attempt to speak psychologically falls flat. If he has nothing theological to say, I wish he would just sit down and shut up!" The traditional part of the student keeps him going to church while the contemporary part is constantly searching for another option. Some contemporary traditionalists are rediscovering various pious practices in the church. One student told me that from childhood on she had wondered what the various pictures were that graced the walls of her parish church. What she was referring to are the Stations of the Cross. While surfing the net, she came upon a copy of prayers and reflections designed to accompany the Stations. Waiting for a time when she felt "safe" in walking the Stations, she came to the church and walked them and prayed them. Her comment and question to me was "Why are these such a bigsecret tooay." ~" In addition to the retrieval of many traditional devotions from the past, the more contemporary practice known as Taiz4 Prayer appears very common among the contemporary traditionalists. Taiz4 Prayer, modeled on that used by the monks of Taiz~ in France, combines simple chanted scriptural phrases, mostly in Latin, with periods of silent prayer and usually concludes with a veneration of the cross. As the snapshots I gave you at the beginning of this essay hinted, the contemporary traditionalists have no difficulty with visible manifestations of their religious beliefs. They seem somewhat intrigued by the fact that so many religious and priests have abandoned religious clothing and other religious symbols. At the same time they know very few religious. Although many of them have attended Catholic elementary and secondary schools and in some cases Catholic universities, few if any of them were The contemporary traditionalists have no difficulty with visible manifestations of their religious beliefs. November-December 2002 Whalen ¯ Contemporary Traditionalists ever taught by priests, brothers, or sisters. They are much more likely to identify sisters with the late Mother Teresa or with Whoopi Goldberg in Sister Act than with an actual still-living religious woman. And, while there is a world of difference between the late Mother Teresa and the Whoopi Goldberg version of a sister, the contemporary.traditionalists find both very enticing. One young male religious in a religious community that has a visibly distinct religious habit told me that the "habit" issue is not his issue; it is an issue for the "older" members, who still seem to be fighting for something that his generation has little time or sympathy for. This gap between many of the contemporary traditionalists and many of the current generation of religious was brought home to me vividly by a simple line from a young woman beginning consecrated life. The Canadian Film Board spent a year following this young woman through the process of applying to and eventually entering a religious community. One scene in particular drew nay attention. It shows her filling out the questionnaire sent by the community as part of the admission process. One question asks, "Have you ever dated?" The young woman turns and faces the camera with a bit of a grin, rolls her eyes upward, and says "How fifties-ish!" In many ways that comment seems to represent the attitude of the contemporary traditionalists as they confront the church and ministry and religious life today. Their issues, their lifestyle, their questions and concerns are simply different from those of stereotypical conservatives or liberals. Those ideas, those agendas, are so "fifties-ish" or so "sixties-ish"! Another difference between the contemporary traditionalists and the usual conservative or liberal "suspects" and representativFs is on the matters of married clergy and women priests. The traditional side of these young contemporaries supports an all-male celibate clergy, but for many of them what is important is not the clergy's gender or marital status, but rather its authenticity. Given the option between a celibate but incompetent male priest and a liturgy presided over by someone of the caliber of Mother Teresa, they are prepared to use their "notwithstanding" clause in favor of the woman. In their eyes, this is not inconsistency; it is yet another example of different concerns and their use of the "exception" or "notwithstanding" theology option. Review for Religious Whether these contemporary traditionalists are merely a passing blip on the great Jumbo-Tron of religion today or are a whole new picture slowly replacing an older picture it is probably too early to tell. Still, it seem to me that such contemporary traditionalists are the ones most likely to investigate consecrated life or the priesthood today. Whether the religious communities and dioceses that have assumed--by deliberate choice or simply by default--a standard conservative or liberal posture will be welcoming of them and their way of life remains to be seen. Epiphany Like one of the magi, you journey toward the Light. There's more wilderness than you would have thought, uncharted plains stretching from yesterday to remote Decembers. You could lose your courage or your way and scan the sky for twinkling clues. But it requires no gift of gold or frankincense for God to grant epiphanies. Unexpected stars have risen in your darkest nights, and always just in time. So you were not surprised at what you heard today. The magi's star, absent for a while, would of course shine forth again, be fair oasis brightening the desert of vast sky and luring, as stars do, curious travelers to the very feet of new-begotten God. Patricia Schnapp RSM November-December 2002 GUY B. WILSON A Collaborative Model of Missionary Formation Imn the past four years we have developed in Costa Pica a odel of formation for our new members. The model is based on religious and lay people working together. This article is an attempt to articulate the philosophy, theology, spirituality, and practice of our experience with this model. The model is inspired by the vision and pioneering work of our founder, Father Thomas Augustine Judge. He began an apostolic organization of laypersons, the Missionary Cenacle Apostolate,and then founded two religious congregations, one for women, the Missionary Servants of Most Blessed Trinity, and one for men, the Missionary Servants of the Most Holy Trinity. He encouraged us all to collaborate as a missionary community or family. Our Rule, constitution, and documents promote this interdependence and cooperation. The new Manual of Forma-tion for the men religious emphasizes the common history and the shared vocation we have with the other branches and takes our collaboration with them for granted. Our religious have been working in teams with laypersons, sharing gifts, ministries, and faith. We are doing so more and Guy B. Wilson ST, a member of the Missionary Servants of the Most Holy Trinity, first published this description of formation principle and practice in his congregation's newsletter, Tri-Com. He can be addressed at Cenficulo Misionero San Jos~; Apartado Postal 191-3100; Santo Domingo de Heredia; Costa Rica. Review for Religious more in our promotion of parish life and the life of pastoral centers. In these places the three groups share responsibilities, power, and decisions to enrich the ministry of evangelization and to strengthen the missionary vocation of all. In Costa Rica we have applied this pastoral model of collaboration to the formation of our men religious. In this model, the laypersons are key. They form an integral part of the formation team with the director. They share responsibilities and decisions. As they do in pastoral ministry, they gready enrich the ministry of formation. Religious and laypersons, by forming community and working together as teams, model for the seminarians the reality of the church. They form a microcosm of the church, men and women, lay and religious, married and celibate, all united in their faith and promoting the mission of Jesus. This collaboration reflects the church as the people of God, an important image articulated in the documents of the Second Vatican Council. All the baptized are called to participate, with their gifts and faith, in the mission of Jesus. Laypersons, with their practical experience of day-to-day struggles and successes and with their varied professional backgrounds, have much to offer to formation ministry. Our young men have benefited from being accompanied in their religious vocation by a psychologist and father of a family, by a mother of adolescents who is also a financial administrator, by a grandmother and pastoral coordinator, and by an experienced lay missionary. Our candidates and newly professed are in an intensive process directed towards serving the people of God. It is crucial that the people of God are intimately present in their formation. This model shows laypersons and religiou~ united through their baptismal commission in promoting the mission of Jesus. It is an important change from priestly and religious vocations being enthroned above the lay vocation. The participation of women is essential not only in the ministry of the church but also in the formation of our men religious. Their perspective on life, the gospel, faith, and motherhood enriches the formation of our men in their otherwise male-dominated world. The women who have worked on this team have helped to create an environment of trust and accessibility. The seminarians feel at home in November-December 2002 Wilson ¯ A Collaborative Model of Missionary Formation approaching them to talk and seek counsel. At the same time, because of this relationship, the women have been able to challenge our young men to mature personally and grow in their religious identity. We want our future religious to reflect, in their relationships with all and especially with women, the harmony, intimacy, love, and collaboration promoted in our devotion to the Holy Trinity. Spiritual and Theological Bases This model of collaboration is based on the vision and charism of our founder. Father Judge referred to the lay apostolic organization and the men's and women's religious congregations he founded as the Missionary Cenacle. He emphasized that we work and share together the spirit of the first Christian community, the cenacle. The cenacle (the upper room where the Jesus' followers were gathered at Pentecost) is the image and model for this formation program. The formation community comprises men and women, laypersons and religious, and people from different cultures, all guided in faith and mission by the Holy Spirit. In the interaction of the cenacle, the members of the formation community are helped to develop their various gifts for use in their mission ministry. "It is the same and only Spirit who gives all these gifts and powers, deciding which each one of us should have" (1 Co 12:11). It is the Holy Spirit who prepares us for mission. This ministry calls us to adopt a prophetic stance that flows from the spirituality and ecclesiology of our founder. He selected the cenacle as the model of the interdependence of his missionary family of religious and lay people. The renewal promoted by the Second Vatican Council also suggests a formation style of collaboration. The Triniw is the main image for the church's community and mission. The Trinity, as a model of collaboration, encourages dialogue and shared ministry in our formation endeavors. Our efforts to glorify the triune God have brought us to a commitment of collaboration in community and mission with the branches of the Missionary Cenacle, lay and religious. As the Father collaborates with the Son and Holy Spirit in distinct and specific ways to actualize the saving mission, we as a formation Review for Religious team intend to collaborate in the ministry of formation of our candidates and newly professed. We form not only a team with specific duties but also a formation community in which our faith and shared ministries testify to the life and mission of Jesus. Jesus, sent by the Father, sends his missionaries or apostles to realize his mission. As people sent by Jesus, we are designated to cooperate in the labor of the Holy Spirit in the vocational development and the missioning of our brothers. Jesus is our key and door to the mystery of the Trinity. Our devotional knowledge of the incarnation brings us to a greater intimacy with Jesus. This devotion teaches us that, with all our graces and all our defects, we are sent. As humble and grateful members of the Body of Christ, we understand that our collaboration with Jesus' mission involves using the variety of our gifts. These gifts enrich the formation ministry as we accompany the candidates and newly professed in their spiritual, human, communal, and apostolic development. This model of interdependence and collaboration has several aspects. First, the religious life and its formation are not isolated from the world. The previous model of priestly and religious formation separated seminarians from the people of God in their daily life. The seminarians lived, prayed, studied, and socialized amid priestly formators and other seminarians. Only priests, normally with an academic emphasis, were chosen to direct the seminarians. The role of the laity in their formation, if it existed, was limited to classroom teaching or to consulting on specific matters. Often this environment produced elitist attitudes. The present model of formation emphasizes helping seminarians develop their capacity to live relationally with other seminarians, lay people and religious, men and women. The Formation Team The formation team of the Missionary Servants in Costa Rica comprises a religious priest as director, a layman as associate director, and a laywoman as the pastoral supervisor. This team accompanies the propaedeutic, prenovitiate, and postnovitiate formation programs. The cooperation of laypersons increases the pool of those who can dedicate themselves to formation. In our situation this is a great advantage, for we have few religious November-December 2002 Wilson ¯ A Collaborative Model of Missionary Formation available for this ministry. Also, the laypersons, through their professional training and experience, have improved the quality of formation. Our associate director, for example, a professional psychologist, has strengthened our efforts to foster the seminarians' personal growth. He has implemented extensive workshops on personal growth, sexuality, maturity, and group dynamics. Using his professional vision and understanding of the expectations of our congregation and the needs of the church, he has selected various other professionals to accompany our young men towards maturity. Likewise, the pastoral supervisor has arranged to have our seminarians trained and evaluated in their apostolic endeavors along with our lay missionaries. The apostolates have improved significandy. Our students and the lay apostles cooperatively help one another. The participation of women in the formation program has strengthened the seminarians' ability to relate to and work with both men and women. The model produces a healthy environment for our young men and for the director. Exchange and dialogue help the seminarians and also help the director in making decisions for their sake. Likewise, open sharing with lay formators is a blessing for the personal and spiritual life of the director. By challenging me daily to become a better director and religious, the lay members of the team strengthen my vocation. On the other hand, the laypersons who participate or have participated speak of the profound spiritual, apostolic, and faith growth they experience in this exchange with religious and seminarians. They are grateful for what God is doing in their lives through this relationship. The Formation Programs The formation team is responsible for three programs: propaedeutic, prenovitiate, and postnovitiate. The programs are distinct, but are located on the same property. Each program has its own living and recreational areas. I have observed certain advantages to the proximity of the programs. First, it helps economically. One team serves the three programs, and the expenses of domestic employees, property taxes, financial administration, and so forth are reduced. Second, there is good Revie~v for Religious communal interaction. The young men in the three programs share the same Eucharistic table and the common table. This has helped to build community in number, participation, and spirit. They share sports activities and work in teams. The participants of the three programs form apostolic teams with the members of our lay branch, many of whom celebrate the daily liturgies with us. All the programs study at ITAC (Instituto Teol6gico de Am4rica Central), which was formed to educate religious. The international environment has greatly enriched the formation programs in Costa Rica. The formation team consists of members from the United States, Costa Rica, Puerto Rico, and Mexico. The candidates and newly professed are from nine different nations of Central America, the Caribbean, Colombia, Venezuela, and Mexico. At the theological institute, there are students from sixteen countries and a number of religious congregations. The cultural exchange broadens everyone's worldview and promotes the vision of one America among the Americas. The formation community includes a retired religious, another religious priest (vocation director), two members of our lay organization who work in the seminary (financial administrator and academic advisor), and lay apostles from the Missionary Cenacle Apostolate who gather in our center for formation and apostolates, sharing prayer and training with our seminarians. All the members of the team have participated in programs designated for formators. The Formation of the Team All the members of the team have participated in programs designated for formators. The programs emphasize personal and spiritual development as well as methods of sharing ministries. Most of these people have attended pr.ograms of the Instituto Central de Espiritualidad in Guatemala under the leadership of Father Carlos Cabarrus SJ. They also attend theology classes at L-Y99-- November-December 2002 Wilson ¯ A Collaborative Model of Missionary Formation ITAC. They gather in retreat once a year and pray together frequently. All members of the team participate in spiritual direction. Concerns have been voiced in regard to the role of laypersons in the formation of our religious. There is a concern that, in this collaborative model of formation, our professed will not develop a clear identity as religious. From my observation over these years, our young men's religious identity is actually reinforced. In particular, the laity demand and challenge our candidates and professed to be faithful to their vocation and religious way of life. They likewise encourage our young professed to share the richness of their studies and spiritual and apostolic training with them for the benefit of the mission. It is quite evident that lay participation in their formation reinforces the vocation of our religious. A clear indicator of this is that religious priests formed in this model and now serving in our missions show a clear and strong identity in their vocation as religious. They are forming good community with their confreres on mission, and they work well with the laity. Specific Abilities This model comes with risks and challenges. Although it is based on the experience of pastoral teams functioning in our missions, the formation ministry requires specific abilities to accompany our young men in their development as persons, Christians, and religious. There are few books or guidelines to follow. The formation team has to dedicate itself to dialogue and communication. It must make a deliberate decision to form a community that shares faith, life, and vision. The heart of the work of the formation team is to model a communal spirit that collaborates on many levels. The team has to adapt continually to the new realities of this generation of young men. This is a new model, and in many respects it is prophetic. It is important that team members dialogue with other formators, with council members, and with spiritual directors to ensure the effectiveness and health of the formation. And, of course, the team must be united and convinced of the model even though people criticize it. Many will not understand it, including at ti~nes our own seminarians. Review for Religious All in all, the model is developing positively and serving well the needs of the congregation. It is producing a healthy environment for the seminarians' formation, a healthiness that includes taking some prudent risks. Bees Canning bees and picking bees, long skirts pinned up front and back, gingham aprons - blue, green, yellow-checked (diversity skirting uniformity). Noon hours in sweaty kitchen or out in sunbaked yard snipping beans, podding peas, peeling scalded tomatoes - coming and going like flocks of sparrows alighting in waves, laughing, pecking at bits of news, filling tubs of ready-to-can. Sticky evenings in berry patch or orchard, filling buckets with raspberries, blueberries, currants, climbing trees for cherries, red and black - a thousand locusts chattering between the rows, whisking clean every bush and branch. Chapel bell intoning silence. Then instant stillness - hundreds of nuns processing quietly along dusty lane toward stately motherhouse. Mary Joseph Maher IHM November-December 2002 MARY KAY DOBROVOLNY Mary Magdalene: An Icon for Women Religious sisters and brothers About six years ago I fell in love for the first time. The experience opened entire new worlds to me and taught me a great deal about honesty, integrity, inti-macy, and myself in relationship with others. It also brought tremendous conflict and turmoil. I was inex-perienced in matters of the heart, and I had made a public commitment to live vowed religious life, includ-ing celibacy, for at least three years. Being in my sec-ond year of this three-year commitment, I prayed daily for the grace to live my life with faithfulness and integrity as I discerned whether to leave my religious ¯ community or stay as a vowed member. Today I am very happily a perpetually professed Sister of Mercy, having made final vows in July 1998. But I remember clearly those days of my first love and the struggle in the months thereafter to freely choose vowed religious life. Beyond the intense grief for the path not chosen, there was the great void of role mod-els for how to negotiate a love relationship while choosing to remain a vowed member of a religious community. Loud in my consciousness were the myr- Mary Kay Dobrovolny RSM is pursing a doctorate in New Testament studies at Vanderbilt University. Her address is 3335 Acklen Avenue; Nashville, Tennessee 37212. Review for Religious iad stories of women who left in the 1960s and 1970s to marry or pursue a committed relationship with another. Deafening by its silence was the reluctance of current members to speak of their own experiences of falling in love and being in love. As a new member I began to wonder if it was possible to fall in love and choose to remain part of vowed religious life. To help fill the void of role models, this paper will present Mary Magdalene as an icon for celibate loving and apostolic mission, using the resurrection story found in the Gospel of John. This passage speaks of a love and intimacy between Mary Magdalene and Jesus. In addition, as the first to encounter the resurrected Jesus and receive the commission to "go and tell," Mary Magdalene becomes the "apostle to the apostles." This paper will (1) explore who Mary Magdalene is, sorting through the myths in the tradition; (2) examine the portrayal of Mary Magdalene in chapter 20 of John's Gospel; and (3) note some insights suggested by this examination regarding celibate loving and apostolic mission for vowed women religious. Sorting through the Myths of the Tradition When I began working on this paper, a theologically edu-cated friend of mine gave me an article on Luke 7:36-50, a pas-sage the New American Bible calls "The Pardon of the Sinful Woman.''1 I looked at my friend, smiled, thanked her for the article, and then said, "You do know that the woman in this pas-sage is not Mary Magdalene, don't you?" Gasping slightly, she said, "I can never keep those Marys straight." My friend is not alone in this, and she has had much help combining the women of Scripture. In the tradition of the West, the unnamed woman in Luke 7, Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany, and sometimes even the woman who was caught in adultery ~ln 8) have all been interwoven and confused. The confusion can be traced as far back as the 6th century. Pope Gregory the Great (ca. 540-604) merged the identities of these women into one woman in sev-eral homilies. Since that time, veneration of Mary Magdalene in the West has diverged from the Gospels' portrayal of her. While none of the biblical women is called "a prostitute," Mary Magdalene's most frequent portrayal in stories, legends, art, and worship has been as a prostitute and repentant sinner. November-December 2002 Dobrovolny ¯ Mary Magdalene The East has looked at Mary Magdalene as equal to the apostles. The combination of these women's identities was not shared by the Eastern churches, which have treated the women as sep-arate individuals. The East has looked at Mary Magdalene as equal to the apostles. Shortly after the time of Pope Gregory the Great, Modestus, patriarch of Jerusalem, said that Mary Magdalene, the myrrh-bearer, was "chief among the women disciples," a teacher of other holy women, a lifelong virgin, and a martyr.2 While the popular mind continues to think of Mary Magdalene as a repentant prostitute, recent scholarship is replac-ing this image with a view of her as faithful disciple, witness to the resurrection, and apostle to and with the twelve. This is a retrieval in the West of a previously held image, not a new creation. Each of the Gospels portrays Mary Magdalene as a follower of Jesus through his Galilean ministry, a wit-ness and mourner of his crucifixion and death, a witness of the empty tomb, the first to whom the risen Jesus appears, and the first to proclaim his resurrection. Accordingly, Hippolytus (ca. 170-235), bishop of Rome, named her apostola apostolorum, apostle to the apostles. This title, revived by recent scholars, was repeated as late as Thomas Aquinas. Narrative Analysis of John 20 John 20:1-18 is a single narrative unit divided into three scenes. Verses 1-2 depict Mary Magdalene's discovery of the empty tomb, verses 3-10 describe the race between Peter and the beloved disciple to the tomb, and verses 11-18 find Mary Magdalene alone, weeping outside the tomb. She went to the tomb of the crucified Jesus "early. while it was still dark." hnmediately after discovering that the stone had been removed from the tomb, she ran to tell Peter and the beloved disciple that "they have taken the Lord from the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him." This is the first of three times that she announces that the body of Jesus has been removed from the tomb (see also 20:13 and 15). This announcement to Review for Religious Peter and the beloved disciple is the catalyst for the second scene, in which these two characters race to the tomb to dis-cover it empty, albeit for linen wrappings. After these two have returned home (20:10), Mary Magdalene stands weeping beside the tomb. Still weeping, she stoops and looks inside, continuing her search for Jesus' body. Her weeping is mentioned twice in one verse, suggesting both intense frustration and intense grief. She stays in this place of grief and pain rather than return home like the other disciples. She turns toward suffering, pain, and death.3 The setting for Mary Magdalene's search for the body of Jesus is both a graveyard and a garden. Her weeping in the graveyard is reminiscent of the grief of Mary of Bethany upon the death of her brother Lazarus, and the garden On 19:41) brings to mind both the primeval male-female intimacy of Adam and Eve in Genesis and the passionate love in the Song of Songs (4:12-5:1; 6:2-3; 8:13).4 Mary looks into the tomb and sees "two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying" (20:12). Rather than deliver a message of hope, comfort, or resurrection, these angels question her: "Woman, why are you weeping?" This question calls attention to her tears for a third time. Mary reit-erates the cause of her pain: "They have taken my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him" (20:2 and 13). Apparently not awed by the angels, Mary turns from the tomb to see the unrecognized Jesus. A conversation with this "gar-dener" takes place, three exchanges between them. Jesus asks the reason for her weeping--tears mentioned now a fourth and final time. The intensity of Mary's grief and worry and serves to fulfill the prediction Jesus made earlier in the Gospel: "Amen, Amen, I say you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice" (16:20). In this Gospel, Mary Magdalene is the only character who weeps and mourns when she can "no longer see [Jesus]" (16:19).s Soon the rest of Jesus' prediction will be fulfilled: "You will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy" (16:20 and 22). Jesus asks not only the reason for her weeping, but also "Whom are you seeking?" (20:15). She reiterates for the third time her search for the crucified Jesus, asking the "gardener" to help her find him. The focus on Mary's unrelenting search for . November-December 2002 Dobrovolny ¯ Mary Magdalene the crucified Jesus echoes the lover's intense search for her beloved in the Song of Songs: Upon my bed at night I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought .him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer. "1 will rise now and go about the city, in the street~ and-ih the squares; I will seek him whom my soul loves." I sought him, but found him not. The sentinels found me, as they went about in the city. "Have you seen him whom my soul loves?" Scarcely had I passed them when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him and would not let him go until I brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me. (Sg 3:1-4, NRSV) In this passage and in the narrative about Mary at Jesus' tomb, the women are seeking and failing to find their beloved. The searches occur in a garden (Sg 4:12-5:1; 6:2-3; 8:13; Jn 19:41-42). The women inquire where their beloved might be. And, as we will see shortly, neither woman wants to release her beloved once he has been found. This is stated strongly in the Song of Songs 3:4: "I held him, and.would not let him go until I brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me." The second exchange is marked by recognition. Mary Magdalene has not recognized the resurrected Jesus by sight, but now, his voice sounding her name, she recognizes him. This recognition reminds us of the shepherd who "calls his own by name" and they "follow him because they know his voice" (10:3- 4). Mary exclaims, "Rabbouni!" (meaning Teacher). This title and "Lord," the title she has used before (20:2, 13, and also 15), are titles Jesus has mentioned as fitting ones: "You call me Teacher and Lord--and you speak correctly, for indeed I am" (13:13). Before Mary's "Rabbouni!" the Greek text says of her (using a participle) strapbeisa. This can simply mean baying turned, but it can also mean baying changed inwardly, baying been converted.6 The New Revised Standard Version uses the former meaning of physical motion, saying "she turned." But she has already turned from the tomb toward this "gardener" (20:14); turning physically again does not make narrative sense. It s~iems instead that, hear- Review for Religious ing her name spoken by that beloved voice, she is inwardly changed by that recognition. Most likely the transformation of her weeping and mourning into the joy described in John 16:20 and 22 is at the heart of that change. In the third exchange, Jesus presents Mary Magdalene with two commands: "Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father" and "Go to my brothers and sisters and say to them . " In read-ing between the lines, it can be difficult to get the tone of Jesus' commands and their impact on Mary, whose weep-ing has just been transformed into joy. Some commentators try to find a fault in her or her belief, which does not permit her to touch Jesus as Thomas is later invited to do (20:27).7 Others have written about a "decided brutality" in Jesus' rebuke and rejection of her.8 Both of these interpretations miss textual clues. Far from being found at fault, Mary is given, a privileged position within the Gospel of John as the first to see the risen Jesus and the first to be commissioned to proclaim the resurrection. Jesus does not find fault with her--which suggests that the Gospel's author does not intend the reader to do so either. As for the idea of "brutality," Mary does not respond as one who has been rebuked or rej.ected by her beloved Jesus. There is no more weeping. Instead, with jubilation Mary proclaims, "I have seen the Lord!" (20:18). Still, inasmuch as Mary's inclination to hold on to her beloved after seeking him unrelentingly with intense longing is quite understandable (as in Sg 3:4), Jesus' command is per-plexing. It can only be understood in light of his explanation: "for I have not yet ascended to the Father." Later in this same verse, Jesus tells Mary to announce "I am ascending . " The text seems to indicate that Jesus is in a transitional phase in which he is in the process of ascending.9 The appearance of Jesus at this threshold moment between his resurrection from the dead and his ascension to the Father is unique, and it Hearing her name spoken by that beloved voice, she is inwardly changed by that recognition. November-December 2002 Dobrovolny * Mary Magdalene involves only Mary Magdalene. By the time Jesus appears and invites Thomas to touch him (20:27), he has already ascended to the Father and returned, bringing and bestowing the Advocate upon the disciples (20:22). Mary's encounter with Jesus is recognizable as a uniquely privileged one. After telling Mary not to hold on to him, Jesus commis-sions her to "go to my brothers and sisters and tell them, 'I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God'" (20:17). There are three noteworthy pieces of this com-mission: (1) the phrase tous adelphous mou, translated above as "my brothers and sisters"; (2) the phrase "to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God"; and (3) the verb tense used in the commission to "go and tell." The phrase "my brothers and sisters" denotes a new rela-tionship between Jesus and his followers and among his fol-lowers. 1° Previously, in his final discourse to the disciples, Jesus has called his disciples friends rather than slaves (15:15), and, while hanging on the cross, he has created a new relationship between his mother and the beloved disciple (19:26-27). Now (20:17) he proclaims that all members of the believing com-munity are his brothers and sisters and, by implication, broth-ers and sisters to each other. This new relationship recalls and fulfills the imagery in the Johannine Prologue: "But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God" (1:12). The fulfillment of the words of the Prologue is made more explicit in what follows: "I am ascending to my Father andyour Father, to my God and your God" (20:17). The rhythm of these words recalls the covenant Ruth made with her mother-in-law Naomi: "Your people shall be my people and your God my God" (Ruth 1:16). Despite the differences in race, Ruth, a Moabite, casts her lot with her Hebrew mother-in-law, mak-ing their futures forever intertwined. In the same way, Jesus proclaims that, despite the differences (see 14:6: "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me"), a new covenantal family relationship has been established. This new covenantal family relationship encompasses all of the believing community in the postresurrection community. Mary Magdalene is commissioned to "go to my brothers and Review for Religious sisters and tell them . " The imperative verb poreuou (go) is in the present tense. A present imperative "generally denotes a command to continue to do an action or to do it repeatedly.''11 Thus, Mary Magdalene is commissioned, not for a one-time telling of her revelation of the risen Jesus (such as that recorded to the disciples in 20:18), but to go repeatedly to the commu-nity, continuing to tell the story of her encounter with the risen Jesus.2 The Gospel of John does not narrate any additional con-versation between the risen Jesus and Mary Magdalene. Instead, Mary is presented as going immediately to the disciples to pro-claim: "I have seen the Lord!" Her weeping and mourning have been transformed into joy. Her intense search-ing for her beloved has been transformed into assured confidence of continuing in her rela-tionship with Jesus. Her encounter with the risen Jesus establishes her authority among the disciples. And, through her conveying the mes-sage of the risen Jesus, a new relationship among the community of believers is estab-lished, enabling them to be "brothers and sisters" in the one God and Father of them all. It is on the authority of her witness and the new relationship that she is given to proclaim that the tradition correctly bestows upon her the identity of apostola apostolorum, "apostle to the apostles." Through her conveying the message of the risen Jesus, a new relationship among the community of believers is established, enabling them to be "brothers and sisters" in the one God. Iconic Insights for Celibate Love and Apostolic Mission The command in the Gospel of john is clear: "Love one another" (13:34, 15:12). The Gospel further indicates that it is through our love for one another that we will be recognized as Nove~nber-Decenlber 2002 Dobrovolny ¯ Mary Magdalene disciples of Jesus--that Jesus will be made known in our world. As apostolic women religious, we do love deeply. We are drawn by Love and called by Love. We express our love in prayer, in community, in ministry. Sometimes we eveh fall in love. I used to fear falling in love and being in love. I thought it would jeopardize my identity as a Sister of Mercy. I thought it would place my ability and my commitment to live the vow of celibacy at too great ~ risk. I was wrong. Through experiences of falling in love and being in love, I have been drawn deeper into the mystery of Love. Through my love experiences, I have been taught how to love, and I have been taught what it means to be another person's "beloved." With my own longing for the touch of another, I discovered the depth of my longing for God. Through the words of another person's longing for me, I have heard God's longing for me. These love experiences have drawn me deeper into the mysterious and mystical love of God. I am not saying that as apostolic women religious we need to have one or more experiences of falling in love and being in love to be drawn deeply into the mystical love of God. I am simply saying that it can happen through these love experiences because it has happened. I would venture to guess that many of us have been taught how to love God as God's own beloved through experiences of loving another and being loved. That is part of the mystery of the incarnation, the revelation of God in human form. As one who has dared to love deeply, I resonate with Mary Magdalene, who dared to love Jesus deeply. Through my expe-rience of choosing not to follow my beloved and commit myself to that love relationship, I identify with her intense longing, her intense searching, her utter grief. There is a point in which it seems that tears will never end. In the midst of risking to love deeply as vowed religious, we risk being led to the depths of our pain, our longing, our search-ing. But a wise woman once taught me that, if I am unwilling or unable to feel the depth of my own pain, or longing, or grief, then I am also not able to journey with another person to the depths of her or his pain.~3 Our choices do impact our ministry. By feeling the depths of our pain and our grief, our hearts are opened to feel the pain of others around us and of our world. As apostolic women religious, we are called to feel that pain, to Review for Religious name that pain, to witness to the suffering of those around us. We are called to stand with those who are marginalized, to mourn and weep with them for all that is not right in our world. We are called to name destructive violence for what it is, to name the things that rob individuals, communities, and coun-tries of fullness of life. Tears can seem unending. Mary Magdalene chose to stay at the tomb; she chose to stand in the emptiness, in the void, in the confusion, in the pain. She chose to weep and mourn. She continued her search for her beloved Jesus. She sought him out, persisting in the search even when others did not. Her actions are characterized by initiative, persistence, and determination. Her search betrays an intense longing and yearning. As apostolic women religious, we too are called to stand in the emptiness of a broken world. We are called to search for our beloved God in the midst of this brokenness. We are called to long and yearn for a world that is imbued with the presence and love of God in every cor-ner, in every action between individual persons, and in all diplo-macy and business between countries. We are called to work for such a world with our own efforts, our own initiative, per-sistence, and determination. Mary Magdalene searched for what she knew was possible to find--the body of her crucified Jesus, her beloved. Ultimately, instead of finding what it seemed humanly possible to find, she was found by a divine reality beyond her fondest hope; she was found by the risen Jesus. In turning toward Jesug, in hearing her name called by her beloved, she was transformed. She was able to turn to a new.reality and allow her life and the world she knew to be transformed. As apostolic women religious, we are called to model Mary Magdalene. We are called to seek out and work toward what we know is realistically possible. In our ministerial commit-ments, we are called to set attainable goals and strive to meet them. We are called not to be overwhelmed by the extent of brokenness in our world, not to let ourselves be paralyzed by grief and despair. In our searching and striving, we are called to have an open heart that is ready to be transformed, a heart ready to be found by a divine reality beyond our imagination. The words of the risen Jesus are again perplexing: "Do not hold on to me." After such intense searching and longing, it is Noventber-December 2002 Dobrovolny * Mary Magdalene Like Mary Magdalene, we are commissioned to proclaim the living God here in our midst. completely understandable to want to hold on to whatever sign of life and love, whatever divine revelation, we see in the midst of a broken and pain-filled world. Yet love and the things of this world are not ours to hold on to. With open hands and open hearts, we instead hear Jesus' words: "Go to my brothers and sisters." Like Mary Magdalene, we are commissioned to proclaim the living God here in our midst. Mary Magdalene was in a privileged place with a unique encounter with the risen but not-yet-ascended Jesus. Her encounter cannot be replicated. Yet, as apostolic women reli-gious, we sometimes do not rec-ognize our own privileged place. We belong to religious commu-nities that nurture and support our spiritual journey, that help us integrate contemplation into our lives of ministry. Time and money are provided for ongoing spiritual direction and annual retreats. We are joined by others who are on this same jour-ney; together we have companionship and a common language to name our experiences. Many days I take all of this for granted. But, like Mary Magdalene, we women religious are in a privileged place in our world. In our lives, contemplation opens us to divine revelafons that may be unique to our world-- and maybe our world desperately needs to hear them from us. Through Mary Magdalene's encounter with him, the risen Jesus instituted a new relationship among his followers. He called his followers his "brothers and sisters" and said that his Father is their Father, and his God their God (20:17). We live in a fractured and broken world and a fractured and broken church. Like Mary Magdalene, we are called to give witness to a vision of unity. We are called to be sisters to each other in our communities so that we can be, beyond our communities, sisters to our world. Like Ruth's covenantal relationship with her mother-in-law Naomi, we are called to unity with others, no matter how different from us. This is the vision Mary Magdalene was given by the risen Jesus, and it is offered to us as well. Review for Religious As apostolic women religious, not only are we called to weep and mourn with those at the margins of our society and with the victims of the violence in our world. We are also called to proclaim the power of the resurrection. We are Galled to pro-claim a God who loves us deeply and calls each of us by name. We are called to proclaim a God who transforms lives, filling the empty tombs of our lives with life unimaginable. We are called to proclaim a God who raises the dead to life and offers life eternal. Like Mary Magdalene, the premibre apostola apostolo-rum, "apostle to the apostles," we are called to proclaim an Easter faith to a world that is ravenously hungry for God. May God find us willing. Notes ' The story in Luke 7:36-50 is of an unnamed woman who bathes the feet of Jesus with her tears, kissing them and anointing them with ointment. The setting is the home of a Pharisee who neglected the customary act of hospitality of washing his guest Jesus' feet upon his arrival in his home. 2 Modestus of Jerusalem, PG 86, cols. 3273-3276, as quoted in Susan Haskins, Mary Magdalen, Myth and Metaphor (New York: Harcourt Brace, 1993), p. 107. 3 This is emphasized by Dorothy A. Lee, "Turning from Death to Life: A Biblical Reflection on Mary Magdalene (John 20:1-18)," Ecumenical Review 50 (1998): 112-120. 4 See E Scott Spencer, "'You Just Don't Understand' (or Do You?): Jesus, Women, and Conversation in the Fourth Gospel," in A Feminist Companion to John, ed. Amy-Jill Levine and Marianne Blickenstaff, Vol. 4 of Feminist Companion to the New Testament and Early Christian Writings (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002, antic-ipated). 5 Colleen M. Conway, Men and Women in the Fourth Gospek Gender and Johannine Characterization (SBLDS 167; Atlanta: SBL, 1999), p. 193. 6 See John 12:40; BAGD, 2nd ed., p. 771. 7 Interpretations that place a fault on Mary Magdalene have been found as early in the tradition as Ambrose and Jerome. For the history of interpretation of this verse, see Harold W. Attridge, "Don't Be Touching Me: Recent Feminist Scholarship on Mary Magdalene," in A Feminist Companion to John. 8 See especially Alison Jasper, "Interpretative Approaches to John 20:1-18: Mary at the Tomb of Jesus," ST 47 (1993): 107-118. November-December 2002 Dobrovolny ¯ Mary Magdalene 9 This interpretation has been in the tradition as early as Origen. See Attridge, "Don't Be Touching Me," pp. 3-4. 10 While many translations, including N'JB, NAB, and NRSV, trans-late adelphous simply as "brothers," there is no good reason not to use the inclusive translation "brothers and sisters." There are a substan-tial number of places in both Koine and Attic Greek in which the plural adelphoi refers to both brothers and sisters, not just brothers. See BAGD, pp. 15-16. 11 David Alan Black, Learn to Read New Testament Greek, rev. ed. (Nashville: Broadman and Holman, 1994), p. 168. ,2 This provides further evidence for the appropriateness of the inclusive translation of tous adelphous mou as "my brothers and sis-ters." 13 My thanks to my former CPE supervisor Rosemary Ferguson OP for teaching me this lesson. Child of Mary The presbytery garden, after Mass, is busy with departing worshipers, mostly taking the shortcut to their cars; only Patrick, pauper of the parish and carless, solitary wanderer-about- town, seems unready to be gone. A single point of stillness in our midst, he lingers by the weathered blue and white of o~r Lady, in her privet bower, hands in his pockets and a cigarette - unlit and apparently forgotten - casually tilted between his lips. It's not the first time that I've seen him there, at Mary's shrine under the conker-trees, in that same relaxed, attentive posture, head bent in unobtrusive reverence and his eyes, as now, remotely focused on something only he is privy to. Ian A.T. White Review for Religious PHILIP ARMSTRONG Lonely and Small: Religious Brothers' Situation Z ose with long memories may recall a novelty song the rics of which ran, "I'm a lonely little petunia in an onion patch . . . all I do is cry all day." The catchy melody and much repetition were probably more responsible for the song's burning itself into the memory than any depth of meaning, but the plaintive cry of a single common flower that finds itself surrounded by a crop of onions tugs at least minimally at our heartstrings. The poor litde petunia, no matter how attractive, cannot help feeling overwhelmed. It grieves in its isolation. Latter-Day Petunias I suggest that religious brothers are experiencing something of the lonely petunia's plight in today's church and world. The brothers' existence, let alone their impact, is nearly impercep-tible. They are much less noticeable than the clergy, who, like onions, are rather conspicuous. Metaphorically speaking, the church cultivates onions assiduously, and in more than one way people keep being reminded of their existence. Few take notice of a few petunias scattered here and there among them, eager to have a beneficial impact on the church. No wonder the brother is sometimes tempted to cry all day about being practically invis-ible and irrelevant. Philip Armstrong CSC last wrote for us in September-October 2001. His address is P.O. Box 460; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. November-December 2002 Armstrong ¯ Lonely and Small But that would be surrendering to self-pity, and there is really no reason for it. Brothers, however hidden, do in fact accomplish enormous amounts of good through multiple forms of ministry. Brothers by all means must reflect regularly on the relevance of their vocation. Doing so can increase their capac-ity and determination to continue serving God's people in prac-tical and concrete ways. It is not my intent to prove the situation of the brother, for it should be self-evident to anyone closely and objectively observing the working of the church's hierarchical structure thirty-eight years after the Second Vatican Council's dogmatic constitution on the church, Lumen gentium. There, in chapter 2, the council fathers remind the faithful that all the people of God constitute the church, but make it clear in chapter 3 that "the church is hierarchical," with positions of higher and lower authority in it. By implication, then, the concept of horizontal authority, lending itself more to equality than to degree of dis-tinction, is set aside. A wisp of cynicism might drift in here, in language reminiscent of George Orwell's Animal Farm: All God's people are equal, but some are more equal than others. True, at times the roles of these leaders have been circum-scribed by expectations of the faithful. Clerics of whatever rank have always been somewhat limited in their practice of min-istry by various expectations that church members have, some-times by reason of their limited education, sometimes because they make rarely make use of their membership, sometimes for other reasons. The laity were able to se~ this plainly enough. They have been able to see, too, that religious sisters, despite their goodwill, talents, and sacrificial dedication, often had their activities arbitrarily limited. But still, in the case of both clerics and nuns, the laity have long had a clear, consistent image of them in the scheme of things. Not so in the case of religious brothers. In the small world of parochial or diocesan secondary education during the first two-thirds of the 20th century, brothers indeed were visible, for they figured prominently in the plans of bishops and pastors as the logical educators of adolescent boys. Outside that world, however, brothers' visibility ceased. There were almost no brothers in ministry outside their own institutions. So, if you were not the parent of a boy in a brothers' school, you just did Review for Religiotts not know any brothers. If you were such a parent, you probably knew them only in their professional and institutional capacity. Visible or Not Yet conciliar, synodal, and papal statements continue to remind us that the brothers' life is a needed, purposeful, valid, blessed state of life among the people of God. The brothers' life has been an enduring part of the church and has been affirmed and approved repeatedly over the ages, both by the hierarchy and by those benefiting from the brothers' ministries. The vowed life has demanded and permitted adaptations befit-ting the "signs of the times" regarding current needs of church and society. None of these factors, as we look into the stark reality of membership trends today, changes the perilous situ-ation in which vowed commitment finds itself as a way of life in the church. Who could blame today's brothers, lonely little petunias, for crying, if they avoided sobs of self-pity and merely shed a few silent tears of loneliness amid feelings of irrelevance? A Proposal Allow me make a proposal here that is simple, radical, and perhaps revolutionary. Recent research and writing on forward-looking ecclesiology and theology has been done by such authors as Cletus Wessels OP, Sandra Schneiders IHM, Kenan Osborne OFM, Joan Chittister OSB, and Ronald Rolheiser OMI.~ It would be helpful if they supported the concept behind nay proposal. Except for Osborne in a very general way, they do not, so far as I know. Nor are there incontrovertible scriptural or patristic citations I can lean upon. Yet in experience, common sense, and urgent pastoral need, there seems to be adequate foundation for this proposal: I believe religious life, that is, vowed commitment to a life of service to the church and world through the public profes-sion of the evangelical counsels, should be raised to the status of a sacrament in the Roman Catholic Church. I ~nake this proposal for two reasons. First, both matrimony and orders are recognized by the people of God as sacramental moments in which God's providential presence is at work in a special way and as symbols of God's continuing activity among November-December 2002 Armstron~ ¯ Lonel.~ and Small us. These sacraments touch the lives of those receiving the sacra-ments, those who witness their reception, and those who receive the ministrations of parents and priests. Currently, vowed com-mitment is recognized as only a "sacramental" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, §1667), that is, "a sacred sign which bears a resemblance to the sacraments." Sacramentals are meant to dispose individuals to receive the sacraments. Yet religious life, in its purpose and its demands, ranks logically with the sacra-ments of matrimony and orders as equally exacting, equally needed, equally exemplary, and equally rewarding. Second, the raison d'etre of religious life goes far beyond individual commitment and participation in the common life of an approved congregation. Pronouncing the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience demands of the those making this pub-lic commitment the express intention of reaching out in gener-ous, loving service to others and also of being a visible witness to the gospel values that run counter to pleasure, wealth, and power. In short, vowed commitment constitutes a way of life modeled perfectly by Jesus in the gospels. Besides the individ-ual and congregational covenants, there are perceptible public consequences of religious profession from which the whole of society benefits. Who can ignore the symbolic impact and value vowed com-mitment could have as a sacrament? If the church, as we are informed, periodically evaluates the sacramental system with a view to keeping it optimally relevant for the people of God, now is the time to exercise that prerogative once again and bring commitment by the vows of religion to the level of recognition and acceptance it deserves. If the dearth of vocations to lay religious life is to be effec-tively addressed from within the church, if those who have supervisory and teaching authority in the church are to heighten the awareness of the people of God to this form of life and ser-vice in yhe church, then I suggest that no better way exists than to bestow the character of sacrament on vowed commitment in the religious life. What would that entail? Sacraments Then and Now The church gives as its traditional definition of sacrament: Reviev) for Religious "an outward sign instituted by Christ to give grace" (Baltimore Catechism). The Catechism of the Catholic Church (§1131) supplies the same definition, slightly elaborated. With all due respect, I suggest this description is neither adequate nor entirely appropriate today. Acknowledging that the present sacramental system was developed over the course of centuries, that only since 1150 have we specified seven, and that the system remains open to review and revision in the light of new insights and the needs of the times (Sacrosanctum concilium, §62), I propose the following definition: "A sacrament is a meaningful symbol first exemplified in the life of Jesus and today incarnated through him in key human moments or events publicly celebrated by the worshiping community as a sign and promise of life in the Spirit and of bonding among the people of God." Here I suggest less emphasis on exegetical proof of a sacra-ment's being "instituted by Christ" and on its "giving grace" ex opere operato. I would rather the focus be put on the gospel rev-elation of Jesus' participation in significant events in the spiri-tual development of individuals and groups and on how those events enrich their personal relationship with God, invite them to ongoing conversion, and give promise of growth arising out of continuously augmented relationships. From this perspec-tive I believe Jesus' conversation at the well with the Samaritan woman and later with her fellow townspeople (Jn 4:1-42) illus-trates a sacramental moment, as does the cure of the demoniac in the country of the Gerasenes (Mk 5:1-20). In both cases sig-nificant individual impact opens the door to community con-version and further orientation toward God. Other examples could be the wedding at Cana (Jn 2:1-11), the multiplication of the loaves and fishes (Lk 12:9-17), Lazarus (Jn 11:1-44), the man born blind (Jn 9:1-41), and Zacchaeus (Lk 19:1-10). According to the current definition, a sacrament stresses the individual's readiness and participation; that is, each sacra-ment's salvific effects relate primarily to the recipient. The ben-efit is bestowed directly on the person(s) being baptized, confirmed, ordained, anointed, forgiven, married, or nourished by Christ's Body and Blood. On the other hand, in the light of recent research leading to a more profound understanding of the human person, the focus seems to be moving toward a com-munity- centered interpretation. November-December 2002 Armstrong ¯ Lonely and Small Such a sacramental system is perceived as productive of new, restored, or improved relationships and a wider, more knowl-edgeable and conscious participation in the administration of each sacrament; it presumes that a communal enrichment is more desirable than a benefit chiefly or only for an individual. The emphasis switches from ex opere operato (individual benefit from grace already won by Christ) to ex opere operantis (individual and community intention to receive and benefit from grace con-stantly available through Christ). The latter effect is "from the recipient's own activity" (ex opere operantis) and can be under-stood as applying not only to an individual recipient but also to the witnessing, supportive community of worshipers. The indi-vidual's participation in the reception of a sacrament draws in, involves, and impacts the entire worshiping community. Playing It Out So considered, baptism can more readily be seen as the com-munity's welcoming another member into God's family, a fam-ily that seeks to extend God's reign on earth. Confirmation marks a communal response of support for the individual's maturing affirmation of fundamental faith. The Eucharist-- both as celebration and as nourishment--is the perfect bond uniting God's people. Holy orders and matrimony are the com-munity's affirmation of and blessing on individuals' vocational and lifestyle choices in their seeking of God. The community's example helps the individuals to do the same. Reconciliation is clearly community-oriented because the individuals' failings impact the entire assembly, and so the community's forgiveness, encouragement, and support are essential in the individuals' battle with human weakness and willfulness. The anointing of the sick is the worshiping community's laying on of hands, even if figuratively, to show oneness with, care of, and support for an ailing member; it is a reminder of how interdependent we are as the people of God. Why Not? It is from this view of the sacramental system that I pro-pose raising religious life to the level of formal sacrament, I see Review for Religious no more effective way to reestablish the ecclesial significance of vowed commitment. I will not elaborate here on the appro-priateness of including other forms of commitment to the ser-vice of the people of God (for example, appointments or elections to church office, including the permanent diaconate and most other offices, even temporary ones, oriented toward the pastoral care of the community). Vghat more fitting way to welcome a pastor into the midst of the flock than by a commu-nal sacramental celebration of the significance and symbolism of that pastoral office? These and even more possibilities would, I believe, inaugurate anaong the people of God a better under-standing of how communal (in and through the church) the relationship between an individual and God is. In the process, knowledge of and respect for the religious life would be aug-mented, along with encouragement to join its ranks. Juridic Implications Were vowed commitment to become a sacrament, would that not, as some suggest, expose this way of life, even in exempt congregations (those approved by and directly responsible to the Holy Father and exempt from overall juridic control by the local ordinary), to greater control by local ordinaries? I believe the answer contains two components. First, the church already has the authority to interpret the evangelical counsels, to regulate them in practice, and to establish lifeforms that implement them (LG §43). The church's authority over religious life is acknowledged further, for example, in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§§919, 927,944) and in the Vatican II document Ad genres (§~18, 40). Thus, the question is not whether the church would assume an authority it did not have before, but whether local ordinaries would get some juris-diction over exempt communities that they did not have before. As the above citations indicate, even exempt religious commu-nities must work with and by the authority of the local ordi-nary, in accord with his overall pastoral plan. With the revised understanding of "sacrament" proposed above, I contend that there would be no more control than before. Second, emphasis would be placed, not on consecrated life as sign, but on vowed commitment as promise; that is, not on November-December 2002 Armstron~ " Lonel~ and Small the already but on the notyet. It is the latter that witnesses to the religious life's prophetic mission. A supervisory role, even though indirect and informal, would then seem to fall to the worship-ing community at large. Vowed religious would be accountable to the whole body for living up to the promises they made and thereby helping the entir

Issue 54.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ \Vashington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This perlnission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional protnotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 166 180 Jiving reJigious ife Come Follow Me: Reflections on Some Current Theories of Religious Life Elizabeth McDonough OP suggests that the healthiness of religious life is not so much a matter of reconciling consecration and mission as it is a matter of finding a consistency between the espoused and operative values of a congregation. The Fruits of Consultation: The 1994 Synod's Instrumentum Laboris Rose McDermott SSJ presents evidence for the effectiveness of the consultative process in the formulation of the 1994 synod's working document. 192 196 being church Ash Wednesday and Faith's Grounding Kevin Richter reflects on the meaning of Ash Wednesday as ushering us into a season in which we seek to realize ourselves as "holy ground." The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal Erik Riechers SAC sketches out four attitudes that we need to make our own as we continue our efforts at church renewal. from the tradition 207 Providence Revisited Robert P. Maloney CM examines the place of providence in the spirituality of St. Vincent de Paul and makes contemporary applications. 224 Beguine Women: Medieval Spirituality, Modern Implications Marygrace Peters OP considers the Beguines as they appear on the stage of history, their growth and demise, and their spiritual legacy. 237 Stirred to Profound Gratitude Gerald M. Fagin SJ develops the Ignatian insight on the importance of gratitude in a growing intimacy with God. 162 Review for Religious 253 261 growing in prayer Models of Faith Sharing Martin Pable OFMCap underlines the importance of faith sharing for community life and suggests some methods of keeping it lively. Progress in Prayer Francis J. Ring SJ reviews the stages of maturing in prayer from traditions and personal experience. 276 279 experience in the Jord Midlife Tumor Se~in Sammon FMS ponders the meaning of a serious medical diagnosis in the midst of a busy apostolic life. Our Friendship in the Lord A religious priest and a woman religious share their experience of deep friendship in the context of their commitment to God and to their religious community. 283 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1994 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, collaborating with Eduardo C. Fernfindez sJ, presents a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 164 Prisms 301 Canonical Counsel: The Document on Community Life: Congregavit Nos in Unum Christi Amor 308 Book Reviews March-April 1995 163 pris s Shortly after I was appointed editor of Review for Religious in 1988, I spent time brows-ing through each issue of every volume from the journal's beginning in 1942 up to the current volume. What I dis-covered was an amazing chronicle of developments in reli-gious life and ministry over the past half century. The first article in the January 1942 was titled "Religious Consecration." Today it seems very contem-porary in view of the church's predilection for the term consecrated life in its new Code and in Roman documents during the 1980s and '90s. Spiritual direction was the theme most emphasized in the early 1940s, with some five articles and comments; the theme of vocations was sec-ond. Both topics receive even greater attention today. Psychological testing of candidates for religious life was taken up by articles in 1949 and into the early '50s. One religious superior wrote an indignant letter canceling his subscription, asserting that such testing interferes with the work of the Holy Spirit. A similar flurry of negative response came to the suggestion that religious should take time for vacations--a suggestion made in 1947. One reli-gious woman wrote strongly against this idea because Jesus, Mary, and the saints never had a vacation. As early as 1944 the first reflection about the adaptation of the religious habit for women was written, with subsequent articles through the 1950s, prompting a res~ponse by the canon lawyer Father Joseph Gallen SJ to the question "Why has Review for Religious emphasized so frequently the simplification of the habit of religious women?" His answer in 1957 was that we were trying to stir up some 164 Review for Religious response to the repeated calls from Pope Pius XII and various Roman curia congregations for change in the light of poverty, hygiene, and adaptation to our times. Although we seem to be in a different place, the topic still remains current. The first article written by a layman was in January 1962 (Vatican II began on 11 October 1962) and was entitled "Notes toward Lay Spirituality." In the next issue appears the first arti-cle by a laywoman, "Restoration with a Difference"--about a sec-ular institute in Washington, D.C. In 1969 we find the first of many articles on the guided or directed retreat. Almost twefity years ago, in 1976, the beginnings of the feminist emphasis are reflected in an article titled "Womanhood: A Selected Bibliography." From these few examples I hope that our readers can appre-ciate how challenges and developments have been recorded through the variety of articles and authors found in Review for Religious over the fifty years of its publication. The editorial staff and the advisory board now are inviting all our readers to an opportunity to enter into their own kind of survey of topics. We are publishing a new book, IND,; it provides a topical and author index for all the volumes of Review for Religious from 1942 through 1994. Since the world synod of bishops with its theme "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in 'the Church and in the World" was held in October 1994, it seems fitting to provide the unique perspective of our journal's articles over the past fifty years. INDEX will be a resource for current members of religious congregations and for candidates and novices in religious forma-tion programs. Historians and researchers and people fascinated by the phenomenon of religi6us life will find this book a valu-able tool. Our readers will find an advertisement and order form for INDEX on the last page of this issue. We hope that this book will bring us all to a greater appreciation of religious life in the church. David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1995 165 ELIZABETH McDONOUGH Come Follow Me: Reflections on Some Current Theories of Religious Life religious One among an array of recent church documents on religious life, Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation Redemptionis donum (1984) presents a theology of religious profession in the context of the economy of salvation. It points out that the gospel consistently invites a response beyond the fulfillment of minimal commands and encour-ages behaviors that reflect a redemptive and Christocentric commitment. From the perspective of Redemptionis donum, religious profession inclines a person to overcome the world not in a haphazard fashion, but specifically in the likeness of Jesus Christ (§9). Above all, RD sees the primacy of being as the anthro-pological basis for a gospel vocation. That is, RD empha-sizes being over producing, possessing, and controlling. This primacy of being should produce for religious a lifestyle centered on the true value of the human person. It should witness to the mystery of redemption in the face of the widespread materialism, violence, moral erosion, and human exploitation that the world labors under today (§4). The new and fuller consecration of religious profes-sion, rooted in the sacrament of baptism, means that a person is entirely and freely given to God in a "particular style of life, witness, and apostolate, in fidelity to the mis- Elizabeth McDonough OP adapted this article from the pre-sentation she made at the 2nd International Symposium of Law of Religious held at the Catholic University of Lublin, 17-18 October 1994. She is the canon law editor of our journal. Her address is P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. 166 Review for Religious sion of [an] institute and to its identity and spiritual heritage" (§7). Chastity should provide an eschatological witness that makes transcendent realities present in the midst of temporal concerns (§11). Poverty should be clearly salvific and enable religious to enrich people, beyond any material giving, by becoming through poverty "a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God" (§12). Obedience should have the redemptive potential of furthering growth in holiness through a continuous search for and response to the will of God in a manner similar to the obe-dience of Christ, which "constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption" (§13). Religious put their gifts at the service of the church through their own community by sharing in the mission entrusted to it by the hierarchy. Within the religious family, community life demonstrates caring for one another and bearing one another's burdens as true disciples of Jesus. The fundamental value of reli-gious, however, always consists in who they are rather than in what they do (§15). In Redemptionis donum it is clear that the wit-ness of religious life is primarily that of leading the world towards the definitive fulfillment for which all of creation longs, a fulfill-ment that will ultimately be found in God alone (§14). Earlier documents of the magisterium present similar notions of religious life. Vatican II's.dogmatic constitution Lumen gen-tium states that "the religious state of life., manifests in a spe-cial way the transcendence of the kingdom of God and its requirements over all earthly things" (§44). LG sees the primary value of religious life not in terms of sign or witness or service, but rather in terms of the sanctifying and redemptive reality of reli-gious life as intrinsic to the life and holiness of the church itself.1 The conciliar document Christus Dominus is even more explicit. Regarding the obligation of religious "to work zealously and diligently for the building up and growth of the whole Mystical Body of Christ and for the good of the particular churches," CD states: "It is their duty to promote these objec-tives primarily by means of prayer, works of penance, and the example of their own lives" (§33). Perfectae caritatis, the Vatican II document specifically dealing with religious, presents the focus of religious life as seeking and loving God "above all else" because God "has first loved us." Religious are called to "foster a life hidden with Christ in God" as the "source and stimulus" of everything they do.2 March-April 199Y 167 McDonougb * Come Follow Me As regards religious profession's deepest meaning, the magisterium clearly highlights, in a noncontradictory way, consecration as more fundamental than mission, being as more fundamental than having, and witness as more fundamental than service. Mutuae relationes, issued in 1980 jointly by the Congregations for Bishops and for Religious and Secular Institutes, notes that both "religious and their communities are called to give clear tes-timony in the church of total dedication to God. This is the fun-damental option of their Christian existence and their primary duty in their distinctive way of life" (§14a, citing LG §31). The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life, issued in 1981, states that contemplation bears witness "to the primacy of the personal relationship with God" and is "the unifying act of all human movement towards God." It sees prayer as "the indispensable breath" of religious life and asks that all religious cultivate "an atti-tude of continuous and hum-ble adoration of .God's mysterious presence in people, events, and things" (§ 1). CDRL urges "integration between interiority and activity" and cautions that the "first duty" of all religious is "being with Christ" (§§2, 4, and 5). Religious and Human Pro-motion, also issued in 1981, states that motivation for apos-tolic involvement should be based on (a) fidelity to the original purpose of one's reli-gious institute in the church, (b) witness to the gospel regarding the dignity and pur-pose of work, (c) comlnitment to the religious (original emphasis) dimension of one's life as expressing a radical experience of the kingdom, and (d) sharing in the daily challenge of community as expressing Christ's love (§8). Thus the motivation for, the manner of, and the limits on apostolic activity of religious must always flow from and be cir-cumscribed by one's consecration to God and consequent service of the church in and through a particular religious family. 168 Review for Religious According to RHP, religious involve themselves in the workplace not primarily as certified professionals, but primarily as bearers of pastoral concern (§9). In summary fashion, the theology of religious life gleaned from these documents places dedication to service squarely in the context of the gift of self accepted by the church. Even more basi-cally, as regards religious profession's deepest meaning, the mag-isterium clearly highlights, in a noncontradictory way, consecration as more fundamental than mission, being as more fundamental than having, and witness as more fundamental than service. Thus, the public vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience are supposed to render each religious both more able and more willing to man-ifest, in a personal way, the primacy of consecration over produc-tion, of being over possession, and of witness over power in a world dominated by forces of production, possession, and power. Conciliar and postconciliar documents offer no firm founda-tion, then, for the notion that there is in religious life any inher-ent conflict between consecration and mission. It is suggested by some current authors, however, that primacy of consecration and being and witness falsely places consecration before mission and introduces a new version of the dichotomy between the contem-plative and the active life and between monastic and apostolic aspects of religious life as such. Some of these current opinions on religious life are noted briefly here. Various Current Concepts of Religious Life A recent analysis of religious life by Jesuit George Aschen-brenner concludes that it is basically apostolic with tendencies towards monastic or active expressions. He suggests that every person and group can be located on the continuum of "a long clothesline" to which God attaches them like "a clothespin., to some part of the line.''3 His theological reason for a universal apostolic spirituality with two manifestations seems fair enough: "In the sense of a serious commitment to and involvement with our world, every disciple of Jesus must be intensely apostolic" (p. 655). This is true. But Aschenbrenner proceeds to r~duce all Christian spirituality and indeed all religious life to either a "monastic apostolic dynamic" or an "active apostolic dynamic." His division is more than a little inadequate, as well as somewhat contrived and even pejorative. March-April 1995 169 McDonougb ¯ Come Follow Me In a rather negative comparison, Aschenbrenner presents the monastic dynamic as determined by formal prayer, as influenced by order and routine, as set apart from the world, as based on stability and solitude, and as centered on physical presence in community (pp. 657-660). In contrast he presents the apostolic dynamic as determined by ministry, as based on flexibility for change, as able to find and serve God in all activity, as being mobile and available, and as providing unity beyond mere phys-ical presence (pp. 660-664). In Aschenbrenner's view, active reli-gious life simply must be "demonasticized" for it to experience authentic renewal. Another current analysis, by Brazilian Jesuit Marcello Azevedo, says that the distinctive character of religious life is "not the vocation to holiness (common to all Christians), but the pub-lic profession--recognized, legitimized, and appreciated by the church-- of the will to live fully and radically the gospel plan, coherently aria as the primary objective of one's life" (original emphasis).4 Thus its qualitative character identifies and justifies a religious vocation among many vocations in the church. At first, this qualitative emphasis seems similar to the view of Redemptionis donum. But, Azevedo notes, if religious life is deter-mined by this specifically qualitative identity, then no particular activity and no specific style of action, as such, can ever deter-mine religious life. The logical consequence, in practice, is that "every form of activity within the church and the world has always been, and should always be, open to religious" (p. 9). Thus Azevedo views religious life as currently "snarled and blocked" by a "juridical apparatus" that should not apply to its prophetic and charismatic nature in the first place. Indeed, from his perspective, the assertion of Lumen gentium that consecrated life does not belong to the hierarchical struc-ture of the church is understood to mean that religious life is dis-tinguished primarily by its own internal consistency (p. 9). In his subsequent analysis, Azevedo presents all religious life in terms of a single and particular internal consistency, namely, an orientation toward mission similar to Aschenbrenner's encompassing apos-tolic dynamic. Even the understanding of obedience as exercised in the apostolic organization of the Jesuits is considered equally applicable to all religious institutes, including monastics (pp. 80 and 88-89, n. 4). In a thoroughly pragmatic approach, Christian Brother Louis 170 Review for Religious DeThomasis analyzes religious life from a business perspective. Everything, he says, is achieved through management; and every-thing in religious life, from performance to purpose to resources, should be transformed to his "alternative paradigms" suggested by a successful business. In these transformed paradigms, community members are considered "stakeholders," rituals are rendered effec-tive in "social justice," and divine providence is replaced by "human potential.''s The church, according to DeThomasis, is basically a safety net to "help the people of God deal with the fundamental issues of their lives" and to "help them climb the hierarchy of needs toward self-actualization" (pp. 71 and 84). In religious life, as in any profit-oriented, capitalistic system, the "client. defines the relationship between those who are served and the religious who . . . provide needed services" (p. 41). In theory these ideas of DeThomasis may sound quite pagan. In fact, they are amazingly popular today in some religious circles. Another author, Australian Marist Gerald Arbuclde, writes extensively on the topic of "refounding" religious life and pre-. sents a totally anthropological concept of it.6 Refounding by prophetic persons is needed, he says, because in recent centuries religious life became based on assumptions contrary to its origi-nal vision. These contrary assumptions are a view of the world as evil, a sense of spiritual elitism, and uncritical support of the ecclesiastical status quo.7 ' According to Arbuckle (Out of Chaos, p. 48), religious life actually originates in "liminality." That is, it arises from an intrin-sically unstable state requiring one to embrace meaninglessness or chaos for the sake of expanded possibilities. Answers to the chaos engendered in the aftermath of Vatican II are to be found in (a) rediscovery of the power of Christ within, (b) renewed vitality identified with the power of the founding myth, (c) renewed fresh-ness of the role of religious life in the forefront of creativity, and (d) responding to the spiritual or pastoral needs of people (pp. 93-94). Arbuckle describes the current reaction of religious com-munities to the challenge of refounding in terms of "prophetic" or "escapist" tribal models borrowed from anthropology. In the prophetic model, which Arbuckle clearly favors, Christ's mission has priority over survival of the community ("Prophecy," p. 336). True, of course. Any role, however, for consecration in relation to religious life is notably absent in his analysis. Both his starting point and his ending are purely human realities. March-April 1995 171 McDonougb ¯ Come Follolv Me Irish Sacred Heart Father Diarmuid O'Murchu uses Arbuckle's ideas of liminality and refounding. O'Murchu presents religious life as a purely liminal and prophetic movement that belongs, not to thechurch, but to the world. His definition of vowed life is so global, so inclusive, so psychological, and so the-ologically different that it warrants direct quotation: "The vowed life is a creation of the collective unconscious; it is a dimension of the liminal space that human beings have invented and continue to create in order to express and articulate their deepest aspira-tions.'' 8 One might suggest that, if this did not so closely resem-ble the thought of certain Enlightenment philosophers and theologians, it could be considered the well-intentioned asser-tion of an enthusiastic adolescent coping for the first time with an experience of God. The purpose O'Murchu sees for religious life, however, is anything but naive or adolescent. His position is quite political in combining aspects of liberation theology with liminality. The task of religious, for O'Murchu, is that of being "change agents" and "social catalysts." These roles will be fostered, he says, once reli-gious (1) recognize the inadequacy of the mildly revised 13th-century theology offered by Vatican Council II and (2) replace "intellectually and spiritually naive" theories of the development of religious life with a theology based on experience (pp. 54 and 59). O'Murchu reduces celibacy to intimacy, reduces obedience to listening, reduces poverty to sharing, reduces community to rela-tionships, and reduces prayer to a source of social activity. Perhaps not surprisingly, he also reduces Jesus Christ to a very minor role in religious life and to an incidental foundation for his thoughts. A highly detailed and significant sociological analysis of reli-gious life in the United States has recently been published by Vincentian Father David Nygren and St. Joseph Sister Miriam Ukeritis. This is commonly known as the FORUS study, from the acronym for its complete title: The Future of Religiorts Orders in the United States. The study was conducted from 1989 through 1992 and was funded by an independent research foundation. It had initial and ongoing cooperation from the then existing con-ferences of major superiors, and it included congregations rep-resenting over 125,000 men and women religious.9 Reference to the FORUS study is not intended to present reli-gious life in the United States as normative for religious life else-where in the world. It is to recognize, however, that religious in 172 Review for Religious the United States can have a certain influence on the views of many religious elsewhere, especially in the English-speaking world. The FORUS study explicitly identifies and directly chal-lenges some of the prevailing opinions espoused by both men and women religious in America regarding the trends and conse-quences of renewal since Vatican Council II. Indeed, its findings challenge some of the perceptions of religious life presented by authors mentioned above. The FORUS study admits that the degree of change for religious in the United States has been dras-tic since Vatican II. It acknowledges that many of the effects of post-conciliar renewal may not be within what was originally intended (p. 225). In keeping with a recent trend in analyzing religious life, the study employs paradigms--descrip-tive sociological models--to explain various observable phenomena related to renewal.1° Its final rec-ommendations rather bluntly sug-gest that the present task for religious is primarily to "demon-strate credible witness with little discrepancy between what they espouse and how they act" (p. 239). The FORUS study indicates that most religious communities have been in a multifaceted "interpretive" paradigm for about a quarter century. This means that there are subjective and com-peting worldviews espoused by groups within most communities and that these groups more or less vie with each other for a pro-portionate share of community resources and for proportionate control of decision-making authority. Now, however, according to Nygren and Ukeritis, communities are moving in the direction of one or another of two basic orientations.~ The FORUS study refers to these two basic orientations by the technical sociologi-cal terms "functionalist" and "structuralist" paradigms. In rela-tion to religious life, it may be more helpful to refer to these respective orientations as traditional and progressive, without, The FORUS study explicitly identifies and directly challenges some of the prevailing opinions espoused by both men and women religious in America regarding the trends and consequences of renewal since Vatican Council II. March-April 1995 173 McDonougb * Come Follow Me however, attaching positive or negative connotations to these descriptive labels. Communities which are tending toward the traditional ori-entation for religious institutes (or toward the "functionalist" paradigm, in sociological terms) seek an ordered and rather reg-ulated environment based on a single identity that is manifest through work or attire or clear membership boundaries or all of these aspects. These communities use incremental-change mech-anisms and operate on the basis of a product economy. That is, they identify perduring needs as worthy of ministry in keeping with their charism. They tend to establish institutions, or gradu-ally adapt already existing ones, in order to meet these perduring needs. They prepare vowed members for ministry as qualified personnel within or in relation to these institutions, which in turn both support and express various aspects of their charism. The FORUS study suggests that communities such as the Little Sisters of the Poor, Benedictine monks, and the Daughters of Charity are in this functionalist (that is, traditional) orientation that favors convergen.ce in ministry and lifestyle along with continuous incre-mental change (p. 227). Communities that are tending toward the progressive orien-tation for religious institutes (or toward the "structuralist" paradigm, in sociological terms) assume that there is a need to overcome, through empowerment of the oppressed for social change, the organizational domination exercised by certain seg-ments of society. These communities use dramatic reorientation programs and operate on the basis of a market economy. That is, they respond to prevailing needs in various locations as express-ing individual but interdependent manifestations of their charism. They tend to avoid institutional commitments, both in what may formerly have been their own institutions and in related institu-tional settings. They foster broad-based and open-ended min-istry preparation and individual apostolic placement, which in turn often require major internal readjustment and new expres-sions of various aspects of their charism. The FORUS study sug-gests that communities such as the Sisters of Loretto, the Sisters of St. Joseph, and the Alexian Brothers are in this structuralist (that is, progressive) orientation that favors radical and somewhat discontinuous reorganization of ministries and lifestyles (p. 228). More significant, however, are findings of the FORUS study that stem from and relate to the different orientations just 174 Review for Religious described. The data indicates that most members of most reli-gious orders in the United States have simply ass~med that a prod-uct- oriented approach of continuous incremental change for religious life is inadequate for meeting contemporary needs. At the same time, they have simply assumed that a market-oriented approach involving major reorganization will be efficacious for religious life as it enters the third millennium. In other words, to use more common parlance, there is a certain fore-gone conclusion that the for-mer structures and functions of religious life are simply out-dated and inadequate for meet-ing needs in the world of today and that only new structures and functions will guarantee a future for religious life (p. 229). Other findings of the study, however, indicate that efforts at radical reorganization in pro-gressive communities have often failed. They have simply been eclipsed by internal con-cerns about financial limita-tions, loss of institutions, decreased personnel, aging membership, and diversified ¯ ministries. In contrast, FORUS findings show that efforts at convergent, incremental change in traditional communities have often been successful. They have sustained a pattern of serving the poor with integrated services delivered from a context of distinct purpose, centralized govern-ment, characteristic ministry, external identification, and com-mon practices. It should also be noted that FORUS places current feminist agendas in the structuralist (that is, progressive) orien-tation and identifies two conferences of major superiors in America as openly advocating this orientation.12 Note the striking correlation between the predominant struc-turalist (that is, progressive) orientation identified in the FORUS study and much of the prevailing literature on religious life.13 Most members of most religious orders in the United States have simply assumed that a product-oriented approach of continuous incremental change for religious life is inadequate for meeting contemporary needs. March-April 1995 175 McDonough * Come Follow Me As has been seen, Azevedo suggests that any and every form of activity should be open to religious so long as their way of life manifests an "inner consistency." In the same vein, Mercy Sister Doris Gottemoeller, immediate past present of LCWR and audi-tor at the 1994 Synod of Bishops, recently defined religious life as being constituted entirely by fidelity to a self-defined and self-chosen inner consistency. DeThomasis advocates imaginative transformation to alternative paradigms so that religious life will have meaning in the 21st century. Arbuckle urges abandoning outdated structures in favor of total refounding in the chaotic aftermath of Vatican II. O'Murchu presents the task of religious as fostering social change emerging from their liminal experi-ence. The theory of prophetic liminality is completely adopted by Sister Anne Munley IHM in a study commissioned by LCWR which appeared immediately after the publication of the FORUS study and countered many of its findings. Munley obviously advo-cates the progressive orientation as identified by Nygren and Ukeritis and cautions against the "entrenchment" of previous forms of religious life; she promotes an "emerging paradigm" for the future and wants to see religious "breaking free from stag-nant relationships based on dominance and subordination." ,4 Regardless of the prevailing literature, however, the FORUS study articulates one transparent conclusion as valid for all reli-gious communities, whether their orientation is towards a struc-turalist (progressive) or a functionalist (traditional) paradigm. In sociological terms, that conclusion makes an explicit correlation between an institute's tradition and its response to the social and ecclesial environment. According to the FORUS conclusion, directed specifically to apostolic institutes, "those that are most responsive to pressing need and motivated by the love of Christ will be vitalized as long as their efforts are consistent with their tradition . Their purpose must be clear and their efforts to achieve, unencumbered . Until the external perception of apos-tolic religious orders is congruent with their self-definitions (that is, until they do what they profess), their membership is likely to remain limited in numbers and their social credibility will be threatened" (p, 2 3 5). Let me repeat the key elements of this conclusion: respon-siveness to pressing need; motivation deriving from the love of Christ; consistency with an institute's tradition; clarity of purpose; unencumbered efforts; and actions that match the institute's message. 176 Review for Religious In terms of the vowed life, the elements of this conclusion are closely related to the primacy of consecration, of being, and of witness as presented in the theology of the magisterium con-cerning religious life. This FORUS conclusion also touches the heart of the matter regarding real or apparent conflicts between consecration and mission in religious life. The FORUS findings are clear that, whatever may be the work of religious in the world, it is far less significant than their credibility in the world's eyes and that this credibility will always be threatened "until they do what they profess." So say the sociologists on the basis of data gathered from a study representing over 125,000 men and women religious in the United States of America. Points of Contact and Comparison Recall that in Redemptionis donum religious are called both to embrace the will of God totally and to overcome the world in the likeness of Jesus Christ (§9). Recall, too, that Religious and Human Promotion sees all religious life as being apostolic in response to the world. In parallel fashion, The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life presents all religious life as being contemplative in response to God. That is to say, there is no such thing as authentic activity for religious which is not fully informed by prayer, and there is no such thing as authentic life for religious themselves which is not thoroughly grounded in contemplation. Further, for practical situations, Religious and Human Promotion identifies four criteria--"four loyalties"--for the activity of all religious in bringing the gospel to bear on their response to authentic human need. These cri'teria are (1) fidelity to human-ity and to our times, (2) fidelity to Christ and to the gospel, (3) fidelity to the church and to its mission in the world, and (4) fidelity to religious life and to the charism of one's institute (§13). Documents of the magisterium concerning consecrated life, then, do not so much impose specific behaviors on religious as invite wholehearted and faithful responses from them. The FORUS conclusion mentioned above presents a very similar posi-tion, namely, that religious communities will survive and even thrive when they exhibit responsiveness to pressing need, moti-vation from the love of Christ, consistency with their tradition, clarity of purpose, unencumbered efforts, and actions that match March-April 1995 177 McDonougb ¯ Come Follow Me their message. The FORUS study identifies as necessary a recog-nizable consistency between the espoused and operative values of religious if they are to be credible witnesses in the world. Church documents call religious to this same consistency and witness. In contrast to some current theories of religious life, then, perhaps it is not so much a matter of reconciling consecration and mission--or even a matter of producing new theologies and new forms of religious life--as it is a matter of finding a proper balance and expression of the obligations religious have already embraced. Religious are not called upon either by the world or by the church to be anything other than who and what they are. Indeed, they are called upon to be precisely who and what they are, and they are called upon to do so precisely in the lived real-ivy of what they have professed. Notes ~ P. Molinari and P. Gumpel, Chapter VI of the Dogmatic Constitution "Lumen Gentium" on Religious Life, trans. M.P. Ewen (Rome: Gregorian University, 1987), pp. 154-163. 2 Perfectae caritatis §6. This emphasis for religious should not be a surprise, however, because Ad gentes §11 presents the witness of all Christians primarily as in their lives, not in their works. Good works, though, do flow from true Christian life: "All Christians by the example of their lives and the witness of the word, wherever they live, have an obliga-tion to manifest the 'new man' which they put on in baptism, and to reveal the power of the Holy Spirit by whom they were strengthened at confirmation" (emphasis added). 3 G. Aschenbrenner, "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," Review for Religious 45, no. 5 (September-October 1986): 653-668, at 656. 4 M. Azevedo, Vocation for Mission (New York: Paulist Press, 1988), p. 8. s L. DeThomasis, Imaginations: A Future for Religious Life 0Ninona, Minnesota: Metanoia Group, 1992), p. 129. 6 G. Arbuckle, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist Press, 1988). 7 Arbuckle, pp. 68-77. See also Arbuckle's article "Prophecy or Restorationism in Religious Life," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May- June 1993): 326-339. 8 D. O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991), p. 48. 9 D. Nygren and M. Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States (Westport, Connecticut: Praeger Publishers, 1993). Hereafter 178 Review for Religious cited as FORUS. An earlier, shorter version entitled "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary" appeared as the entire edition of Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992), and was published shortly there-after in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55. l0 An influential article among Americans regarding paradigm shifts was the historical and sociological analysis of Marianist Brothers L. Cada and R. Fitz, "The Recovery of Religious Life," Review for Religious 34, no. 5 (September-October 1975): 690-718. This article was later expanded into a book, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (New York: Seabury Press, 1979). Fitz and Cada rely heavily on, but do not cite, the work of R. Hostie, Vie et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Desclde, 1972). The paradigm-shift theory can be traced to T. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970). For a critique of the application of paradigm shifts to religious life, see E. McDonough, "The Past Is Prologue: Quid Agis?" in Review for Religious 51, no. 1 (1992): 78-97, especially 90-93. " Characteristics of these orientations are treated in summary form in FORUS, pp. 226-230, and in more detail in chap. 1 of the study, pp. 2- 15. ,2 See FORUS, pp. 226 and 229, respectively. The latter may be a sig-nificant finding since both the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) and the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) were directly involved in the three-year FORUS survey and had repre-sentatives on the FORUS advisory board. That is to say, the FORUS study seems to have identified a role exercised by CMSM and LCWR somewhat beyond that which is envisioned for such conferences by Vatican II and in church law: See Perfectae caritatis §42-§43;Mutuae relationes §21; and CIC, canon 708. ,3 On the other hand, there are some works supporting the function-alist or traditional orientation of the FORUS study. Research by Immaculate Heart of Mary Sister Eleace King supports the ability of tra-ditional communities to attract and keep new members. See her intro-ductory sections to the CARA Formation Directory (Washington, D.C.: Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate) for the years 1991, 1992, 1993, and 1994-1995. Albert DiIanni, vicar general of the Marist Fathers from 1985 to 1993, has written a series of articles whose content lends objective support to the functionalist (or traditional) orientation. These cover such topics as the influence of modernity on religious vows, God as the proper object of religion, and the significance of current vocation trends. These articles have recently been collected and published in A. Dilanni, Religious Life as Adventure: Renewal, Refounding, or Refo~wt? (New York: Alba House, 1994). See also, E. McDonough, "Juridical Deconstruction of Religious Institutes," Studia Canonica 26 (1992): 307- 341, and "Charisms and Religious Life," Review for Religious 52, no. 5 (September-October 1993): 648-659. ,4 A. Munley, Threads for the Loom: LCFVR Planning and Ministry Studies (Silver Spring, Maryland: LCWR, 1992), pp. 1, 11, and 12. March-April 199~ 179 ROSE McDERMOTT The Fruits of Consultation: The 1994 Synod's Instrumentum Laboris During most of October 1994, bishops and other partici-pants of the ninth ordinary session of the Synod of Bishops discussed "Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." The remote preparation for this assembly was the Lineamenta issued 20 November 1992, in which twenty-five questions on the topic of consecrated life were addressed to the worldwide church by the Vatican Synod Secretariat.~ Following this consultation, the same secretariat released the Instrurnentum laboris or working paper for the synod on 20 June 1994.2 This is the text that guided the synod's participants in their discussions on consecrated life. The purpose of this article is to note some of the Instru-menturn's significant revisions (vis-a-vis the Lineamenta) that resulted from the worldwide consultation. An overview of the format of the Instrumenturn and some observations on the revisions in comparison with the Lineamenta will show the positive results effected by the consultative process, which engaged the entire ecclesial community. The Format of the Instrumentum Laboris The Instrumentum laboris, composed of 111 paragraphs and 268 endnotes, is significantly longer than the Lineamenta, which Rose McDermott SSJ is a faculty member of the Department of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America. Her address is Holy Trinity Convent; 1554 35th Street N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20007. 180 Review for Religious contained 47 paragraphs and 130 endnotes. Like the Lineamenta, the working paper has an introduction and a conclusion; how-ever, the Instrumentum is divided into four parts, in contrast to the Lineamenta's three. The length of the Instrumentum can be attributed to the discussion, in part 2 (§§41-65), of consecrated life within the context of the mystery of Christ and the church and the expansion, in part 4 (§§86-110), of the section on the role of con-secrated life in the mission of the church. These two sections of the Instrumenturn are the more significant revisions and improve-ments of part 1, section 1 (§§5-13), and part 3, section 2 (§§42- 44), of the Lineamenta. The Lineamenta began with a presentation of the nature and identity of consecrated life, moved on to a reflection on its wit-ness and activity in the church and world today, and concluded with a hope for the future role of consecrated life in the mission of the church. The Instrumentum, on the other hand, begins with an examination of the spiritual and pastoral characteristics of con-secrated life today, moves to a theological presentation of this vocation within the mystery of Christ and the ecclesial commu-nity, and concludes with a challenge to consecrated life in the church's mission to the world. This format enables the reader to focus on the present reality of consecrated life, reflect on its the-ological foundations, and have hope for its future in the life and mission of the church. The format, moreover, precludes the seem-ing dichotomy of the church and world reflected in the format of the Lineamenta. Significant Revisions in the Instrumentum Laboris The Instrumentum's Introduction. A Stance of Listening The introduction to the Lineamenta (§§1-4) explained .the for-mat of the synod, gave a rationale for choosing the topic of con-secrated life, and recalled the magisterium's conciliar and postconciliar teachings on consecrated life. The purpose of the Lineamenta was to present the essential elements of consecrated life as a guide for all those responding to the invitation to engage in the consultation. The introduction to the Instrumentum (§§1-7), however, places the synodal fathers in a listening stance before the thoughts and experiences of the rest of the Christian faithful at this moment in the history of salvation. It stresses the importance of the partic- March-April 1995 181 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Consultation ipation of the entire church membership in this ecclesial event (§1). It gratefully acknowledges the tremendous outpouring of responses to the twenty-five questions posed by the Lineamenta and manifests respect for the differing points of view expressed by the respondents (§3). It acknowledges that the respondents have pointed to the complexity of the topic at hand and that sensitiv-ity is needed in addressing such diversity (§4). It takes note that various respondents have different experiential perspectives on consecrated life today. Some recognize it as a time of transfor-mation or profound change, while others see it as a time of renewal, revitalization, and refoundation (§4). Finally, the intro-duction explains the meaning and limits of the term "consecrated life" within the context of the lnstrumentum and the synod itself (~95-6). This was a noted lacuna in the Lineamenta.3 The Instrumentum's Part 1. Consecrated Life Today Part 2 of the Lineamenta, "Consecrated Life in the Church and the World of Today" (9925-33), recognized the profound societal and ecclesial changes that affect consecrated life. After describing a number of positive results of the efforts at renewal and adaptation made by institutes of consecrated life and by their individual members (9926-27), the Lineamenta enumerated vari-ous negative experiences and problems. The bishops gathered at the synod would assist consecrated persons in the continuing renewal prompted by the Second Vatican Council (928). This section seemed to judge members and institutes of consecrated life on their inability to meet successfully all of the challenges experienced in society and the church over the past thirty years. Part 1 of the Instrumentum laboris, "Consecrated Life Today" (998-40), celebrates the wide variety and different forms of con-secrated life. Several responses recommended that the distinc-tive charism of each institute is the key to interpreting the whole of consecrated persons' experience: their living of the counsels, spirituality, apostolate, communal life, formation, and organiza-tion (911). This input of the respondents pointed to the com-plexity and sensitivity of the topic which the synod's participants had to address. Likewise, unlike the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum offers a profile of men and women in consecrated life today. Those who critiqued the Lineamenta called attention to this sig-nificant lacuna.4 Women represent 72.5 percent of the member-ship of institutes of consecrated life, while 82.2 percent are laypersons (98). Knowledge of the various charisms or spiritual 182 Review.for Religious traditions and attentiveness to the experiences and voices of women and nonclerical male religious are important considera-tions for the synod. Unlike the Lineamenta, the Instrl~mentum does not make judg-ments on the achievements and failures of consecrated life during its period of renewal and adaptation. Rather, it reviews for the benefit of the entire church the profound changes that have affected the living of the evan-gelical counsels and the perma-nent commitment of those responding to the vocation to follow the poor, chaste, and obedient Christ (§§14-17). It recognizes and commends the heroic efforts made by institutes and members to renew and adapt in accord with the exhor-tations of the Second Vatican Council and their own charisms. Likewise, the text acknowledges the enormous challenges encountered today in living out the. commitment to consecrated life (§ 18). In objectively pointing to the difficulties encountered by persons professing the evangel-ical counsels, the Instrumentum is far more supportive and less judgmental than the Lineamenta. The Instrumentum seems to enter into dialogue with consecrated persons, rather than judge the ability of institutes and members to address these societal and ecclesial challenges (§§23-26). The responses to the Lineamenta hoped that synod would encourage a continuation on the path indicated by the Second Vatican Council. This confirmation in the Instrumentum is welcomed by many who were discouraged by the negative judgments made in the Lineamenta. The great transi-tions that consecrated life is experiencing today cannot be exam-ined apart from the obedient response of these institutes and their members to the conciliar mandate to renew and adapt (§ 14).5 Several responses recommended that the distinctive charism of each institute is the key to interpreting the whole of consecrated persons' experience: their living of the counsels, spirituality, apostolate, communal life, formation, and organization. March-dpril 1~95 183 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Consultation The mystery of Christ and the church is foundational for those professing the evangelical counsels. A vocation to consecrated life is rooted in Christ and one's baptismal consecration. The Instrumentum's Part 2. Consecrated Life in the Mystery of Christ and the Church Part 1, section 1, of the Lineamenta discussed "The Nature and Identity of the Consecrated Life" (§§5-13). Unfortunately, this section attempted to explain the fundamental elements of consecrated life without rooting the vocation in the mystery of Christ and the church. This regrettable lacuna was noted in the consultation process.6 The Second Vatican Council (LG §46) taught that consecrated life has its roots in the mystery of Christ and the gospel. Likewise, while conse-crated life does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the church, it belongs undeniably to her life and holiness (LG §44). Part 2 of the lnstrumentum laboris, "Consecrated Life in the Mystery of Christ and the Church" (§§41-65), seeks to remedy this omission; the entire part is a wel-come and significant expansion of part 1, section 1, of the Lineamenta. The first six para-graph~ (§§41-46) describe conse-crated life as a gift of the Holy Spirit to the church and root it firmly within the sacramental and charismatic dimension of the church. The vocation.is a call to an intense following of the life and teachings of Christ as reflected in the gospel. A noteworthy quotation from Mystici Corporis sub-stantiates the importance of the living of the evangelical coun-sels in a variety of institutes in the ecclesial community: "When she embraces the evangelical counsels, the church reproduces in herself the poverty, obedience, and virginity of the Redeemer. Through the multiple and diverse institutions adorning her like so many jewels, in a certain sense she shows forth Christ in con-templation on the mountain, preaching to the people, healing the sick and wounded, calling sinners back to the right way, and doing good to all" (§43). 184 Review for Religious This explanation by Pope Plus XII of the ecclesial meaning of the charisms is well known and often quoted; it was incorporated into Lumen gentium ~46 and canon 577 of the Latin Code of Canon Law. In employing this text, the Instrumentum describes the priestly, prophetic, and kingly mission of those called to conse-crated life. The mystery of Christ and the church is foundational for those professing the evangelical counsels. A vocation to con-secrated life is rooted in Christ and one's baptismal consecration. Consecrated life is gift of the Holy Spirit to the church, as the church is gift of the Father to the world.7 The Instrumentum's Part 3. Consecrated Life in Ecclesial Communion Part 3, section 1, of the Lineamenta, "Consecrated Life in the Church Communion" (§§34-41), presented the relations of insti-tutes and members of consecrated life with the hierarchy from a rather rigid authoritarian perspective. It seemed to overlook what had been requested of the bishops and members of consecrated life in Mutuae relationes.8 Words and phrases such as "submisSion," "subjection," and "total and ready acceptance of directives" lacked the collaborative and cooperative qualities encouraged between bishops and religious in the document on mutual relations (§36). While the Lineamenta encouraged clerical religious to become involved in the presbyteral council, there was little mention of the specific roles or participation of other members of institutes of consecrated life in the mission of the particular churches (§39). Entities such as conferences, councils, and unions of major superiors were to enter into dialogue with the hierarqhy, but there was no indication in the Lineamenta of a corresponding episcopal responsibility for such cooperation (§38). Likewise, no mention was made of the many efforts of both bishops and major superi-ors at national and diocesan levels to enter into more collabora-tive relationships for the sake of the church's mission. Part 3 of the Instrumentum, "Consecrated Life in Ecclesial Communion," remedies these flaws and omissions in the Lineamenta. It describes the relationship of consecrated life to the universal and the local church. This section is perhaps the most reworked part of the Lineamenta. Twenty paragraphs (§§66- 85) revise and expand the same topic discussed in the eight para-graphs of part 3 of the Lineamenta (§§34-41). Part 3, section 1, explains ecclesial communion as sacra-mental, hierarchical, and charismatic (§67). All are called to par- March-April 1995 185 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Consultation ticipate in the mission of the church--lay people, clerics, and those professing the evangelical counsels. This section explains the living of the evangelical counsels as a participation in the priestly, prophetic, and kingly offices (munera) of Christ (§71). The communion of the institutes and their members with the universal church is recognized and lived through the particular churches' witness to and participation in Christ's three munera (§§72-73). The lnstrumentum acknowledges the efforts of bishops and those consecrated by the profession of the counsels to build authentic relations through communication and collaboration among themselves and with the other clergy and the laity (§§73- 74). Noticeably absent are the harsh mandates to "subjection, "total and ready acce.ptance of directives," and "submission to the authority of bishops" expressed in the Lineamenta. Instead, there is an emphasis on the positive results of dialogue, mutual rela-tions, collaboration, and cooperation. The bishops are called to their serious responsibility of appreciating consecrated life and receiving the service of consecrated persons for the pastoral needs of the particular churcl~ (§75). . The lnstrumentum's Part 4. Consecrated Life in the Church's Mission In part 3, section 2, "Consecrated Life in Church Mission" (§§42-44), the Lineamenta called those in consecrated life to par-ticipation in the new evangelization through the witness and proclamation of the gospel. The spiritual and apostolic legacy of institutes of consecrated life, particularly those dedicated to mis-sionary activity, can contribute immeasurably to the remaking of the Christian fabric and the promotion of the unity of all the bap-tized (§43). This section called those committed to living the gospel to accept the responsibility of making it known in today's world (§42). Consecrated persons are called to undertake the new evan-gelization by manifesting the charity of Christ in many ways: to the young, to the poor, in schools, in the promotion of culture, in fostering peace and justice (§44). While this section of the Lineamenta was certainly positive in restating traditional aposto-lates, it seemed to lack a description of the creative response required of institutes of consecrated life and their members to meet the challenges inherent in addressing the felt needs of God's people in today's world. 186 Review for Religious Part 4 of the Instrumentum, "Consecrated Life in the Church's Mission" (§§86-110), significantly expands part 3, section 2, of the Lineamenta. There are twenty-five paragraphs in the Instrumentum in comparison with the three paragraphs of the Lineamenta. This part 4 of the Instrumentum looks to the future responsibilities of members and institutes of consecrated life in the mission of the church. These new challenges will require a renewal in spiri-tual and apostolic vitality (§§86- 87). There is a strong appeal for the fostering of vocations to all forms of consecrated life (§89). Institutes of consecrated life are obliged to provide an intense formation for those accepting the vocation to a life conse-crated by the counsels. Great emphasis is placed on the min-istry of formation, the forma-tion of formators, and the formation required in address-ing the new demands of conse-crated life (§§91-92). Considerable attention is devoted to women, who consti-tute three-fourths of the mem-bers of consecrated life. These women require a formation that is at once thorough, integral, and dynamic in preparation for their significant contribution to the mission of the church. Admittedly, women are still far from full engagement in the church~ their ecclesial role must be clari-fied and officially recognized (§88). Two paragraphs of this section are devoted to the importance of inculturation for the effectiveness of consecrated life in the church's mission. One of the greatest future challenges of institutes of consecrated life is to express themselves in diverse cultures. This is a complex reality that demands knowledge of the civi-lization, tradition, language, and customs of a people and accep-tance of individual persons (§§93-94). Consecrated life has a special role in the new evangelization, since its members represent Christ in responding to the demands The bishops are called to their serious responsibility of appreciating consecrated life and receiving the service of consecrated persons for the pastoral needs of the particular church. March-April 1995 187 McDermott ¯ The Fruits of Cons~dtation Called first to conversion or self-evangelization, consecrated men and women can transform and humanize society through the witness of their lives and the charisms or gifts they have received. of the beatitudes. Called first to conversion or self-evangeliza-tion, consecrated men and women can transform and humanize society through the witness of their lives and the charisms or gifts they have received (§95). They are called to examine traditional apostolates and to extend themselves in new endeavors: ecu-menism, interreligious dialogue (particularly with the Jews), and working more closely with asso-ciates and lay people. Special mention is given to apostolic endeavors directed towards the poor, the sick and suffering, youth, family life, the further-ance of peace and justice, and the promotion of culture (§§98-109). The work of this synod is to make the new evangelization alive and effective in consecrated life. Those in consecrated life must extend their essential fol-lowing of Christ to a further evangelical and apostolic dimen-sion. The Instrumentum calls for finding new forms of apostolic presence through an exploratory review of the traditional aposto-lates, of the gifts of the institute's members, of geographic loca-tions, and of ecumenical per-spectives. This section of the Instrumentum emphasizes the principle that the charism of an institute of consecrated life is a gift to the church for the world. Clearly the experiences of institutes of consecrated life serving in the church's mission throughout the world contributed immeasurably to the improvement of this part of the Instrumentum laboris. The Instrumentum's Conclusion. A Call to Fidelity The conclusion to the Lineamenta (§§45-47) dealt with three topics in three paragraphs. Yet it seemed more a continuation of the discussion of the document than a summary or conclusion. It presented Mary as the example par excellence for those who follow the virginal, poor, and obedient Christ (§45), Throughout 188 Review for Religious the history of the church, the many gifts or charisms of conse-crated life (eremitic, monastic, mendicant, apostolic, and secu-lar) have borne testimony to the presence of the Spirit in the church and have adorned the bride for her Spouse (§46). The final paragraph recognized the celebration of the synod as calling those professing the evangelical counsels to a more intense living of the graces they have received in order that Christ may be more present for the unity and salvation of all people (§47). The conclusion to the Instrumentum (§111) is significantly shorter. The synod is viewed as a moment of grace for conse-crated persons, particularly coming at the threshold of the third millennium since the incarnation of the Word. It calls conse-crated persons to a renewal of the four fidelities articulated in "Religious and Human Promotion": (1) fidelity to Christ and the gospel; (2) fidelity to the church and her mission; (3) fidelity to consecrated life and one's particular charism; (4) fidelity to the person and our age (§111).9 Since these four fidelities sum up the whole of consecrated life, the challenge to those living the evangelical counsels to recommit themselves to them seems a fitting conclusion to the Instrumentum laboris. Consecrated life, particular church-approved way of life that it is, is an intense response to one's baptismal commitment to follow Christ. Highlighting only a few of the more significant revisions, this article has attempted to demonstrate how constructively the worldwide consultation affected the reworking of the Lineamenta as it was becoming the Instrumentum that would guide the recent synod's discussion. The modifications contributed to the supe-rior quality of the Instrumentum in comparison with the Lineamenta. The assembly of bishops is presented in a listening stance towards consecrated persons and the rest of the Christian faith-ful; the synod is at one with the entire church in its reflection on consecrated life. The bishops acknowledge the efforts of insti-tutes of consecrated life and their members in meeting the chal-lenges in today's church and society. Likewise, they share the concerns of consecrated persons during this time of significant transition. The Instrumentum roots consecrated life firmly within March-AgrHl 1995 189 McDermott ¯ Tbe Fruits of Consultation the mystery of Christ and the ecclesial community; it identifies the living of the counsels as a participation in the church's prophetic, priestly, and kingly mission. Present-day experiences and apos-tolates of members of apostolic institutes of consecrated life inspire and give impetus to section 4 of the lnstrumentum on the participation of consecrated life in the mission of the church. And, finally, those consecrated through the profession of the coun-sels are called to a recommitment to the four fidelities that con-stitute their very existence. Pope Paul VI instituted the synod of bishops at the begin-ning of the fourth session of the council on 15 September 1965.1° One of the reasons for the establishment of this central consul-tative organ was to ensure that direct and real information would be provided to the Apostolic See on issues integral to the church and its mission. This purpose seems to have been accomplished. The consultative process assisted in the production of a working paper of high quality that reflected not only the teachings of the church on consecrated life, but also the experience of this Christian vocation throughout the world. The working paper seemed a most effective instrument in directing synodal discus-sions on "Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." Moreover, this Inst~tmentum, along with the synod's brief final message, is a source of encouragement for the whole church, particularly its members professing the evangelical counsels, as they await Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation. Notes ~ Synodus Episcoporum IX Coetu~ Generalis Ordinarius, De Vita Consecrata deque Eius Munere in Ecclesia et in Mundo Lineamenta (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1992). The English translation of the Lineamenta can be found in Origins 22, no. 26 (10 December 1992): 433 and 435-454. Subsequent references, to paragraphs, will be placed in parentheses within the text. 2 Synodus Episcoporum IX Coetus Generalis Ordinarius, De Vita Consecrata deque Eius Munere in Ecclesia et in Mundo lnstrumentum Laboris (Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1994). The English translation of the Instrumentum laboris can be found in Origins 24, no. 7 (30 June 1994): 97 and 99-138. Subsequent references, to paragraphs, will be placed in parentheses within the text. 3 Rose McDermott SSJ, "Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World: The Lineamenta for the 1994 Synod of Bishops," The Jurist 53, no. 2 (1993): 242. 190 Review for Religious 4 Gilles Cusson, "Attentes des religieux et des religieuses a l'approche du synode sur la vie religieuse," Vie consacrde 65 (1993): 228. s McDermott, "Consecrated Life," 250-251. 6 Instrumentum laboris, §§4 and 39. 7 Andrea Boni, Vangelo e Vita Religiosa (Rilettura teologica e storico-giuridica dellefonti) (Rome: Pontificium Athenaeum Antonianum, 1994), p. 154. 8 S.C.R.S.I., "Directives for Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious in the Church," in Vatican Council H: More Post Conciliar Documents, ed. Austin Flannery OP (Northport: Costello Publishing Company, 1975), pp. 209-243. 9 S.C.R.S.I., "Religious and Human Advancement," in Flannery (ed.), Vatican, as in note 8, pp. 260-284. 10 Paul VI, Motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo, 15 September 1965, in Canon Law Digest, vol. 6, pp. 388-411. Mary, Easter Morning Jesus, my Son! Jesus, my Son! Splendidly shining, silvered in lightnings! Here let me hold, hard to my heart, My beautiful Son, my blessed Redeemer! Sad though my heart, hope was my mainstay, Whilst grievously tattered, torn and sore wounded, Livid and lifeless, low wast thou laid. Now all is brightness, blissful and blithesome, Gold-fingered dawning, glorious day! For, scornful of death, defying the tomb, Them thou defeated. Thus thou appearest Jeweled with radiance, gemmed and resplendent, Triumphant in glory, my God and my Son! Mary Albertus Mathis RSM March-April 199~ 191 KEVIN RICHTER Ash Wednesday and Faith's Grounding Before anything else I want to say what is most impor-tant: We are an Easter people. This fact is clearly pre-sumed in every Christian liturgy. We are a people that believes that the resurrection of Jesus from the dead is life-giving for us. The kingdom is present; as kingdom people we await the fullness, the completion, of that king-dom. This is our context, our situation. Nothing mean-ingful could be said about Ash Wednesday and Lent without this Easter event being understood and accepted as their "source and summit." In an image adapted from T.S. Eliot, our life is a series of circles in which the end always comes back to the begin-ning and comes to know it as if "for the first time." The season of Lent is this ending which reminds us of Easter's new beginning, renews our participation in it, and pre-pares us for a deeper living of it. Ash Wednesday, then, could be called the beginning of the end. "Remember you are dust and to dust you will return" (Gn 3:19). These familiar words speak to us from the liturgy of this day as we are being marked with ashes. I have always liked these words, first of all for their abrupt-ness that matches the action, signaling a very deliberate Kevin Richter, a priest of the Sioux City diocese, currently serves as associate pastor of St. Mary parish in Remsen and as a spiritual director of the St. Mary school system. His address is St. Mary Parish; Rernsen, Iowa 51050. 192 Review for Religious and clear entrance into the Lenten season. We are visibly marked--an invitation out of the ambiguity of our life's direction into the truth seeking of the kingdom. When we receive the invi-tation, we are inflamed; when we willingly respond, we become ashes. Thus, my second reason for liking these words is that they "ground" us, both literally and figuratively. We are reminded of our earthiness. We are "humus," earth. Our lit-eral "humility" comes to the fore. We are called down from the loftiness of our ideas and our ,activities into the soil of our lives to become rooted again. There is great potential here for rediscovering rootedness in a world that is often experienced as hav-ing no roots. It is here, in the ground of our being, that we can reconnect with our innermost self, our deepest self, if and when we allow all things that are of our making to die. All of our idols--ideas, opinions, projects, activities, possessions-- come to rest with us in the dust of the earth. But, once again, coming to this place makes sense only if we are fully cognizant of the fact that it was into the dust of the earth that Yahweh blew the breath of life (see Gn 2:7). This is a place of promise, of hope, and of new life. God is stirred to "concern for his land" and takes "pity on his people" (J1 2:18).1 These things are understood in the light of the Easter event. The image of entering into our earthiness is an easy one for me, coming from a rural culture as I do. Each fall I watch the farmers bring in the harvest of the field. In the process they leave behind the "trash"--the chopped-up leaves, stalks, and corncobs-- to be plowed under and into the soil. This trash, transformed to humus, adds to the richness of the soil and prepares for a more abundant harvest in future years. So it is with us. Our entrance into earthiness is an invitation to let go of our own trash: to let go of our controlling nature, to let go of the conception of ourselves as self-sustained and self-contained, to let go of our diversions and distractions. When we explore the trash of our lives and begin to be able to let it go, it When we explore the trash of our lives and begin to be able to let it go, it becomes humus for fertilizer for a life of greater fruitfulness. March-April 1995 193 Richter ¯ Ash Wednesday and Faith's Grounding becomes humus for us--fertilizer for a life of greater fruitfulness. Through this action we return to the Lord with our "whole heart" (J12:12). This is an invitation to a simplicity of life that renews our focus on the reality of the circle, our movements to and from the Easter event. This is an invitation to recognize our being in the presence of God, who is the breath of life. The season of Lent, then, is not an entrance into the barren land that we have sometimes thought it to be. Rather, it is an entrance into a land that will produce much fruit. This day and this season are made holy by our actions of self-denial. If we embrace "the discipline of Lent," we are assured, we will find it to be not a place of desolation, but a deposit of richness waiting to give life and light. To embrace this discipline, to stand .true to the mark we have received on this day, takes great courage. It involves a willing-ness to look directly into the shadows and dark places of our lives. But I believe courage is given in proportion to our faith. The more deeply we come to believe in the light of the Easter event, the more courageous we become in exploring the darknesses of our lives. Each year, as we are given the grace, to enter more deeply into our personal experience of Easter, we also are given the grace of a "steadfast spirit" to enter more deeply into the darkness that is the 'ground of our being. In this way the circle of the Easter event has a spiraling effect that moves us into ever deeper levels of truth. So, what is the discipline of Lent? In the traditional language of the liturgy, it is a discipline of repentance and reconciliation. Of what are we repenting? Our project of building up our own self to the exclusion of God. To what are we being reconciled? Our deepest self, rooted intimately and infinitely in God. For we are to "become the very holiness of God," a grace that is not to be received "in vain" (2 Co 5:21 and 6:1). This is the project of a lifetime that is entered anew each year. In the antiseptic language of the day, the discipline of Lent is a project of "assessment and evaluation." It is a time for "taking stock of our priorities," for "clarifying objectives and setting goals." For Christians, however, this human effort, this "self-help project," is not an end in itself; it is the means to a greater end: becoming Easter people. In order to do this, we would do well to eliminate distrac-tions and clutter that keep us from living a simple and focused 194 Review for Religious life. Thus, "giving things up for Lent" is encouraged, provided that the things given up help us become Easter people. With a simple lifestyle we can begin to turn our hearts to their "ground-ing" in God. Likewise; "taking things on for Lent" is encouraged, provided that the things taken on help us become Easter people. Whatever we choose to do or not to do during this season should serve the purpose of reinserting us into this rhythm of life, the cycle of our participation in the growing kingdom of God. Something must be said here about the communal dimension of our participation in this growing, kingdom. Our action should not be thought of as a private action simply for our own personal benefit. Our liturgy, it may be noted, makes no provision for the distribution of ashes outside of the community celebration. We have been marked as a people, not as individuals. The mark of this day is given to everyone in the community, reminding us that we together form one "earth" and that the breath of each of us is from the one God. There can be no division here, no holding one's self apart, for then our land would become desolate and our life barren. We seek life, a life that produces abundant fruit. Ash Wednesday ushers us into a season in which we seek to realize ourselves as ,holy ground" (see Ex 3:5). We prepare the soil of our lives by hard work---the sweat of our brow (see Gn 3:19). Our motivation for doing this work must be the knowledge that we are an Easter people. God's seed is planted intimately and infinitely within our "holy ground." Note ~ Various scriptural and other wordings used herein are from the Ash Wednesday liturgy. March-April 1995 195 ERIK RIECHERS The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal ~atiS a delightful thing to gather together with other believers nd ponder the gospel call to service and mission. Over and over again we have done exactly this in the years since Vatican Council II. Yet many members of the church have grown weary of the tedious deliberations and often angry exchanges that have marked our search for what is needed to bring about church renewal. We have been forced to acknowledge thirty years after the council that the renewal of the church is a far more daunting task than we imagined, one that cannot be well undertaken with-out serious efforts on. the part of all members of the church, laity and clergy, men and women, young and old. Today we realize that our commitment to the church occurs within the stress all of us feel as we find ourselves hurtling along towards the next millennium. We do not have the luxury of stop-ping and quietly reflecting on the next step in our course of action. It is folly to think of preparing for a storm that awaits us. We are already in the throes of that storm. That being said, what does it mean to speak of commitment to the church? Ready answers trip from the tongue, but leave us all just a little cold because they are but repetitions of the party line. Therein lies the nub of our problem. We are focused on Erik Riechers SAC, a member of the Pallottine Secretariat on Apostolate in Rome, serves as the director of the Regional Faith Enrichment Center in Red Deer, Alberta. This article flows from the keynote address at the Church 2000 Archdiocesan Pastoral Assembly in Edmonton, Alberta. His address is 6 McMillan Avenue; Red Deer, Alberta T4N 5X8; Canada. 196 Review for Religious "activities" that express our commitment. Going to Mass, cele-brating the sacraments, attentiveness to the word of God in scrip-ture- study groups, missionary projects, ministerial formation, and community building: all of these are certainly part and parcel of our commitment to Jesus and his church. It was a mistake, how-ever, to believe that this would suffice to renew the church in the spirit of Vatican II. Too often we have acted as if all of these activities would end up creating a new commitment, when in fact they can never be more than the expression of it. Because people have not noticed ¯ this false identification of activity with commitment, it has become possible for all segments of the church to fight for control of structures and activi-ties. Together in this false indentifi-cation, left and right, liberal and conservative, have truly been in col-lusion (see Margaret O'Brien Steinfels, America, 2 May 1992) while quarreling endlessly about which activities must be front and center and which ones must be swiftly and defini-tively relegated to the back benches. The question of the moti-vation behind the activity is forgottenas we place all our faith in a new process, method, or structure. Obviously something must accompany structural renewal in the church. At the heart of all our commitments lie our attitudes. Our thoughts and feelings towards people and organizations deter-mine our willingness to commit ourselves to them. In some fash-ion we must discover value and worth in others before we are willing to invest the time, effort, and energy that commitment entails. As we uncover genuine beauty, truth, and goodness in another, we are drawn to commit ourselves to him or her, to insure that nothing will ever separate us. The process then begins in which we select our priorities, sift our lives, and remove the chaff in order to strengthen the commitment. We make real changes of lifestyle and behavior. We discard some old attitudes. Whenever we are truly committed, we are willing to appraise our thoughts and perceptions and, if necessary, alter them for the sake of that Our thoughts and feelings towards people and organizations determine our willingness to commit ourselves to them. March-April 199Y 197 Riecbers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal to which we are committed. Some of our previous options will not remain intact, for they will be found to be in contradiction with our new commitment and incapable of existing in har.mony with it. Commitment means focus. Focus means concentration, intensity, direction, and clarity, but it also means freely chosen limitations, defined contours, and real surrender. If we would speak of our commitment to the church, we must seriously consider the nature of commitment. Eager as we have been to discard structures, systems, and style~ in our faith com-munities and to adopt new methods, means, and maneuvers, we have failed to realize that, for a renewal of our commitment to the church, what is most needed is an overhaul of our attitudes. Reform in the church has often been brilliantly conceived but abysmally executed. We are like landlords who have seen our apartment ruined by careless and thoughtless tenants. So we evict them, tear down the old lodgings as not worth repairing, con-struct luxury accommodations on the site, and then promptly invite all the old tenants to move back in, without changing their attitude towards our property. In the church we have often pro-vided a new backdrop for the same old prereform attitudes. Our challenge is to change our attitudes towards the dwelling place of God, the temple of the Spirit. If we are committed to the church, we will display the readiness to revisit our attitudes, thoughts, biases, and ecclesial conditioning and alter, discard, or rework anything that hinders the coming of the kingdom. I cannot offer an exhaustive list of new attitudes for genuine reform, but I shall sketch out four attitudes that the modern church stands in need of: (1) an abiding trust in the kingdom, (2) a willingness to deal with complexity and tension as part of eccle-sial existence, (3) a searching desire for inclusivity, and (4) a readi-ness to seek the mysterious God in the daily experience of modern life. An Abiding Trust in the Kingdom This attitude stands in direct contradiction to resignation a]ad despair. Both of these attitudes are far too common in the church. Paul M. Zulehner, a professor of pastoral theology at the University of Vienna, describes the situation very vividly in his bool¢ Wider die Resignation in der Kirche (Against Resignation in the Church). People are annoyed and irritated with the power poli- 198 Review for Religious tics played in the church, especially in their parishes. There is a growing disillusionment at the lack of openness in the church as major problems and cries for understanding are swept under the carpet or ignored, instead of being looked at openly with a will-ingness to listen to the needs of the people of God. All kinds of factions complain about the reforms of Vatican II, some com-plaining that the pace is too slow, some that it is too swift, and some that the attempt at reform has been piecemeal at best. Others complain that there is a lack of compassion towards such intraecclesial minorities as the divorced, homosexuals, and women seeking ministerial equality. Yet others think there is too much compassion towards these same groups. Great numbers feel despair or numb resignation at the sight of empty pews and the exodus of youth. The only antidote for this is an abiding trust in the kingdom. Cardinal Martini of Milan makes this point in his book Von seinem Geist getrieben, reminding the church of the true goal and nature of the church, namely, Jesus and the kingdom. We have forgotten this or have been distracted from it by the daily grind of our lives and by the many insignificant and peripheral things that are part of everyday life in the church. We have introduced changes at times, making the church a social agency or an institution for the advocacy of human rights. At other times we have acted as if the need was to spoon-feed people with spirituality. Martini points out that two activities are essentially true to the nature of the church and require our urgent attention. He finds one of them in Acts 20:20-21, 27, and 31: "You know how I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable, and teaching you in public and from house to house, testifying both to Jews and to Greeks of repentance to God and of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ . For I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God . Therefore be alert, remembering that for three years I did not cease night or day to admonish every one with tears." From this passage Martini draws out the goal of the church in its pastoral activity, namely, to be ceaseless and tireless in it, drawing strength from the Spirit who prompts it to speak, plead, admonish, intercede, and pro-claim. It is not success, but tireless effort for the kingdom, that Paul claims as the glory of the church. Then Martini looks at Acts 2:42: "They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of the March-April 199Y 199 Riecbers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal In the midst of pessimism and despair, where do we give witness to God breaking into the human story? Where is the authentic hope that such a God and his kingdom would bring? bread and the prayers." Here he draws attention to the church achieving its purpose in the apostolic teaching and fellowship, Eucharist and sacramental life, a rich liturgical and prayer life. When it is true to these matters, it is true to its nature and essence. Both of these elements are of critical importance for a people that has an abiding trust in the kingdom, for they speak of the reality of God's command of our situation rather than the need for us to try to control all of life. They are a rebuke to the prophets of doom from both sides who seem to have forgotten that God is still run-ning this show. Much of our challenge to change lies right here. We are constantly deluged with com-plaint from prophets of doom of every faction in the church: Everything is in decline, every-thing getting worse! More crime, violence, and blood-shed, less respect, kindness, and neighborliness! Politicians are more corrupt, economies weaker, and leaders less inspir-ing. Hand in hand with this endless litany of despair is a deep pessimism about our future, our fellow human beings, and our ability to improve matters. But where does our faith in the kingdom enter into this chaotic mess? In the midst of pessimism and despair, where do we give witness to God breaking into the human story? Where is the authentic hope that such a God and his kingdom would bring? Like the parable of the seed growing while the farmer is unaware, we are called to live as church with our action and response dic-tated by the kingdom. We are called to action. We do what we can. We plant seeds and then hope and pray for their fruition. The seeds we plant in God's name grow while we are unaware. We often see nothing at all. There appears to be no growth, no progress, no development. Then suddenly the harvest is surpris- 200 Review for Religious ingly apparent, far beyond our expectations--so much for prophets of doom! Belief in their message of inevitable decline is a subtle but clear refusal to believe in the unstoppable coming and growth of the kingdom. In its place we must announce our faith in the powerful coming of the kingdom of God, a kingdom more powerful than all the evil and deterioration we confront in our Christian lives. The Willingness to Deal with Complexity and Tension This attitude stands in contradiction to fundamentalism, which avoids complexity by reducing everything to simple and clear-cut propositions. Yet life is complex and full of nuances that are demanding and time consuming. Since there is no easy way to sort out the many facets of today's issues and since the resulting weariness often makes us reluctant to deal with matters at hand, fundamentalism proposes reducing everything to a series of sim-ple truths. As tempting as this often is to all of us, as relieving as it might be to fall back on overly simple answers, we usually seek such a fundamentalism only when dealing with others and are horrified when others treat us in the same way. Who of us would gladly accept an unnuanced approach to our lives? Who of us wants our life to be dealt with by being reduced to a few simple truths that omit many relevant details? Instead, we insist on nuances, on pointing out the many little things about us that are not so obvi-ous to others. We feel unloved until we are dealt with as a total-ity. We are deeply hurt when others refuse to recognize and deal with our complexity. If we are unwilling to deal with the complexity of issues in the community of faith, we behave in a sim!larly unloving way-- from the need we feel for relevance and success. Relevance insists tha.t everything be clear, that there be a determined purpose and definite means to achieve it. When issues are clouded or uncer-tain and when a distinct and manageable solution cannot be found, we deem the issues irrelevant. If we cannot state the purpose of something, cannot show the inner logic or demonstrate the ratio-nale, then the matter is irrelevant. We buy into this heresy. Our question is not relevance, but simply: Is it loving? Henri Nouwen warns of the temptation of rel-evance in his book In the Name of Jesus. After describing the drive March-April 199Y 201 Riecbers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal There is an amazing willingness to segregate, isolate, and separate those we do not understand or cannot agree with. for relevance in our society and the lack of interest or need for the spiritual answers to the pragmatic problems of our world, Nouwen goes on to write: "In this climate of secularization, Christian lead-ers feel less and less relevant and more and more marginal. Many begin to wonder why they should stay in the ministry. Often they leave, develop a new competency, and join their contemporaries in their attempts to make relevant contributions to a better world. But there is a completely different story to tell. Beneath all the great accomplishments of our time, there is a deep current of despair. While efficiency and control are the great aspirations of our society, loneliness, isolation, lack of friend-ship and intimacy, broken relation-ships, boredom, feelings of emptiness and depression, and a deep sense of uselessness fill the hearts of millions of people in our success-oriented world" (pp. 20-21). Relevance alone is but another way of avoiding the complexity of a world that never can be reduced to the merely efficient and successful. Success is another way by which we circumvent the need to deal with complexity in our church. By reduc-ing everything to the question of success and the measurement thereof, we have done violence to life itself. There is more to life than success. But it is difficult to convince people that success is an idol, even though thousands and thousands practically adore the successful and venerate their achievement. Can success be an idol, they think, if good and decent people aspire after it and dream of it? For many of us, success is everything. The successful peer out at us in every mag-azine and TV program. Few seem to be interested in those who gave it "the old college try," but failed to walk away with the tro-phy. The danger has been going unnoticed while we kept applying the criteria of success to our faith lives and communities as well. We felt that faith and community must lead to achievement; there 202 Review for Religious must be something to show for it in the end; success stories must be written, goals must be attained, and trophies must be won. St. Paul does not approve of this way of thinking. Run the race to the finish, yes; fight the good fight, yes. But he does not say that he won the race or the fight. He makes it clear that he continues to strain forward and not quit the struggle. Paul changes the crite-ria: not success, but striving. Success is not one of the names of God. To struggle is to love. Jesus himself teaches us this in the parable of the pharisee and the tax collector. He points out that the tax collector struggles, keeps fighting to be good. The pharisee is conscious only of suc-cess, of his list of achievements, becoming so proud of success that he thinks he can stop running the race. He is not justified because he has not loved enough to struggle for humility, to see the tax collector as his brother, to recognize his dependence upon God. As a community of faith, we must call to mind that we strug-gle only for what we love. We human beings make no effort for what we consider unimportant, insignificant. We do not invest in what leaves us indifferent or cold. We demonstrate no will-ingness to put out for what does not touch us. Only what we love awakens in us the willingness to struggle, and it is the struggle of another for us that puts to rest the notion that success alone is important. In fact, struggle met with failure often speaks more eloquently of the love given us than success that was achieved effortlessly. We need only think of people's valiant struggles to deal with adolescent problems, marriage difficulties, and the com-munity's weaknesses and foibles to know this truth. The Searching Desire for Inclusivity Here we are faced with an attitude that resists the individu-alism and polarization of modern community, a polarization that Paul Zulehner claims has exacted a very high price. People have moved on to other things, sought out places where they could feel at home. The official representatives of the church are often distant from the reality of the people in the pews. There is a sense that they do not understand the struggle of many parts of the church (such as the youth, women, and the laity). There is little or no sharing in leadership issues or in choice of leaders, no dia-logue between leadership and people. As a result, people can no Marcb-April 1995 203 Riechers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal longer easily see the presence of Jesus. The phenomenal success of Joseph Girzone's Joshua series speaks of this loss of trans-parency. Few things are transparent. Processes in the church are secretive and incomprehensible. The consequence is polarization, with each group racing to achieve its own agenda or place it at the top of the church's list of things to do. All of these things are the result of a lack of inclusivity. There is an amazing willingness to segregate, isolate, and separate those we do not understand or cannot agree with. There is a remarkable readiness simply to rid ourselves of pesky people. We watch with considerable indifference as some of the people walk away, and we are rather glad that we no longer have to deal with their trou-blesome issues and pains. Instead we must strive for a greater inclusivity, as befits a peo-ple of the kingdom. Jesus practices a greater inclusivity by whom he invites to the table of fellowship. Paul emphasizes this divinely rooted inclusivity in the stirring words of Galatians: "There can be neither Jew nor Greek, there can be neither slave nor free-man, there can be neither male nor female--for you are all one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 4:28). To recapture inclusivity, there must be a return to the practice of mutual complementarity as expressed with such brilliance in the Pauline image of the Body of Christ. We must move even deeper and return, in the words of Bruno Forte, to the trinitarian homeland of the faith and realize that the church is the icon of the Trinity, not a mere corporate recog-nition of the Trinity, but an efficacious expression of it. A trinitarian love dynamic entails a move from union to indi-viduality and back, with each person a giver and receiver at the same time and each spontaneously and freely taking the initia-tive in loving. Forte reminds us of this trinitarian rootedness of the church: "Coming from above, springing forth from the Trinity, the church is also structured after the image of the Trinity--one in diversity, communion of different charisms and ministries brought about by one Spirit, the church lives by that circulation of love of which trinitarian life is, besides its source, the incomparable model" (The Trinity as History, p. 207). Herein lies for us the anti-dote for a polarized church: to form communion rooted in the life of the Trinity. Jeffrey Imbach, in his book The Recovery of Love, makes the same point: "Love in the Trinity is both the passion to be One and the passion to be Unique . The exchange of love in the Trinity 204 Review for Religious is neither the embrace of a union so total that there is no dis-tinction left, nor is it the celebration of separate persons. It is both, and both simultaneously, each flowing out of the other . The quintessence of spiritual experience is to enter as deeply as possi-ble into the simultaneous flowing of love between Unity and Plurality, between losing oneself in Union, bursting forth into fruitful uniqueness and losing ourselves again in union" (pp. 78-79). Readiness to Seek the Mysterious God in the Daily Experience of Modem Life There remain among us great illusions that only the old ways will do, even long after the opposite is painfully obvious in the church. We cling to the forms as if they could save us: Roman collars, the liturgical use of Latin, or Communion on the tongue. As a result, a great gap between modern human experience and the language and imagery of the church has developed. A new lan-guage is needed, a new way of speaking about God. Terminology can never be allowed to become more important than communi-cation. Langdon Gilkey's influential work has reminded us that revelation uses whatever history offers as a medium of commu-nication. Innovative ministries exist, but they create furor when they do not match what came before. In many ways we seem totally foreign to the world around us. While many have deemed this to be a positive sign of our distinctiveness from the world or our unwillingness to stray from the tradition, it is in fact rooted in a distressing lack of faith. The moment we refuse to adapt, we are claiming that God has .spoken once, in one way and one form. There is no room for God to maneuver. Such an attitude betrays an underlying unwillingness to believe that God could work through new people, styles, places, and means. It is an arbitrary and ahistoricalapproach to the real-ity of the church. We would do well to heed St. Vincent Pallotti's reminder. "Seek God and you will find him. Seek him in all things and you will find him in all things. Seek-him always and you will find him always." There is so much to be done, but we are afraid to do it. There is always an excuse in the church for not acting: "People are not ready, they will not accept new attitudes . . . it will upset people and we will be misunderstood and maligned., it is only a drop in the bucket., we cannot change it all." We are, of course, not March-April 1995 205 Riechers ¯ The Elusive Reality of Church Renewal called to change it all. We are called to live church well wher-ever we stand: parish, diocesan commission, school, office, or meeting room. We all wish to receive love, yet few wish to initiate its giving-- from an inaccurate perception of the way of love. Giving and receiving do not stand opposed. Through God's grace we can give love and receive it in one fluid motion, but this happens only when we trust more in God's revealed love in Jesus Christ than in any model we ourselves may come up with. St. Vincent Pallotti offers us a fine prayer to remind us of this God-centered reality we so badly need: "By myself I can do nothing. With God I can do everything. Out of love for God I will do all. Give honor to God." Compassion 0 healing Christ, look with your pity's gentleness into the old-wise eyes of the child who has tasted suffering too soon. Grace with your sweetness the endurance of such pain that leaves these little ones, your companions to Calvary, no strength to complain. Judith Powell 206 Review for Religious : ROBERT P. MALONEY Providence Revisited Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead thou me on! . . . Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene--one step enough for me. --John Henry Newman Saints like St. Vincent de Paul speak of providence with great conviction. They see God's plan at work every-where. They invoke providence to encourage those who find themselves groping in the darkness, to strengthen those experiencing pain,' to slow down the hasty, to pro-mote initiative in those planning the future. This essay will (1) analyze the idea of providence in the spoken words, writings, and life of St. Vincent (1581-1660), who founded the Congregation of the Mission and the Daughters of Charity; (2) will describe some fundamental shifts that have taken place in thinking between the 17th and 20th centuries; and (3) will "revisit!' providence today. Providence in St. Vincent de Paul It is utterly clear, as one tea& St. Vincent, how impor-tant a role providence plays for him. At times his words are eloquent. He writes to Jean Barreau, the French consul in Algiers: "We cannot better assure our eternal happi- Robert P. Maloney CM serves as superior general of the Congregation of the Mission (Vincentian Fathers and Brothers). His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Rome, Italy. March-April 1995 207 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited ness than by living and dying in the service of the poor, in the arms of providence, and with genuine renouncement of ourselves in order to follow Jesus Christ" (SVIII, 392).~ Vincent offers no systematic philosophical or theological anal-ysis of providence. But the documents we possess, especially his letters, written for particular occasions and for individuals whose personalities were quite varied, give us considerable insight into how he understood it. God has a hidden plan which works consistently for good. We owe some of Vincent's most striking statements on prov-idence to St. Louise de Marillac, who joined with him in found- ¯ ing the Daughters of Charity. As she struggled, particularly in the upbringing of her son Michel, she disclosed her pain to Vincent. He encouraged her to do her best, to be at peace, and to place the rest in God's hands. In 1629 he writes: "I wish you good evening and hope that you are no longer weeping over the hap-piness of your little Michel . Mon Dieu, my daughter, what great hidden treasures there are in holy providence and how mar-velously our Lord is honored by those who follow it aitd do not try to get ahead of i!!" (SVI, 68). The need to follow providence comes up again and again as Vincent writes to various confreres durin~ his lengthy negotiations to get the vows of the Congregation of the Mission approved and to acquire a residence in Rome. In 1640 he tells Louis Lebreton, who was encountering obstacles in trying to get a house for the Congregation: "I know that nothing can be added to your dili-gence and that this [situation] is not due to you personally, neither to your zeal nor your handling of the matter. Our Lord has given you both and is directing this matter according to the order of his eternal providence. Be assured, Monsieur, that you will see in this situation that it is for the best, and I think I can already see it as clearly as the light of day. Oh, Monsieur, how good it is to let oneself be guided by his providence!" (SVII, 137). Vincent appeals to God's hidden plan in many varied cir-cumstances: to explain the surprising success of the works he has started, to console the Company when speaking of the sickness or death of missionaries, to encourage those who have lost their par-ents, to find meaning in the sudden departure of missionaries or Daughters of Charity from the Company, to urge the Company to accept calumny and persecution with courage,z 208 Review for Religious He is so convinced of how important it is that the Daughters of Charity be led by providence that he even imagines their being called Daughters of Providence: "Oh, my Daughters, you should have such great devotion to, such great confidence and love in, divine providence that, if providence itself had not given you the beautiful name of Daughters of Charity, you should bear that of Daughters of Providence, for it was providence that brought you into being.''3 Grace has its moments; God's plan will be revealed to those who wait peace-fully and patiently. This theme comes through very strongly in Vincent's letters to the impetuous Bernard Codoing, the superior in Rome, who often aroused the founder's ire by mov-ing too quickly or too brusquely. After rebuking Codoing rather sharply in a letter written on 7 December 1641 and after telling him to act with greater delibera-tion, Vincent adds: "Reflecting on all the principal events that have taken place in this Company, it seems to me, and this is quite evi-dent, that, if they had taken place before they did, they would not have been successful. I say that of all of them, without except-ing a single one. That is why I have a particular devotion to fol-lowing the adorable providence of God step by step. And my only consolation is that I think our Lord alone has carried on and is constantly carrying on the business of the Little Company" (SV II, 208). On 16 March 1644 Vincent reprimands Codoing for interfering in matters that are not his concern, urges him to attend to his own affairs, and reminds him that providence will take care of the rest. "Grace has its moments," he tells him (SVII, 453). In Vincent's writings, there is a clear tension between activ-ity and passivity. His attitude depended greatly on the circum-stances. For instance, in trying to moderate the indiscreet zeal of Philippe le Vacher, he urges passivity: "The good that God wishes Vincent is so convinced of how important it is that the Daughters of Charity be led by providence that he even imagines their being called Daughters of Providence. March-April 1995 209 Maloney * Providence Revisited The close link between doing the will of God and following providence is a recurrent theme in Vincent's letters. to be done comes about almost by itself, without our thinking about it. That is the way that the congregation was born, that the missions and the retreats to ordinands began, that the Company of the Daughters of Charity came into being . Mon Dieu! Monsieur, how I desire that you would moderate your ardor and weigh things maturely on the scale of the sanctuary before resolving them! Be passive rather than active. In that way God will do through you alone what the whole world together could not do without him" (SVIV, 122- 123). He often emphasizes this theme to Louise de Marillac, encouraging her to be patient in awaiting the action of God.4 In all this it is quite evident that Vincent abhorred rushing. He tells oth-ers that "God's spirit is neither violent nor hasty," "his works have their moment," they are done "almost by themselves," they are accomplished "little by little." He tells Codoing, "If necessity urges us to make haste, then let it be slowly, as the wise proverb says.''5 But there is also another side to Vincent's teaching. We are God's coworkers, so we must make haste, even i~slowly. With Etienne Blatiron, the superior in Rome in 1655, Vincent's emphasis shifts subtly as he makes it clear that he is eager for some action: "Do not stop pursuing our business, with confi-dence that it is God's good pleasure . Let us act., in nego-tiating one of the most important affairs that the congregation will ever have" (SVV, 396). The tension between activity and passivity, within Vincent himself is evident in another letter he writes to Etienne Blatiron, 12 November 1655. He comments favorably on a practice that Blatiron has begun of asking, through the intercession of St. Joseph, for the spread of the Company. He adds reflectively: "For twenty years I have not dared to ask that of God, thinking that, since the congregation is his work, we should leave to his provi-dence alone the responsibility for its conservation and its growth. 210 Review for Religious But, struck by the recommendation made to us in the gospel to ask him to send laborers into the harvest, I have become convinced of the importance and usefulness of this devotion.''6 Finally, if we should be tempted to interpret Vincent's teach-ing on providence too passively, we might recall the founder's words to Edme Jolly: "You are one of the few men who honor the providence of God very much by the preparation of reme-dies against foreseen evils, I thank you very humbly for this and pray that our Lord will continue to enlighten you more and more so that such enlightenment may spread through the Company" (SVVII, 310). There is an intimate link, in St. I/Tncent's teaching, between following providence and doing the will of God in all things. One of the early, abiding influences on Vincent's thought is Benedict of Canfield's Rule of Perfection, in which doing the will of God in all things is described as the central element in the spir-itual life.7 From many of the citations above, the reader has already noted how central doing the will of God is for Vincent. In the period of Louise de Marillac's anguish over her son Michel's future, he writes to her about another problem concerning a small infant and then adds: "In any case, God will provide for the child and for your son as well, without your giving way to anxiety about what will become of him. Give the child and the mother to our Lord. He will take good care of you and your son. Just let him do his will in you and in him and await it in all your exercises. All you need do is devote yourself entirely to God. Oh, how little it takes to be very holy: to do the will of God in all things" (8VII, 36). The close link between doing the will of God and following providence is a recurrent theme in Vincent's letters. He writes to Ren~ Almeras on 10 May 1647: "Oh, Monsieur, what a happiness to will nothing but what God wills, to do nothing but what is in accord with the occasion providence presents, and to have noth-ing but what God in his providence has given us!" (SVIII, 188). St. Vincent's teaching on providence rests on two foundation stones: (I) deep confidence in God as a loving father and (2) indifference, that is, detachment from anything that impedes us from "willing only what he wills" (see SVV, 403). Trust in providence is the ability to place oneself in the hands of God as a loving father. "Let us give ourselves to God," Vincent March-April 1995 211 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited says repeatedly to the Vincentians and to the Daughters of Charity.8 He has deep confidence in God as his Father, into whose hands he can place himself and his works. The journal written by Jean Gicquel recounts how Vincent, on 7 June 1660, just four months before his death, said to Fathers ~klmeras, Berthe, and Gicquel: "To be consumed for God, to have no goods or power except for the purpose of consuming them for God--that is what our Savior did himself, who was consumed for love of his Father" (SVXIII, 179). Vincent wanted love for God to be all-embracing. He writes to Pierre Escart: "I greatly hope we may set about stripping our-selves entirely of affection for anything that is not God, be attached to things only for God and according to God, and that we may seek and establish his kingdom first of all in ourselves and then in others. That is what I entreat you to ask of him for me." (SVII, 106). Vincent is profoundly convinced that, because God loves us deeply as a father, he exercises a continual providence in our lives. He tells the Daughters: "To have confidence in providence means that we should hope that God takes care of those who serve him, as a husband takes care of his wife or a father of his child. That is how--and far more truly--God takes care of us. We have only to abandon ourselves to his guidance, as the Rule says, just as 'a little child does to its nurse.' If she puts it on her right arm, the child is quite content; if she moves him over to her left, he does not care; he is quite satisfied provided he has her breast. We should, then, have the same confidence in divine providence, see-ing that it takes care of all that concerns us, just as a nursing mother takes care of her baby." (SVX, 503). Speaking of the providence which Jesus himself has for his followers, Vincent tells Jean Martin in 1647: "So, Father, let us ask our Lord that everything may be done in accordance with his providence, that our wills be submitted to him in such a way that between him and us there may be only one, which will enable us to enjoy his unique love in time and in eternity" (SVIII, 197). One notes here again the strong influence of Benedict of Canfield on Vincent. Indifference, for Vincent, is detachment from all things that would keep us from God. It sets us free to be united with him, dis-posihg us to will only what he wills. It is indispensably linked with trust in providence. He tells Louise de Marillac how close our 212 Review for Religious Lord is to all who cooperate with his will. He repeats this advice to her again and again: "It is necessary to accept God's way of acting toward yotir Daughters, to offer them to him, and to remain in peace. The Son of God saw his company dispersed and almost wiped out forever. You must unite your will with his.''9 He speaks lyrically to the Daughters of Charity on the theme: "To do the will of God is to begin paradise in this world. Give me a Daughter who does for her whole life the will of God. She begins to do on earth what the blessed do in heaven. She begins her paradise even in this world" (SV IX, 645). Some Horizon Shifts between the 17th and 20th Centuries ¯ The problematic which I have described in my article on the cross applies to providence as well; I will not, therefore, repeat it here.1° A theology of the cross and a theology of providence are closely intertwined. This is evident in the writings of St. Vincent and St. Louise, where the two themes often occur in the same context,li Keeping in mind what has already been stated about the cross, here I will mention only briefly two other factors that influence the way one views providence, namely, two horizon shifts that have taken place between Vincent's time and ours. We have moved from an era which emphasized direct causality to one which focuses on secondary causes and emphasizes the autonomy of the human person. This shift was already taking place in Vincent's time. Today it is very much a part of the air We breathe. In a scientific era one focuses on empirical data. Both well-being and disease are attributed to discernible causes, rather than directly to God. Even when the cause of a diseaseis unknown, we search for it today with the conviction that it will eventually be found. In that con-text, attributing good or evil to God's providence can sometimes sound quaint or occasionally hollow. Even worse, when someone is confronted with serious problems, the exhortation to abandon oneself to provider~ce may run contrary to prudence, which urges us to seek remedies for our ills. Of course, this shift in emphasis is not an entirely new way of looking at things. Catholic moral theology has, in fact, consis-tently placed strong emphasis on the role of secondary causes, March-April 199Y 213 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited since it has always placed great emphasis on human responsibil-ity. Moreover, Catholic systematic theology, with its stress on mediation, has often similarly accented secondary causes.~2 Particularly since Gaudium et spes, Catholic theology has empha-sized the autonomy of the human person (see GS §§4, 9, 12, 14, 15, 22). One is surely slower today than in Vincent's time to attribute things directly to God when they are more evidently of human doing. We are conscious too that this way of thinking "lets God be God," so to speak. It recognizes his ultimate autonomy, his com-plete otherness. It recognizes too that his causality does not dimin-ish human freedom, but is the ground for it; in fact, dependence on God and genuine human autonomy increase, rather than decrease, in direct proportion to one another.13 God's power does not enslave human beings; it empowers them (see GS §34). In this perspective the human person is seen as being in pro-cess, as incomplete, as openness to the absolute. Change is accepted not only as inevitable, but as desirable. Rapid change, moreover, has become part of life, and its rate seems to be grow-ing exponentially. In an age of computers, we are convinced-that we can "make things happen" and that we can eventually find the solution to almost all problems that arise. There has been a shift from a static way of viewing the world to a his-torical way. The ways in which we view the world, the human person, and God are intimately intertwined. Our view of providence is affected by all of these. Different ways of viewing these realities charac-terize different epochs, but they often also exist simultaneously within the same epoch. Here, let me briefly describe three.~4 In a static understanding, such as prevailed in the 15th and 16th centuries and into Vincent's time, the view of the human person is ahistorical. Society's established orders are accepted as divinely willed. External laws and rules prevail. The political, economic, and social spheres are governed by the established laws. Within this context the emphasis in one's view of God is on the Absolute, the All-Powerful, the Omnipresent, the Omniscient. In speaking of providence one sees God as ruling over all and directing all. Faith in providence takes the form of abandonment and absolute confidence in God's plan, which never fails. As is evident, this perspective has brought rich benefits to the lives of 214 Review for Religious many saints, including Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac, but there is a danger for some that this understanding of God's providence can lead to escapism or lack of responsibility. In a personalist understanding of reality, which has emerged increasingly since the 18th century as the "rights of man" have come to be emphasized, the autonomy and liberty of the human person come to the fore. Human responsibility and creativity are accented. In ethics the emphasis lies on interiorization and conscience. In theology, history and process are highlighted. The church is seen as the Body of Christ. In speaking of God one emphasizes his per-sonal love as Father. In talking about prov-idence, one sees God as guiding us all in our personal histories. God loves us. He walks with us. He leads us. While there are many advantages to this perspective, par-ticularly on the level of conviction about God's love and the need for personal conversion, there is a dan-ger that this understanding of God and providence can fall into "intimism." In a sociohistorical understanding of reality, the emphasis is on ¯ the interrelationship of people within a societal context and the building up of the human family. In ethics social responsibility is highlighted. The transformation of society and sociopolitical real-ity is underlined. Sin too shows up as social.15 There is a call to change unjust social structures. In theology the trinitarian God is emphasized. The church is viewed as the people of God, living in a permanent exodus. When one speaks of providence, one speaks of God as the liberator of his people, freeing them from the bonds of oppression. This perspective has the advantage of moving toward the concrete and fundamental resolution of social problems that keep the poor poor; for some it bears the risk of falling into an activism that loses focus on God's ways. God's power does not enslave human beings; it empowers them. Revisiting Providence Today There is much reexamination of providence today, with a view toward articulating a theology that, while recognizing various levels of causality, accounts for both the rational and irrational March-April 1995 215 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited within human existence and can find meaning where we experi-ence chaos, disorder, violence, and apathy.16 A theology of prov-idence is at root a theology of meaning. It seeks to bridge the gap between the polarities of human experience: design/chaos, health/sickness, life/death, grace/sin, care/noncare, plan/disrup-tion, peace/violence. Ministers of providence are those men and women whose lives witness to meaning and who can speak mean-ing. Docility to providence is an attitude of reverent trust before the mystery of God as revealed in Christ, in whom life, death, and resurrection are integrated.17 Trust in providence means rootedness in a loving, personal God. Belief in providence shows itself throughout history not so much in credal statements as in the trusting words of daily prayer. It is inseparable from faith in a loving, personal God. The human mind balks at mystery. Yet we encounter it again and again at the base of our deepest joys and our deepest sorrows. Birth, death, beauty, tragedy--all are shrouded in mystery. We continually struggle to reconcile opposites, to plumb the depths of life and death. As early as the 5th century B.C., the Greeks, particularly the Stoics, used the term proT?idence to denote a rational order of things where a divine reason pervades everything. This term enters the Old Testament rather late in the books of Job and Wisdom, where it joins an earlier strain that focuses not so much on a philo-sophical concept of cosmic harmony as on God acting in history. This fundamental Old Testament belief sees God as allied with his people. He is active in creating, covenanting, chastising, forgiv-ing, liberating. He is with his people both in their conquests and in their captivity. He goes with them into exile, and he returns with them. "Can a mother forget her infant, be without tender-ness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. See, upon the palms of my hands I ha~e written your name" (Is 49:15-16). This provident.God of the Hebrew Scriptures is the God of Jesus Christ. He is the Father whom Jesus loves and who cap-tures his entire attention. Jesus' death and resurrection are the ultimate proclamation of providence. At the heart of New Testament faith is belief in a personal God, who reveals himself as Father in his Son, Jesus, who takes on human flesh. Jesus him-self struggles with the mysteries of life, growth, success, desertion 216 Review for Religious by his followers, pain, and death. He finds the resolution o.f the struggle not in some clearly stated philosophy that he outlines for future ages, but in commending himself into the hands of his Father. He trusts that his Father loves him deeply and that he can bring joy from sorrow, life from death. The New Testament, reflecting on Jesus' experience, tells us again and again to focus on the personal love of God for us. Jesus extols, in a passage that Vincent loved, God's providence for his children: "Consider the lilies of the field. They do not work; they do not spin. Yet I assure you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was arrayed like one of these. If God can clothe in such splendor the grass of the field, which blooms today and is thrown on the fire tomorrow, will he not provide much more for you, O weak in faith.".18 Luke's writings, especially, highlight God's providence.19 The Spirit of the Father and of Jesus is active from the beginning in Luke, guiding the course of history. He anoints Jesus with power from on high and directs him and his dis-ciples in their ministry.2° One of the crucial signs of faith in a personal God is confi-dent prayer. The very act of praying states that we believe that God is alive, that he relates to us, that he listens, that he cares about our journey, that he hears the cries of the poor especially, and that he responds. It is for this reason that Luke's Gospel insists so frequently on trusting, persistent prayer.2~ Docility to providence is an attitude of reverent trust before the mystery of God as revealed in Christ, in whom life, death, and resurrection are integrated. Trust in providence is the ability to hope in God's wisdom and power. Trust in providence implies trust that there is an unseen wis-dom that guides the events of history and that is able to reconcile opposites. We sometimes get glimpses of a larger picture where tragedy works for good. Destructive floods provide fertile land March-April 199Y 217 Maloney ¯ Providence Revisited for the future. Enormous fires ravage forests, doing huge damage, but purifying them for luxuriant growth in the future. Pain and suffering at times mature a person and help him or her to grow in compassion and understanding for others. In a striking Greek myth, the infant Demopho6n is placed in the care of the divine mother Demeter, who caresses him, nurses him, breathes on him, and anoints him with ambrosia. At night she places him in a fire to make him immortal. When his mother dis-covers this, she cries out in fear. But Demeter responds: "You do not know when fate is bringing you something good or some-thing bad!" Demeter is giving a lesson in nursing. She shows that motherhood involves nurturing not only in human ways, but also in divine ways. Holding the child in the fire is a way of burning away those el

Issue 53.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1994. ; ChriStian Heritages and Contempora~ Living MAY-J~ !994 ¯ VOIdUME 531 ¯ NUMBER3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific libraw clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1994 " VOLUME53 ¯ NUMBER3 contents 326 feature Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority Janet K. Ruffing RSM explores the Christian concepts of power and the developmental stages which lead to sharing power and to healing the wounds of authority we all bear. 34O 352 life in flux Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark Jane Ferdon OP and George Murphy SJ draw from their experience of spiritual direction to shed light upon some of the darkness experienced by women and men religious. Merging Provinces Gerald A. Arbuckle SM brings insights from cultural anthropology to the process of merging congregational provinces. 364 One Voice from the Middle Place Judith Ann Eby RSM speaks out as part of a new generation which interprets religious life differently from those whose background includes the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. 375 life in service Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Catherine Harmer MMS suggests that for the good of Catholic institutions it is time for religious to let go of some things and for lay people to take them on so that both groups can act at their best. 386 Being and Acting Holy for Ministry's Sake Clyde A. Bonar proposes some practical ways of being about our one ministry: to be holy. 397 Missionary by Nature William F. Hogan CSC focuses attention upon the essential missionary aspect of every Christian and religious vocation. 322 Review for Rellg~ous life of witness 402 How to Read the Lives of Saints of Old 415 Frederick G. McLeod SJ gives some helps for our understanding and appreciating the richness of meaning found in the lives of saints of old. Prayer Francis J. Ring SJ offers his personal history of praying as a support for all pilgrims in their prayer life. reflective life 420 Even at the Grave We Make Our Song Margaret Bullitt-Jonas explores how three symbols--the crucifixion, the resurrection, and the ascension of Jesus Christ-- came to life as she prayed over her infant daughter's death. 436 A Letter to Dead Parents about Today's Life Eileen O'Hea CSJ writes about her present-day experience of religious life. 440 452 46O religious life in perspective Journeying to God Together Susan Beaudry PM and Edwin L. Keel SM suggest that what religious have to offer the people of God is the experience of the spiritual journey, with its wisdom and skills. Charism as Sonnet: Developmental Considerations S. Suzanne Mayer IHM offers various perspectives on living the charisms of religious life for the dynamic of personal growth. Hispanic Faith and Culture--and U.S.A. Religious Gloria In~s Loya PBVM explains the pillars, of ministry, community, and spirituality .which support religious life in a Mexican-American setting. departments 324 Prisms 467 Canonical Counsel: Directives for the Relationship between Bishops and Religious: Mutuae Relationes 473 Book Reviews May-.lWune 1994 323 prisms E those of us living in the midwestern part of the United States, the spring and early summer seasons bless us with a burst of flowering trees and shrubs and a continuing array of nature's living vari-ety. Obviously all these signs of life are not created out of nothing each year. In fact, the changing seasons remind us of how much life remains hidden from our daily human perspective. Seeds look to be so dry and lifeless. Even in planting them in lawn or garden, we can only wonder about and wait for the activities of life still hidden from our sight. Oceans appear to our eyes as only a huge volume of water, but oceans teem with life--mostly hidden beneath the sur-face- which marine biologists endlessly discover and observe and marvel at. If we buy into the impressions promoted by contem-porary advertising, we find ourselves acting as if what we see is what life is all about. Life as sold by secular culture seems to bankrupt itself in surface impressions. Just how limited such a vision of life is quicHy becomes apparent when we deal with moral and religious issues of human living. Abortion only becomes an option if people keep human life out of sight. Arguments for abortion deal with choices and rights, with nary a thought about the hid-denness of human life. "Ethnic cleansing," whether it be in E~rope, Africa, Asia, or America, is a cosmetic phrase to disguise the deadly idea that some peoples are more deserving of life than others. Put into practice, this deadly idea joins the age-old slave trading, the Nazi concentra-tion camps, and futuristic scientific cloning as another 324 Reviezv for Religious sadly and horrendously narrow human mishandling of human life. For all the words about environment and ecology and quality of human life, we seem unable to reverence the mystery of life-- visible life and hidden life--with which our world abounds. For the young Christian community at Colossae, St. Paul used the pregnant phrase that "our life is hidden now with Christ in God." Perhaps we need to reflect more on the hiddenness of our faith life and thereby come to an appreciation and reverence for the hiddenness of life in general. The fledgling Christian com-munity at Colossae realized that in everyday life they looked pretty much the same as everyone else. They ate, they drank, they sometimes went hungry, they married and had families, they got sick, they died; they had joys and sorrows. They gathered, of course, for Eucharist, and their concern and care for one another and anyone in need did give them some mark of distinctiveness. But overall they lived with a new reverence for life--from the very young to the very old. Why? Because the risen Christ in whom they all were baptized had brought them into a new rela-tionship to God and to one another--a relationship subtle as the Spirit but as real as the risen Christ himself. As Saul (now Paul the writer) experienced and many other persecutors have learned since his day, a voice insists that it is Jesus whom they persecute. We Christians hear Jesus insisting, "If you do it to the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you are doing it to me." We touch here the source of the hidden life we all live in Christ. But Jesus does more than affect the hiddenness of human relationships--whatever tribe or nationality, religious affiliation or secular lifestyle. Because Jesus has taken on the darkness and hid-denness of suffering and death and by his rising joined it into a new fullness of life, the physical world in which we live is not the same as it was. Suffering and death are not just problems to be solved and if possible eliminated; suffering and death, now seen in a wholly new relationship to life in the risen Christ, must also be met with reverence. In the midst of all our necessary human efforts to relieve the suffering in our world, we believers stand with reverence before suffering, lfor we know. with the sureness of faith that because of Christ life lies hidden even in suffering, sometimes especially in suffering. Therein, deep down, like life in winter, lives Christian joy and the root of Christian reverence for life. David L. Fleming SJ May-ffvtne 1994 325 feature JANET K. RUFFING Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority The FORUS study in its general conclusions identified authority as "perhaps the most pressing question for reli-gious to resolve."' Underneath the question of authority, I find at least two foundational themes which need to be explored--the meaning of leadership in religious congre-gations in light of differing interpretations of power and authority and the specifically religious qualities of lead-ership. As I study the current research on religious life, I continue to uncover the deep ground of grace out of which religious life grows and flourishes. I remain convinced that we cannot hope to understand the reality of contem-porary religious life without probing this depth level of religious experience. The present theological, interdisci-plinary, experiential reflections address such questions as: Leadership for what? VChat obstacles impede our ability to collaborate? Part II addresses questions about religious leadership: How do leaders support the ongoing conver-sion implied as we discover new dimensions of the Christ mystery in our lives and ministries? What ultimately sus-tains us in our calling? "Authority in many U.S. institutions, including reli-gious life, has.undergone deconstruction. Variable under- Janet Ruffing RSM is associate professor in spirituality and spir-itual direction in the Graduate School of Religion and Religious Education at Fordham University. Her address is GSRRE, Fordham University; 441 E. Fordham Road; Bronx, New York 10458-5169. The second part of her article, "If Christ Is Growing in U~," will appear in our July-August 1994 issue. 326 Review for Religious standings of consensus, subsidiarity, discernment, and leadership have diffused understandings of authority. The abuse of author-ity in the past makes individuals reluctant to endorse authority in any way.''2 It is clear from the FORUS study that these differ-ing views of authority and the corresponding understandings of obedience exist within single institutes as well as across insti-tutes. As a result, leadership is sometimes severely impaired in its ability to lead; while in other instances leadership is experi-enced as empowering and free-ing for mission. Authority functions and is understood differently when charism is taken seriously and when governance takes adult discipleship into account. Women religious particularly have been redefining the mean-ing of obedience and authority in ways particularly suited to their awareness of their needs and desires as women. The FORUS study reports that vision groups "view authority as power that is shared among commu-nities of equals,''3 These changes in understandings of authority are related to how such a vision of power and authority and the impli-cations for redefining a vow of obedience appear, to many women to be more compatible with gospel values than does the post- Tridentine version of authority. Women religious as a group, espe-cially at the level of leadership, are pressing for a more enabling exercise of power among themselves. Although religious desire to maintain an ecclesial identity, the FORUS study reports a "lowered respect for the magisterial authority of the church and the U.S. hierarchy in general.''4 According to this study, women are acutely aware of their exclu-sion from leadership by the clerical church. Women religious are looking at church in new ways; they have embraced a clear com-mitment to changing this church. Clerical resistance to this change will further diminish the capacity of women's communities to Apostolic religious women will not fully stabilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until ecclesial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. NIay-j~ne 1994 327 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way attract the very women who are looking for a public context in society and church that is meaningful for their dedication and service. In my opinion, apostolic religious women will not fully sta-bilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until eccle-sial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. This includes not only resolving the role of women in the church but also arriving at an operative consensus of the role of the church in the modern world. Religious are in a real sense church people whose mission and identity lie at the heart of the ~hurch's own. The Brooldand Commission Study reported that 94 percent of their respondents named the self-understanding of the church developed in the wake of Vatican II to be a source in forming their ideas about what is essential to religious life.s To the extent that the larger church is ambiEalent about the directions set by the council, religious life will con-tinue to be at risk. In the context of these recent studies which indicate both sig-nificant change and continuing confusion, I will describe the psy-choanalytic roots of our attitudes toward authority, explore several concepts of power disclosed in the New Testament, and reflect on women and power. I will end with the Whiteheads' descriptions of both the developmental stages which lead to sharing power in Christian communities and the necessary task of healing the wounds of authority which we all bear. Formative Experiences with Authority One's basic stance toward authority, those whom I perceive to be "in charge" or more powerful than I, is usually determined by my early experiences with my mother and father and then with institutional authorities such as teachers and other authority fig-ures. This experience forms how I relate to God as an ultimate authority, how I relate to situations of injustice, how I relate to my own authority, and. how I relate to ambiguous authority. (Ambiguous authority refers to that exercise of authority which is usually benign but which is occasionally overbearing or oppres-sive.) If my experience has been one in which authority was exer-cised with genuine love and for my good, I will tend to respect and trust authority. I will creatively participate with authority, and I 328 Review for Religious will feel comfortable being critical of this authority. These responses are based on a sense that persons in authority have benign motives and are both fallible and rational. In other words, were I to present information missing from a decision, that new information would be taken into account and I would not be pun-ished for making a suggestion. Authority exercised with love is neither physically nor verbally abusive, but consistently treats me with respect. On the other hand, if my experience has been one in which authority was not so exercised, fear will be my dominant emo-tional response. I will either conform to the wishes of authority to avoid notice or abuse or I will rebel against it. Neither rebel-lion nor conformity are particularly healthy responses because both are rooted in a feeling of alienation and powerlessness. Authority functions against me and I feel powerless to do much about it. If I rebel, I choose noncooperation. I do not help to change the situation; instead, I may create a separate peace by withdrawing or opposing. If I conform, I do so because I feel powerless. I do not tell the truth but tell them only what they want to hear to avoid conflict. Since I perceive authority to be unloving and irrational, rational discourse cannot achieve any-thing fruitful, so I do not even try. Of course, no one is a pure type, and all usually have had some experience of both forms of authority. But most of the time I inhabit one attitude more than the other. I either offer myself to the process of authority-mak-ing or I withdraw in fear from participation. If my early experience is primarily loving and rational, I will experience God's authority to be for my good; I will recognize and" act against situations of injustice; I will experience my own inner authority and act out of it in nondefensive ways; and I will be able to be critical. I can tell the truth in the face of ambiguous experiences of authority. I can afford to see that a given person in authority has room to grow in the way he or she exercises that authority. New Testament Concepts of Power The New Testament presents two concepts of power. It addresses the way authority exercises power through the behav-ior and teaching of Jesus, and it begins to redefine power as the activity of God in our midst. "Power in the kingdom of God will May-June 1994 329 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way be totally different from power as it is exercised in the kingdom of Satan (the world). The power of Satan is the power of domi-nation and oppression, the power of God is the power of service and freedom." 6 All the kingdoms and nations of this present world are governed by the power of domination and force. The struc-ture of the kingdom of God will be determined by the power of spontaneous loving service which people render to one another. In Mark, Jesus puts it this way: "You know that among the pagans their so-called rulers lord it over them, and their great men make their authority felt. This is not to happen among you. No; any-one who wants to become great among you must be your servant (diakonos), and anyone who wants to be first among you must be a slave (doulos) to all. For the son of man himself did not come to serve but to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mk 10:42-45, Mk 9:35). This teaching occurs in all three synoptics and is par-alleled by the footwashing pericope in John's gospel. "You call me teacher and lord, rightly so--if I your teacher and Lord have washed your feet--so also ought you to wash one another" (Jn 13:14). This is an example of the way power is to be exercised among the disciples--placing ourselves at the service of one another's freedom, calling forth from one another by our exam-ple "kingdom qualities," and releasing the power of the commu-nity in mission. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. As Albert Nolan says, "The power of this new soci-ety is not a power which has to be served, a power before which a person must bow down and cringe. It is the power which has an enormous influence in the lives of people by being of service to them." 7 Also relevant to this discussion is Jesus' attitude to the law, the power which enabled religious rulers to dominate and oppress. Jesus consistently attacked this abuse of the law. He rejected any interpretation which was used against people. The law was meant to serve genuine human needs and interests. Unfortunately, many fear the responsibility of freedom. We seek the security of a law which gives us prestige and allows us to dominate, or we let others make decisions for us, hiding behind rules, relying on the letter rather than on the spirit of the law. In so doing we enslave ourselves by our fear of freedom, and we deny freedom to others as well. Jesus does not abolish the law, but relativizes it so that we will take responsibility for the sys-tems we create and use them to serve the needs of humanity. The 330 Review for Religious exercise of power and authority in God's kingdom is to be func-tional. It should embody the arrangements that are necessary if we are to serve one another willingly and effectively. Every type of domination and servitude is to be abolished, including religious forms of these abuses. The New Testament also speaks about another kind of power--the power that comes from on high over Mary, the Holy Spirit, who also comes upon the community gathered in Jesus' name after the resurrec-tion. Jesus' ministry is characterized by a release of God's power as he expels demons and heals those who believe. The woman with the issue of blood touches Jesus, and power goes out from him. In Luke, all try to touch Jesus in order to be healed because power emanates from him. When Jesus sends out the disciples to preach, he confers power on them, not to rule but to heal and to cast out demons. Jesus releases in our midst freedom from all that binds us. He heals and forgives sin and invites us to share in this power for good which is the Spirit's action in us. We, as apostolic women, are empowered by that same Spirit. We are called to develop ways of making decisions, organizing our lives, and harmonizing our gifts so that this holy power for mission is released in each of us and in the group as a whole. The disciples had trouble understanding this; they kept mixing up these two kinds of power, wanting to rule and lord it over others rather than releasing the God life to its own ends. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. Women and Power As women we can often remain confused about these texts and themes. We have been trained in our tradition to be power-less-- to be the servants. Kathleen Fischer puts it this way: "Rhetoric about servanthood has often been used against women, trapping us in subservient roles. As suffering servant Jesus exer-cises power in the service of rglationships,.affirming the dignity and worth of each individual. He empowered others, unlocking their deepest desires and enabling them to use their best gifts."s Women's role in the church has been designated as the subordi-nate one (servants) while others have assumed the positions of May-June 1994 331 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. authority, taking charge, lording it over, and engaging in ritual footwashings while not holding power lightly. As a result, women find themselves oppressed by religious authority and in a posi-tion of permanent subordination. Since power has been a bad word among Christian women, we perceive it as a negative and dangerous reality. Because it is something none of us is to have or exercise, we are therefore often mysti-fied by the use of power in the church and in religious congregations. We do not want anything to do with power, and we may be afraid to exercise it. If we want power, we must be bad. Exercising power in our own interest can leave us feeling selfish, self-destruc-five, or threatened in our relationships. This ambivalence about power and our social conditioning in patriarchal sys-tems create a situation in which we often exercise our power indirectly or unconsciously. Or we may become con-fused and anxious when conflict or struggle comes out into the open. If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. So as not to oppress anyone else as we have been oppressed, we need to understand power differently. We need to see power as a strength and understand how to participate in the healthy use of power. Jean Baker Miller redefines power simply as the "capacity to implement.''9 Expressing power does not need to be coercive or oppressive. Women, however, do not exercise power any better than men unless we become conscious and critical of how and when we express power. The Whiteheads on Power In the American church many men and women, clergy and laity, struggle to reflect critically on their experience of power in ecclesial contexts and to change how that power is expressed. Recent writings by Evelyn and James Whitehead have supported this struggle by exploring gospel understandings of power in the 332 Review for Religious light of the contemporary social sciences. In their work with hun-dreds of teams and in workshops across the country, they found that the single greatest obstacle to collaboration is a mystifica-tion about power along with the inability of many people in authority to share power. The Whiteheads define power and authority this way:l° Authority is the right to command or exercise power in relationship to the goals and values of the group. It is vested in persons (elected leaders) or in offices (specific roles/func-tions). Who or how the "vesting" occurs may be formal (appointment, election, consensus) or informal. But the social group recognizes the function of authority and the process of transferring it from one person to another. Power is the achievement or control of effects. Often it is the ability to produce a change. It may or may not coincide with authority. The Whiteheads continue: It is always present in interpersonal relationships. It is every way of exercising influence over another. One person is always subject to the power of another and no one is com-pletely without power. Power refers to the interactions among us. Finally, they say "power is best. perceived as those interac-tions that both create and threaten human community." According to the FORUS study, it is this definition of power as a resource to be shared that emerges as the dominant view of power among visionary people in religious life. The question remains: How operative is this understanding of power in religious life? In The Promise of Partnership, the Whiteheads consider that one of the primary tasks of religious leadership is to foster the transformation of our experience of power. If religious leaders genuinely exercise power in a manner consonant with the New Testament's understanding, they will use their power to welcome the power of others. They will use their role as leaders to enable those they lead to experience their shared strength in the group. As we mature in personal strength, we experience different modes of power. Early experiences and cultural influences can delay or impede our being comfortable with more mature expres-sions of power. Relying 0n David McClelland's work, the Whiteheads describe four basic orientations toward personal power--receiving power, achieving autonomy, expressing power, and sharing power. ~ May-j~une 1994 333 Ruling * Leadership a New Way Faces of Power Childhood is our basic experience of feeling strong because we are cared for and supported in our growing by our parents. When we are nurtured well, we learn to feel safe in the presence of oth-ers' power. We are empowered by this protection. Feeling empow-ered by others in this way continues into adulthood when we are strengthened by friendship, teamwork, or collaboration. I can feel comfortable receiving care and competence from others, and ][ do not have to rely entirely or only on myself. If I grew up in an unsafe environment, I learned not to trust or I remember depen-dence as demeaning and shameful. Adult experiences can also dis-appoint us and cause us to withdraw, but they are often overcome when we fall in love again or open ourselves again to a new rela-tionship. Autonomy is the strength we have on our own. In achieving autonomy we celebrate our self-reliance and self-sufficiency. Acting on nay own behalf expands my sense of power. Having developed some skills and competencies, I become an agent in my own life. Collaboration depends on my having some basic confidence in my own resources. If I lack autonomy, I will under-mine any partnership through my dependency. However, if I do not learn how to move beyond self-sufficiency, collaboration and openness to outside influence will feel like weakness, for it will imply that my own resources are deficient. Women often have difficulty in achieving autonomy unless the culture in which they function values their self-sufficiency and personal agency. Some religious communities have impeded this development in their members while others have fostered it but have not yet been able to direct this self-reliant energy back into communal projects. Expressing power turns us outward, as we begin to influence others and have an impact on our world. At this stage we feel strong when we influence the world beyond ourselves. A new sense of power stirs when we express our ideas, make demands of others, assume responsibility, take charge, and when others respond favorably. McClelland found that this orientation was prominent among management, supervisors, lawyers, and people in the helping professions. Success in all these fields depends on being able to influence the attitudes and behaviors of others. Personal assertion and social influence are the two particular resources of this power. However, these resources can be dis-played differently. Some express power exclusively in a combative 334 Review for Religious stance of competition with a need to dominate. A leader who feels strong only in this way easily becomes authoritarian. This kind of leader may function effectively in a military unit, but not as well in a helping role or in organizational leadership. !n these roles it is more appropriate to feel power-ful when motivating others, offering assistance, coordinating resources, and helping a group move toward its goals. The shadow side of this abil-ity to influence is dominance and control. Maturity lures us toward still another face of power--feeling strong in sharing power. People at this stage feel themselves to be per-sonally strong and also involved with something larger than themselves. Something beyond self-interest--the will of God, or commitment to a vision--prompts their action. They feel both powerful and empowered, strong both in autonomy and in col-laboration. These people welcome interdependence, the ability to enjoy mutual influence and mutual empowerment. When we work together the power we share increases and enhances my strength. The outcome that emerges from this interplay of interdepen-dence is less mine, yet I feel stronger because something better has resulted. Genuine interdependence is possible only if a significant num-ber of the members of religious communities mature to this fourth level of power. The hierarchical church, in its current exercise of power, shares power minimally. One group is authorized to express power and another group, namely the laity, receives it. If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. Much of the governance journey in religious life for women has been toward this mode of sharing power. The old way of lead-ership is not capable of fostering the full religious'maturity of its members. A single charismatic leader can function in level three If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. May-June 1994 335 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way of this schema, but that requires the entire group to submit to that individual charism. I believe the gifts of grace and discern-ment are distributed both more broadly and more abundantly than that. If we truly believe that our charisms live in all of us, that God's spirit releases an outpouring of energy and power, then sharing power is the only style of religious leadership that has the flexibility and openness to engage in the discernment of these movements. Healing the Wounds of Authority The FORUS study critiques dysfunctional religious leader-ship in many religious communities. I understand that much of this dysfunction is a manifestation of incomplete adult ddvelop-ment. For authentic interdependence and collaboration to be pos-sible, those in leadership must be committed to continuing their own development and to fostering the development of their mem-bers. Healing the wounds of authority is often an integral part of the process.12 The Whiteheads describe a continuum of growth in our per-spective about authority. It moves from the perception that power and authority are completely external to ourselves to the percep-tion that we confer authority in partnership with others for com-mon goals. Women in religious life stand all along the continuum. The way authority used to be exercised was coercive. A large part of our individual and corporate journey through renewal has involved deconstructing coercive authority and either avoiding the question of authority altogether (hence not a few resistant women in our midst) or constructing an entirely new way of exer-cising it. Briefly, the Whiteheads portray the function of authority as expanding life, making power more abundant, and calling others to collaborative partnership. However, many of us find ourselves unable to respond to this adult invitation to share power. We per-sist in viewing authority as external to ourselves, with those in authority holding on to power as a permanent and privileged pos-session to be used as they see fit. This kind of authority makes us feel like either children or victims, vulnerable and liable to be hurt when we interact with authority. We project onto our lead-ers impossible expectations, [equiring them to be all things to all people. We treat them as different from us, more knowledgeable, 336 Review for Religious more wise, more talented. Such projection masks our irresponsi-bility and delays our process of maturing. A more mature approach to authority views leaders very much as we view ourselves. We hope they are competent, but we under-stand that they have no special access to wisdom. They, too, are limited, fallible, susceptible to bias and error. No longer something leaders do to us, authority becomes relativized and results in a sense of partnership. Rather than benefi-ciaries, victims, or observers, we become participants with leaders in shaping the best decisions. How do we heal the wounds of authority? Transformation begins, according to the Whiteheads, whenever a crisis causes us to examine behavior that no longer works, whether it he avoidirig authority, fighting it, or trying to win its approval. The process moves through the successive stages of withdrawal, disbelief, self-scrutiny, and authority-making. In withdrawal I recognize that I have put authority outside myself and retreat to an inner place. My external behavior may not change much, hut basically I ignore authority and its claims on me. In the stage of disbelief, I realize that I am more than what authority thinks of me. My sense of self and self-worth no longer depends on external authority. This stage may begin as rebel-lion--" Who says this is the way things are?" I question how things are and think about how things could or should be. I recognize that how things are is often merely the way those in power have decided they should be, sometimes benefiting the leaders more than anyone else. The risk of disbelief is that it can harden into skepticism that rejects all exercise of authority. I can be preoc-cupied with exposing the faults and failings of those in authority when I do not yet see myself as an equal. The stage of self-scrutiny allows me to recognize how I have participated in maintaining coercive authority all along, whether by elevating those in authority, attacking them, or blaming them for things for which I am also responsible. I become able to ask We project onto our leaders impossible expectations, requiring them to be all things to all people. Such projection masks our irresponsibility and delays our process of maturing. May-June 1994 337 Ruling ¯ Leadership a New Way the critical question: When is the influence of external authority-- a leader, a value system, a set of laws--legitimate in my life? A cer-tain level of intellectual and emotional maturity is required in order to respond freely, neither compulsed to negate these demands nor anxious to satisfy a hidden motive. I understand that, as I have contributed to my own oppression, I can participate in my own empowerment. When I can exercise my personal power in response to author-ity both by taking initiative and obeying, I have reached the stage of authority-making. At this stage, I am able to face conflict if nec-essary in the pursuit of a common purpose. This is possible only after I have recognized my prior negative contribution through fear, apathy, or magical thinking. The Whiteheads caution that one cannot wait until this stage is completed; even conscious of wounds and the continuing process of healing, I need to be engaged as a partner in authority.13 The unhealed wounds of authority are frequently the unac-knowledged agenda when leaders and members experience tension between individualism and the common good. Authority will be interpreted and experienced differently depending on the level of healing and the vision of exercising power espoused by each religious. If leaders can encourage communities to begin to heal the wounds of authority and if the majority of the members can endure the pain of growth in this developmental process to become capable of sharing power, our communities will be very different. Both leaders and members will be partners in codis-cernment, as both respond to the ever changing call to be shaped by and to express in life and ministry their shared charism and discipleship of Jesus. According to the FORUS study, outstanding women leaders were extremely active in securing the commitment of the group to appropriate actions or decisions. They used their positional and personal power to influence outcomes, but not at the cost of diminishing the sharing of power in the group. Further they tended "to encourage participation of those they lead, share power and information with them, and enhance their self-worth and energize them." ~4This style of leadership has been pioneered largely by women in a variety of settings as well as in religious life. Clearly, one of the gifts religious women can offer the church is the healing of our wounds of authority and our growth in sharing power, thereby releasing the power of God's spirit in our midst. 338 Review for Religious Notes ~ David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Research Executive Summary: Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22 (24 September 1992): 271. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid, p. 268. 4 Ibid, p. 271. 5 Katarina Schuth, "The Intellectual Life as a Value for Women Religious in the United States," Appendix: Survey, Brookland Commission paper, 16-18 October 1992, 10. 6 Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1976 and 1992), p. 84. v Ibid, p. 85. 8 Kathleen Fischer, VVomen at the Well: Feminist Perspectives on Spi~qtual Direction (Mahwah: Paulist, 1988), p. 140. 9 See Jean Baker Miller, Toward a New P~chology of FVomen (Boston: Beacon, 1976 and 1986), for a full discussion of the topic women and power. ~0 Evelyn and James. Whitehead, Emerging Laity: Retm~zing Leadership to the Community of Faith (New York: Image, 1988), p. 36. ~ The description which follows is dependent on Evelyn and James Whitehead, The Promise of Partnership: Leadership and Minist~7 in an Adult Church (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), pp. 115-127. ~2 See "Healing the Wounds of Authority," in Promise, pp. 27-36, for the full description of this schema. ~3 It should be apparent that only in these latter two stages of self-scrutiny and authority-making is discernment possible. 14 David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Religious Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 413. May-June 1994 339 JANE FERDON AND GEORGE MURPHY Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark life flux ¯ he renewal of religious life over the past thirty years has generated a series of expected and unexpected results. One of the most puzzling is the persistence of darkness. Despite massive and heroic efforts to update and achieve renewal, many groups and individuals are continually deal-ing with a darkness that nothing seems to dispel. As men and women religious and bishops prepare for the Roman Synod on religious life, people will inevitably both review the transitional years since Vatican II and envision the future. They will gather and analyze data from many different perspectives. We would like to offer the perspective of spiritual direction and our experience of working as spiritual directors with men and women reli-gious.~ Theological, sociological, psychological, economic, political, and cultural perspectives all help in the under-standing of religious life. From spiritual direction we can see how people's experience of God has renewed them and how their experience of darkness, the apparent or real absence of God, has purified or stultified them. People's experiences of God in moments of light, energy, joy, and enthusiasm have received refined attention Jane Ferdon oP and George Murphy SJ are adjunct faculty at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where they have been directing a practicum in spiritual direction. Their address is Jesuit School of Theology; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709-1193. 340 Review for Religious and have been deservedly relished. There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with oth-ers how God is present among us. People are taking apostolic risks and are praying regularly and contemplatively. Many are concerned with the poor and with unjust structures. People strive for integrity, some even risking their lives to protest war and nuclear arms. Others give their lives as martyrs, witnesses of God's concern for God's peo-ple. Some are willing boldly to confront evil both within the church and outside it. There are many reasons to hope. It is precisely in this context that we need to interpret dark-ness, both individually and col-lectively, to ponder its impact and to move toward light. The subject of darkness is not attrac-tive. By its very nature it can evoke self-criticism and blame. We intend neither. Our purpose is to portray people's experience and to raise some serious questions for reflection and considera-tion. We are convinced that only by scrutinizing the darkness can we be more free to enjoy the new life and energy in our midst. Then, with courage, we can pass on what we have learned to the next generation of women and men religious. Admittedly, some-times we have neither the strength nor the disposition to deal with darkness. As painful as it might be, we believe that God is calling women and men religious and the church not only to look at the light but also to discern the darkness. Experiences of darkness are only beginning to be probed and 'mined.z Our thesis is that sometimes darkness is holy; God is present and waiting in the darkness. This is the dark night of There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with others how God is present among us. May-.~ne 1994 341 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark senses or of spirit that Teresa and John of the Cross perceptively explored for their times and now needs contemporary examina-tion. 3 Another darkness, however, is unholy because God is not present in the abyss. This darkness is destructive rather than cre-ative. It is the realm of the prince of darkness, a darkness that needs to be named and avoided or robbed of its hold. In prayer as in life many women and men religious have expe-rienced both forms of darkness; but how do we discern the dif-ference? Are some of the more stubborn blocks to the renewal of religious life examples of the power of the unholy dark? Is the future of religious life to be found only in the holy dark? Some women and men religious feel trapped in a dark place, clawing interiorly to be set free, wanting to find a way out of dreary con-trolled maintenance, making work their escape and ministry a substitute for a vital relationship with God. For more than a few, religious life as it is does not satisfy; church life as it is does not satisfy. The experience is one of darkness. One woman religious who had served many years in admin-istration described her experience of darkness this way: There is no doubt that religious life is in transition. Many men and women religious feel something is missing in reli-gious life. We sometimes sense it in liturgies, at meetings, in group assemblies, in discussions. We go away hungry. Something deep within is left unsatisfied. So we try harder, photocopy more papers, quote more authors, add more meetings, review statistics, hire consultants. We multiply information, yet increasingly remain dissatisfied and weary. Deep within we sense something is missing still. We assume it is the times, the culture, the lack of leadership or the apa-thy of membership. Vocations continue to decline. The membership's vitality is diminishing. It is a telling situa-tion. How do we read its message? A male religious who is a college psychologist described his experience: There are signs that religious life is dying or at least seri-ously sick. There are too many unhappy persons, unhappy communities, and unhappy work situations in religious life today. One needn't look far to find depression, codepen-dence, anesthetized feelings, controlled conversations. While one sees many people who work hard, often to the point of burnout, their work has a joylessness about it. No matter how much one does, it seems never to be enough. One sees too many men and women religious who do not 342 Review for Religious have much joy in living. Some clothe their depression with false piety and pious clichds. Others become TV addicts. Some have become drug addicts. They misuse prescriptive medication or alcohol. Many practice massive denial. They think everything is fine or would be if we prayed more or were more cheerful. Few people are entering; some are still leaving or staying because it is too late in life to begin again. Those who stay in religious life are aging. Even our efforts at renewal seem short lived, using bandages and patent medicine. A devil chased out, the house left empty, new devils take up housekeeping.4 If we liken this period of transition in religious life to wan-dering in the wilderness (a "desert experience"), some dynamics become clear. It can be an exodus from what oppresses to what frees, or it can be an endless exile in the wilderness. We must dis-tinguish whether there is movement forward or paralysis. Are we simply wandering in circles? Many in religious life feel an oppres-sion of spirit. What used to work no longer fits the present real-ity. It is a time of letting go, yet there is a fear of losing precious valuables,s We know we cannot go back, yet we have grave diffi-culty moving forward. Perhaps our renewal has not reached the depth of genuine conversion. We may be stuck in a desert place, tired of the journey, helpless in finding direction, and discour-aged about our future. In this desert experience of transition, it becomes critical to notice the difference between honest disenchantment and crip-pling disillusionment. Many forget that disenchantment can be the beginning of a positive experience. "The point is that disen-chantment, whether it is a minor disappointment or major shock, is the signal that things are moving into transition. At such times we need to consider whether the old view or belief may not have been an enchantment cast on us in the past to keep us from see-ing deeper into ourselves and others than we were ready to. For the whole idea of disenchantment is that reality has many layers, each appropriate to a phase of intellectual and spiritual develop-ment. The disenchantment experience is the signal that the time has come to look below the surface of what has been thought to be so.''6 Are we unknowingly prolonging our transition because we fear being disloyal to the past by recognizing some of its limits? Would we rather prolong the exile than move to a deeper level of honesty or confront the darkness? "The disenchanted person recognizes the old view as suffi- May-June 1994 343 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark cient in its time, but insufficient now.''7 The disillusioned person simply rejects the earlier view. While the disenchanted person moves on, the disillusioned person stops and goes through the same play or pattern again. Many in religious life remain disillu-sioned rather than disenchanted. There is no real movement from ending to beginnings. So patterns are repeated. One changes one's ministry, school, or parish and never goe~ through the interior process of ending to begin. There are no good-byes. There is no letting go. A priest takes the "geographical cure" and moves to another university or parish only to be hounded by the same issues and behavior, but with a different cast of characters. A sister switches ministry. She leaves grade school teaching, tries pastoral care, goes away for a renewal program, begins a theology degree, and lands in a parish facing the same internal dynamics only in a different set of circumstances. Disillusionment grows. A sense of failure increases. There are many reasons to be afraid. Our fears can be para-lyzing. The crucial discernment is whether God is inviting us into the dark. If so, what are the indications of God's invitation? The danger is that we just presume either that darkness is a reality or that God is welcoming us into the darkness when neither is true. When God asks us to look at the dark, God will be present with us. God's presence may not make the dark less dark, but God's presence assures us that we are not alone. In the unholy dark, God is not present. We often get preoccupied with negative voices. An accusatory voice convinces us that we must save our-selves, and we know that is hopeless. Evil asserts its fascination. We step into the darkness alone and meet chaos. Frequently this same dynamic asserts itself in prayer. For instance, one fears the God who will ask too much, the God who demands great suffering from those who are faithful. Thus, the focus of one's reflections becomes the possible forms of suffer-ing rather than dialogue with God. The accompanying affect is naturally negative: fear, anxiety, worry, stress. Often there is guilt and a loss of self-esteem: "Why is it I cannot do what God wants?" Notice what is really happening: the person is preoccupied with the anticipated suffering, not with God. Has God asked for suf-fering, or is it what we assume God wants? Moreover, does one then avoid the God who asks too much by evading prayer? Instead there may be a dangerous substitute for prayer: reflection on self and what one is unable to do rather than asking God what God Review for Religious wants or telling God of one's fears and worries. Prayer becomes unattractive, Unfortunately, so does God. In place of evoking the presence of God and feeling the security of an abiding presence, prayer becomes a reflection on one's fears. What spirit led us to this quagmire? As fears multiply and resentments fester, even the desire for prayer fades. Sadly, this desolation can go on for years as one comes to resent the God whom we think of as asking the impossible. Perhaps the question we must ask ourselves both individually and collectively is: Have we lost some-thing of a sacred focus? What if it is a divine focus that is missing? Men and women religious frequently claim that rarely does our conversa-tion reach the level of the holy: the moments when a reverent silence fills us, the sense that God is near, not because of a timeless theological assumption, but because of a present shared experience. Is it this elo-quence of the holy that is missing? Is it this level of engagement we can-not seem to reach? The disciples and our spiritual ancestors bonded and dreamed; they boldly proclaimed God's word because they talked among themselves of their encounters with and memories of the holy. Do we? Are we fear-ful, anxious or embarrassed? What if there is no real experience of God? What if others ridicule what is deepest within? What if one has to admit it has been a long, long time since God and I really communicated, not just through rote prayer or disciplined meditation, but by genuine, engaging talk---listening, speaking, feeling, discerning--earthy God-talk. We assume that something is God's will. Rarely do we wres-tle long enough with God's word to know what God really wants. Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. The irony is that sometimes it is easier to acknowledge the depth of feeling than to endure the tiring mechanisms of avoidance. It is no Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. May-.l~une 1994 345 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark wonder we have lost a genuine spiritual fluency. Perhaps it is a clue to why we wander in circles rather than move forward. Thus we prolong the transition. Moreover, in our frustration we can make another or others the enemy rather than going more deeply into a conscious examination of our primary relationship, our indi-vidual relationship with God. How much time, attention, thought, affect, dialogue, and development does this relationship get in my day, week, month? Is it really primary? If it is not, what is primary and why? Did something get lost? Can it be found, renewed, enlivened? Who got distracted? To borrow again from the exodus experience: Have we lost sight of the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night (Ex 13:21- 22)? As a result, do we turn inward with murmuring, grumbling, and accusation (Ex 14:11-12)? Do we feel the disillusionment and strain? As many older men and women religious explain, "This is not the community I entered." We want to tui'n back, not in con-version but out of reluctance. Perhaps we cannot see what is ahead because our backward look prevents us. A woman therapist who sees many men and women religious observed: "Many religious are desperate: body work, crystals, cen-tering prayer, dance, Eastern philosophy, psychotherapy, twelve-step programs, dream work, even hypnosis and psychics have been tried as means to greater peace. The tragedy is that often the means becomes the primary focus. The divine gets lost in the search; searching becomes an end." We become the doers, for-getting that another is there with us, the one to wtiom we are committed by vows. Then we begin consciously or unconsciously to accomplish our own redemption. The Redeemer is forgotten, not deliberately, not consciously, not entirely, but somehow God becomes a distant figure or shadowy image, definitely out of focus, perhaps a memory. Yet, without this presence and this power, there can be no real vision. No wonder we sense something is missing. Someone might be missing, One without whom we can-not move forward. Individual experiences become the dynamic of the group. Often at community or congregational meetings and assemblies there is a clearly defined role for facilitators so that the group process is efficient and the stated objectives are met. Seldom is the same authority given to the spiritual dynamics operative in any group process where men and women religious gather. At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover- 346 Review for Religious up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. It can be a form of resistance too. Is there more fear or more freedom in the group? Are there indications of a holy or unholy spirit? Are these named and identified? Which gets more developed. Why have the spiritual dynamics operative in any religious group not been given equal emphasis? One does not wish to propose false piety: the "God will provide" rationale for avoidance. However, we must be wary of an administrative, eco-nomic, or psychological reduc-tionism. Who watches, identifies, articulates the movements or countermovements of the spirit in general chapters? Is it a con-cern? How much time, discus-sion, reflection, or debate is this crucial factor given? Do we assume that all we do is blessed and good, making discernment unnecessary? Are our governing bodies more task- or discern-ment- oriented? If the former, is this one reason we seem so often to repeat patterns? Do we scrutinize the spiritual implications as carefully as we do the financial ones? Do we endure less freedom by letting outside influences rather than spiritual profundities dictate most of our decisions? Do we leave room for the spirit to speak, or do we simply presume or even pretend that we are all speaking in the same tongue? Do we then consider those who disagree misfits? It is worth remembering that, whenever there is no dialogue, there is a breach of freedom. Of course, one can agree to dis-agree, provided one has been heard--but in many congregations many voices are silent. This silence speaks. Can we listen to the silence? Sometimes we are afraid. Besides, the tasks need to get done. Our social analysis must move on to the next phase. The danger is that the tasks do get done, but not always satisfactorily. The initial peace or relief that the job was accomplished does not bear fruit. Too frequently the very same issues come back to haunt us. That experience demands a refined discernment of spirits, not At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover-up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. May-June 1994 347 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark just reworded policies. If we were collectively to allow the deeper issues to emerge from a time of discernment, we might face very different topics in our chapters and assemblies and our spiritual governance. Do we tend to look at what we can control? Often the Spirit will introduce us to what is beyond our control. This can be cause for delight or cause for fear, which can of itself be a grace-filled revelation. In this desert experience of transition, we must check where have we built our altars: what are we worshiping? On the exodus journey there were two collections in the desert. In one God asks the people for gold to build a sanctuary that God might dwell in their midst (Ex 25:1-9). The other occurred because of a long delay. The Israelites became impa-tient with Moses, and so they contributed their valuables towards the making of a golden calf. Where are our valuables going? To discern a group's focus and leadership is not a luxury; it is a mat-ter of life and death. To choose life is to have God dwelling among us. This choice comes out of freedom. To choose death is to cre-ate our own god, to guarantee our own future. This choice comes out of impatience and disillusionment. The first heralds a sacred beginning; the second repeats a sinful ending not much different from the pyramid building that was supposedly abandoned, an apt example of disillusionment's repetition of patterns. God bids "a collection from the heart" (Ex 25:1). Where are our hearts calling us? Can we let go of old ways to begin anew? It is imperative to explore the darkness. If it is holy, then there is a presence in the darkness. We are in a safe place, and there is a reason we have been beckoned there. Perhaps a vision will emerge. If it is unholy dark, then we must flee the desola-tion. The dark mood that many men and women religious expe-rience can be a developing spirituality. It is time to go deeper; even if we must first address fear or reluctance. Nonetheless, there is an attraction or longing. Reluctance can be a form of darkness. Depression can sometimes be a side effect. Whether the darkness is a form of the dark night or a stubborn paralysis of spirit needs thoughtful attention as well as careful delineation. To explore the darkness is not an optional task; it is a spiritual mandate. However much good therapy has done for many men and women religious, it can still become a substitute for intimacy, for community, and even for God. It is a contemporary irony that authority is sometimes given to therapists that would never be given to religious superiors or confessors. If the darkness is pri- 348 Review for Religious marily psychological, then one must use therapeutic tools. But what if the darkness is primarily spiritual and the depression a side effect? Is this issue being sufficiently addressed? There is no doubt about the spiritual side effects of depression, but what about the possibility that the current mood among many women and men religious is a form of spiritual desolation or even a form of consolation that goes unrecognized because of the awful sense of empti-ness? The helps for relieving depression might be quite different from the remedy for desolation. Certainly one wants to pursue ther-apy if the darkness in prayer results from psychological blocks or bio-chemical factors. If this darkness is spiritual desolation, however, then an active spiritual response and practical spiritual directives are called for. If the darkness is an exodus leading to something more, then it is consoling. If it amounts to going around in circles, it is frustrating, purposeless, and diminishing. Moreover, fidelity to it is a sham. Discerning the darkness is not only an individual task, but also a collective one. Depression or darkness of spirit can lead to self-absorption or self-transcendence. To know the difference affects the individual, the religious group, and the church. Therefore, one must figure out the source of the dark mood, the imp behind the affect. To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. Darkness's fruits also deserve attention. Sometimes what is most obvious is overlooked. For instance, do we leave congrega-tional meetings or gatherings feeling empty, down, or frustrated? Do we feel marginalized or disengaged? Or is our experience joy-ful and revitalizing? Do we feel closer to God and so awed by the Spirit that our prayer is renewed and our ministry energized? Do most of the members feel the same? Again, do we pause and reflect about and then discuss which spirit seems to be dominating the group? If we are on holy ground, we leave one another's com-pany enriched. Or is something lacking? Despite contact with To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. May-June 1994 349 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark friends, and gratitude for companionship and laughter with them, is smnething of the sacred absent? It is essential to name that absence lest we bless what is not holy. Religious life as we have known it may be ending, but what about the beginning? If we have failed to negotiate our own indi-vidual transitions, how can we begin to face the group transition? Do we feel heavily burdened? What must we let go of? In-betweenness does not have to last forever. Prolonging the pain only adds to the interior paralysis or feeling of numbness that all-too-many women and men religious experience. Endings are not without sequels, but unless interior conversion takes place no beginnings occur, only *eactions to endings, whether denial, avoid-ance, defensiveness, escape, or repression. How do we begin again? Do we want to do so? We have to acknowledge our pain and voice it to God. We must feel its hold and then move beyond its control to where we can join in a gathering to celebrate survival and new life. We should not let our moaning and grumbling get misplaced and do harm. Transition is the time to ask hard questions, not only of ourselves but also of God. Have we voiced our pain in prayer? Is God with us? What is God communicating? Is God the focus of our gatherings? Are we more lost than we realized? Are we in relationship with God and also in dialogue? What is God saying to us? Is there something we must let go of?. Transition teaches us to get along with less. It removes distractions. Until we discern the darkness, it has a coercive and discour-aging hold. Like a small cancer it can grow undetected until it is too late to cure. Then surgery will not help. What "cancer" might underlie a perhaps subtle but still debilitating lethargy? Our great-est danger is to become numbly resigned to the someday inevitable death of religious life and then stabilize our fear, misplace our anger, distract our anxiety, and live in denial. Religious life is not meant to be endured; it exists for the sake of celebration now and eternally. Unless religious are free enough to name darkness, can-didly, low-grade despair and frenetic avoidance are bound to grow. People close their eyes and shut down to survive. Involvement, activity, ministry become the substitute for contemplation, not the result of contemplation nor food for it. What is really hap-pening is rarely talked about, and thus power is given to the secret. And those who dare to bring up the subject of darkness are quickly judged to be either critical of leadership or disloyal to member- 350 Review for Religious ship and then marginalized by other people's pattern of denial. When denial dictates, dialogue dies. The prince of darkness is empowered, and a divine focus is missed again. The issue is about neither leadership nor criticism; the issue is about neither membership nor loyalty. The issue is that the divine play of light is being overshadowed. In naming the darkness, we allow the light to play, the ligh~ that would illumine all we do, the light that would lighten our lives and allow us even in darkness to be con-fident because the gentle Presence of Mystery reveals that we are indeed on holy ground. Notes ~ We acknowledge our debt to William Barry and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York: Seabury, 1982), and to the people at the Center for Religious Developinent; they have had a major impact on our practice of spiritual direction. 2 For a succinct treatment of how darkness appears in directed retreats, see William J. Connolly sJ, "Experiences of Darkness in Directed Retreats," Review For Religious 33, no. 4 (July-August 1974): 609-615. Reprinted in Notes on the Spiritual Exercises, ed. David L. Fleming SJ, (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1981), pp. 108-114. 3 See Constance FitzGerald's "Impasse and Dark Night" in Living with Apocalypse, ed. Tilden Edwards (New York: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 94ff. Sandra Schneiders IHM also develops this theme in "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation," a paper given in Hartford, Connecticut, in 1992 and presented at a faculty colloquium at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley in 1993. 4 For the viewpoint of another psychologist on some unhealthy dynam-ics in religious communities, see Charles Shelton, "Reflections on the Mental Health of Jesuits," in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 23, no. 4 (September 1991), and a companion article by the same author, "Toward Healthy Jesuit Community," in Studies 24, no. 4 (September 1992). s It is worth while to review Gerald A. Arbuckle's thesis "that a major reason for the reluctance or hesitation of religious congregations, parishes, and dioceses to attempt renewal is their failure to mourn or ritually detach themselves from that which is lost or no longer apostolically relevant. Energy that should be directed toward creating the future is instead spent on efforts to restore or retain that which is lost or dying." See "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," in Human Development 12 (spring 1991): 22. 6 William Bridges, Transitions (Reading, Mass.: AddisonWesley, 1980), p. 101. 7 Ibid. May-June 1994 351 GERALD A. ARBUCKLE Merging Provinces "May they be so perfected in unity that the world will recognize that it was you who sent me." --John 17:23 Tdre is a trend within the church today for both institutions apostolates to merge: congregations and provinces of congregations, schools and hospitals. Various pragmatic and inspi-rational reasons are given, such as using personnel and finances more effectively for mission. Yet the actual merging commonly fails to meet expectations because people do not appreciate that mergers demand far more than a rearrangement of administra-tions. The contemporary struggle to unite East and West Germany aptly illustrates the point. When institutions seek to combine, they interact as cultures, and the resulting change is not a bloodless abstraction, but a high order of human drama. This introductory article views, from a cultural anthropologi-cal perspective, the merging of congregational provinces--though the theory applies to any organization. Case studies illustrate the theory, and then I suggest some guidelines for use in practice. First we examine what management studies have learned about the mergers of business corporations. Though religious commu-nities are not businesses, they are nonetheless human organiza-tions or cultures. They can learn from the experience of other human organizations that amalgamate,t Gerald A. Arbuckle SM continues to write, lecture, and conduct work-shops on the refounding of religious life. His address is Refounding and Pastoral Development Unit; 1 Mary Street; Hunters Hill; Sydney, N.S.W. 21 I0; Australia. 352 Review for Religious Lessons from the Marketplace The literature on business amalgamations is filled with dreary warnings about the negative effects of mergers. Management con-sultant Tom Peters concludes that "most studies suggest that, in general, [business] mergers do not pan out.''2 Rather than increased profitability, mergers have come to be associated with lowered morale, job dissatisfaction, unpro-ductive behavior, sabotage, petty theft, absenteeism, and increased labor-turnover, strike, and accident rates.3 Management consultant Stuart Slatter advises that the merger of firms "rarely brings increased effi-ciencies, unless accompanied by sound post-merger management. In fact, inefficiencies may actually increase as . divisive splits develop within the new top-management team as each manager retains loyalties to his of change. former business.''4 James O'Toole speaks of the contemporary stress on business amal-gamations as "merger-mania." He says that "the desire of large industrial bodies to merge is insatiable" and that the purpose and strategies for such actions are rarely thought through.5 Charles Handy warns that organizations contemplating merger are "to some extent stuck with their past., their traditions. These things take years if not decades to change.''6 Some authors wonder if the drive for merg-ers comes from authoritarian, patriarchal values dominant in Western society. These values, they claim, blind organizations to feminine values of creativity, of openness to other ways of coop-eration than formal mergers.7 Overall, most commentators conclude that mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions of change. In addition to sensitive leadership there must be, authors claim, a cultural compatibility (or what is termed "culture fit") between organizations that seek to merge. If there is insufficient culture fit, then cultural collisions will destroy efforts to merge organizations.8 Anthropologists agree with these conclusions. But they com-plain that, when management writers (with the exception of peo-ple like Edgar Schein) use the term culture, they fail to grasp the complexity of its meaning. They think culture is what people vis- Mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions May-3~ne 1994 353 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces ibly do,9 and they fail to consider what they feel about what they do. People may act in the same way, yet differ radically in their cultures, simply because they do not feel the same about what they do. Feelings (expressed in symbols and myths) are at the very heart of cultures, but are far more difficult to name and control than visible actions. A good many authors--for example, Gerard Egan--see culture as but one of many variables in organizations;1° Peter Senge does not refer to it at all.11 Culture is not one facet of life nor merely what people visi-bly do; rather, it is the complete set of feelings affecting, most often unconsciously, all of a specific behavior pattern of individ-uals and groups. Examples are an organization's interiorized system of authority, its modes of communication, its understanding of mis-sion and stratdgies?z Leaders ignore culture at their peril. People may change with relative ease what they visibly do, especially under external pressure; not so their feelings!13 Anthropology Applied Anyone concerned about mergers of institutional cultures must be awai'e of four fundamental insights of applied cultural anthropology. First, cultures have lives of their own, just as indi-vidual~ do. So we rightly say, for example, that cultures grieve or are depressed, are open or closed to creative ideas. Certainly, individuals influence the life of a culture, but the reverse is also true. Sdcond, any cultural change, even for the noblest of rea-sons, is stressful for the people involved. A culture provides peo-ple with a much needed sense of order or security; it is a defense against the anxiety that disorder or the fear of chaos evokes. When cultures interact this felt sense of security is threatened or under-mined; people feel uprooted, losE, disillusioned, angry, sad. Fears and prejudices about the culture with which they must now inter-act come to the surface. Third, people are likely to resist change for one of two rea-sons: the loss of the known and tried, or concern over the impli-cfitions of personal and group loss. Cultural interaction inevitably calls people to new ways of acting; the familiar must be left behind. Hence, any effort to merge cultures leads to varying degrees of overt or underground resistance. Reactions to cultural change in individuals can build up and then explode in ways that appear totally out of proportion to the provocation of the moment. 354 Review for Religious The resistance has merely been deferred and stockpiled; people finally reach a breaking point and express it dramatically. Fourth, the effort to merge cultures is a highly complex and risky pro-cess demanding the leadership of humanly and culturally sensitive and skilled change agents. Without such help people will so resist the change process that mergers falter or fail. The following axioms sum-marize the practical implica-tions of these four points for leaders of would-be mergers: 1. Appreciate the Complexity of Cultures I explain elsewhere in some depth the nature of culture.~4 For our purposes here, how-ever, culture is a pattern of shared values enshrined in a network of symbols, myths, and rituals and created or devel-oped by a particular group as it copes with life's challenges, instructing its members about what it considers the correct way to feel, think, and behave25 Rituals (that is, visible behavior) are the concrete expression of symbols and myths; symbols are experienced or felt meanings. A myth, a set of narrative symbols, is a story or tradition that claims to reveal to people, in an imaginative way, a fundamental truth about the world and themselves. This truth is considered author-itative by those who accept it. In short, myths inspiringly or feel-ingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. The most powerful myth in every culture is its creation myth, since it provides people with their primary source of identity as a distinct group.~6 Vv~hen the creation myth's existence is threat-ened-- for example, when major cOltural change is being planned or underway--people experience degrees of anxiety, anger, numb-ness, sadness. Various kinds of creation myths affect people in different times and ways. Three of the kinds can be termed the public, the operative, and the residual myths: Myths inspiringly or feelingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. May-ff-une 1994 355 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces ¯ The public myth is a set of stated ideals that people openly claim binds them together (like the values inherent in the charism of a congregation); in practice these ideals may have little if any cohesive force. ¯ The operative myth, however, is what actually at this point gives people their felt cohesive identity; the operative myth can and often does differ dramatically from the public myth. ¯ The residual myth normally has little or no daily impact on a group's life, but at times can become a powerful operative myth. For example, a former colonial nation will commonly have a resid-ual myth reminding the people of their former dependency on, or oppression by, a dominant European power. If a member of the former country inter'acts with someone from the latter nation, he or she may experience bitter memories of past colonial relation-ships. Then the painful residual myth becomes the operative myth, creating a climate of suspicion and antagonism. The case studies below illustrate the relevance of the above theoretical clarifications, because .proposed amalgamations of provinces inevitably demand changes in existing creation myths. 2. Encourage "Multicultural" Mergers Mergers are not synonymous with takeovers, that is, the total assimilation of other cultures by dominant cultures. True merg-ers recognize the need for dialogue between equals, so that the best of all cultures is preserved in the new emerging organiza-tional culture. 17 3. Arrange for Rituals of Grieving Change causes loss, and all loss evokes a wide range of human emotions: anger, sadness, guilt. These emotions must be ritually expressed and let go of; otherwise they remain repressed and obstruct change. Since individuals and cultures grieve over loss, these rituals must be personal- and culture-oriented.18 4. Seek Culturally Transformative Leadership Leaders must have skills for guiding people through the uncertainties, anxieties, and risks of cultural change.19 Without these rare people, cultural change of a positive kind is impossible. Case Studies: Merging Provinces Case Study 1: An Overefficient General Administration A general administration decided that three provinces should be amalgamated into one province. No problems were anticipated because 356 Review for Religious the administration believed that the reasons for the amalgamation were obvious to all and that the commitment to the congregational charism was greater than to provincial boundaries. The administration explained to the assembled provincials the major reason for the decision: a better use of human and financial resources for mission. On returning to their respective provinces, however, the provincials, who had been convinced by the arguments given them, were surprised to receive immediate neg-ative reactions from their provinces. The provincial administrations then procrastinated for so long that the general administration finally withdrew its decision, blaming the provincials for their lack of courageous leadership. Comment: The general adminstration's decision may have been theoretically correct, but the process of decision making took no account of the provinces as cultures. The decision to merge, taken without adequate consultation, evoked group and individual anx-iety and resistance because people felt that the operative myths of their provinces, giving them felt predictability, were jeopardized. The general administration wrongly assumed that the congrega-tional charism was simultaneously the public and operative myth. On the contrary, the majority of the religious felt closer bonds to their respective provinces than to the congregational charism. Case Study 2: From Euphoria to Provincial "Nationalisms" Three provincial administrations decided to explore the possibility of merging their provinces. An assembly, attended by as many members of all three provinces as possible, enthusiastically endorsed the idea in a vision statement that highlighted the common charism as the unifying force. Thereupon the provincial administrations quickly planned the formal merger. But to their surprise they later received so little cooper-ation from members of the provinces that they finally dropped the entire idea. Comment: An investigation showed that while the religious were together the public myth (that is the congregational charism-based myth) became the operative myth; they enjoyed being together socially as members of one congregation. However, they avoided the pain of looking closely at what they would have to let go of once the merger occurred; they felt the common con-gregational vision would carry them through. On return to their home provinces, the religious recognized what the merger would cost them, and the support for amalgamation rapidly declined; their respective provincial operative myths were revitalized. Quotations from the founder originally assented to in support of May-June 1994 357 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces the merger were now contradicted by other quotations from the same source. Case Study 3: Fearsof Colonialism Revived An administration of a province in the first world explored the pos-sibility of merging with a province in a third-world nation. It argued that the amalgamation would be beneficial to both provinces. The rich province could supply much-needed money to the third-world province; the latter, having a surplus of vocations, could "export" religious to the former. The proposal was immediately and angrily resisted by the poorer province--to the surprise and annoyance of its richer counterpart. Comment: This case study illustrates that a province's iden-tity or mythology can be influenced powerfully by forces beyond a congregation's internal history. The third-world nation had for over a century been a colony of the first-world country. Members of the third-world province sensed an arrogance in the adminis-trators of the rich province reminding them of the oppressive-ness of the colonial era. They did not want their newfound sense of national self-worth undermined by their receiving financial handouts from the richer province. They also feared that they would be administratively dominated after the merger by people from their former colonial power. In this incident the residual myth of the third-world nation became the operative myth of the province; the latter was prepared to remain extremely poor, but in control of its own destiny. Case Study 4: Fears of "Congregational Colonialism" Revived A superior general encouraged two provincial administrations to investigate the advisability of merging their provinces. The investiga-tion showed that for missionary efficiency the merger made perfect sense. However, the reactions to the proposal were so negative in one province, which had been founded several decades earlier by the other, that the plan was dropped. Comment: This case study is similar to the previous one in that the founding province is equivalently remembered as an arro-gant, congregational colonial power. That memory is the residual myth. The thought of a merger makes the residual myth the oper-ative force for identity and effectively prevents any further seri-ous discussion about merging the provinces. Case Study 5: Ethnic Differences Obstructing Amalgamation A general administration encouraged three provinces in a first-world nation to amalgamate, claiming that three separate administra-tions were a luxury the congregation could no longer afford. However, 358 Review for Religious the provincial administration disagreed, claiming that one adminis-tration could never adequately serve the large geographical area involved. Nonetheless, the merger did administratively take place, but the new administration was confronted with previously unforeseen personnel problems. For example, religious resisted requests to move to apostolates across the former provincial boundaries. Comment: The merger was failing, not for geographical rea-sons, but because the provinces were historically formed along ethnic-migrant lines: Polish, Italian, Irish. The cultural preju-dices of last century surfaced once the provinces were adminis-tratively united; that is, the residual myths became the operative myths for a significant number of religious descendants of the original migrants. If people had been involved in the develop-ment and follow-up of the merging, this critical issue would have emerged and been positively worked through. Case Study 6: Merger Plans Successful Three provincial administrations agreed with an outside consul-tant that from a mission perspective it. was essential for their provinces to amalgamate. They consulted all re.embers of their provinces, and most favored the merger. Once the merger decision was finally taken, the provincial administrations sought professional advice on how to pro-ceed. The merger was done in stages over a seven-year period, accord-ing to frequently evaluated strategies. As part of the merging process, all apostolates were assessed for their pastoral relevance and effectiveness in light of clearly stated criteria. Because all members were invited to be part of the merging and evaluating processes, negative reactions were minimal and the ownership of the changes was at a high level. Comment: In this case study the following actions guaranteed success: culturally s6nsitive leadership, aware that in-depth culture change is a slow process; professional assistance in clarifying the vision of the merger and in developing appropriate strategies; the maximum involvement of members of the provinces in all stages of the merging. Advice to Congregational Leaders The following advice is offered to congregational leaders in view of the above theory and the analysis of the case studies: 1. Clarify the Vision and the Strategies for Mergers. The primary aim of any merger of provinces must be to make the religious congregation better able to serve the needs of the May-.~une 1994 359 Arbuckle ¯ MergingProvinces kingdom of God. Thus, congregational leaders must ask ques-tions such as the following: Is the merger apostolically justified, or is it just a way to maintain existing apostolates without evalu-ating them for their apostolic relevance and effectiveness? Are there better ways, than through amalgamation, to achieve the desired effects of a merger? 2. Involve Members throughout the Process. Organizational amalgamations demand cultural change. Any cultural change, to be effective, is slow and risky, requiring as wide an involvement of members as is possible before, during, and after the formal merger. In order to own the new identity people must feel they are realistically contributing to its development. Congregational leaders, therefore, must ask themselves questions like: What structures will best encourage the maximum involve-ment of members? Are the most-skilled cultural-change agents being used to facilitate the process? 3. Foster Group and Personal Conversion-Grieving. Liminality is the cultural betwixt-and-between position which develops when a previous founding myth and its structural or political expressions have terminated, but a new creation myth has yet to be clarified and owned. It is a painfully dangerous stage of grieving because people feeling intense loss are sometimes tempted to retreat back to the old, comfortably secure ways of doing things. The journeying of the Israelites in the desert, with all its temptations to retreat to Egypt and to blame Moses for their miseries, is an archetypal experience of liminality. Moses, confronted by the Israelites' bickering, pettiness, and anger, rec-ognized that, for the people's grieving to be positive, they must have the space to name their anger and sadness in order to let these feelings go in faith and hope. Only then would the Israelites, freed from their attachments to the past, be open to receive the new creation stoW that Yahweh had for them.2° When provinces decide to merge, religious are invited to enter into the liminality of the desert journey. The old provincial creation mythologies must be let go of to allow the creation myth of a new province to emerge and be confidently owned. Congregational leaders, like Moses, must do two things: (1) encourage the religious to share the stories of their provinces with one another, together with their feelings of grief (anger, numbness) over the loss of the predictability that membership in their respective provinces had given them, and (2) call the religious 360 Review for Religious to help shape in hope the vision or founding myth of the new province. It is a call to an ongoing process of personal and cor-porate conversion. Conversion cannot be hurried, but without it .the merging of provinces will fail. 4. Utilize Cultural Change Agents and Consultants. Change agents assume the responsibility for managing the merging process. They are transformational leaders who under-stand objectively the tensions involved in the process, have acquired personal skills to cope constructively with personal and cultural change in their own lives, and are able to foster with empathy a positive approach in others to changes. In the merging of provinces, such people are needed at all levels: as congregational lead-ers, ritual-grief directors, creators of new and relevant provincial structures for mission, and so forth. Because culture change is so complex, it is advisable for con-gregational leaders to seek the advice of consultants at key points in the merging process. The con-sultant's task is to collaborate with those entrusted with the merger in developing "an understanding of the way things are, thinking about the way they might be, and then working with [them] to consider what, how, and whether to change.''2~ The consultant cannot be effective unless he or she has well-developed cross-cul-tural skills.22 The human person is a striver who yearns for progress and is theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. The human person is achievement oriented, a striver who yearns for progress and is therefore theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. Applied cultural anthropology highlights the fact that, though people may in theory accept change, in prac-tice they commonly opt for the familiar and secure status quo. May-~:une 1994 361 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces This has important consequences for congregations when provinces are encouraged to merge. In the face of declining numbers and the aging of religious, we must not see the mergers of provinces as the automatic panacea to our problems. We need to be: (a) as certain as possible that the merger will improve the congregation's apostolic effective-ness in accordance with its founding vision; (b) aware that merg-ers require, besides mere managerial action at the top, ongoing personal and cultural conversion, or else, like the Israelites of old, religiou~ will resist the changes and hanker after the security of former, apostolically irrelevant provincial structures; and (c) aware that in mergers one province does not take over other provinces, but all are equal partners in establishing a new province to serve the Lord better. Ultimately, without skilled leadership there can be no positive merging of provinces. Edgar Schein warns: "What the leader most needs is insight into the ways in which culture can aid or hinder the fulfillment of the organization's mission and the intervention skills to make desired changes happen . Leadership and ~ulture management are so central to understanding organizations and making them effective that we cannot afford to be complacent about either of them.''z3 Provinces, like all cultures, are unwise to attempt the process of amalgamation, if they lack the necessary leadership. Notes ~ See C. Handy, Understanding Voluntary Organizations (London: Penguin, 1988), pp. 2-23. 2 Thriving on Chaos (New York: Mfred A. Knopf, 1987), p. 7. See also the evaluation of European mergers in The Economist (London), 20 November 1993, pp. 16f. 3 See G. Meeks, Disappointing Marriage: A Study of the Gains from Mergers (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977); S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Psychological Impact of Merger and Acquisition on the Individual," Human Relations 46, no. 3 (1993): 327-329. 4 Corporate Recovery (London: Penguin, 1984), p. 245. s Vanguard Management (New York: Berkley, 1987), pp. 258, 250. 6 Handy, Understanding, p. 95. 7 See G. Morgan, Images of Organization (London: Sage, 1986), pp. 210-212. 362 Review for Religious s See S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Role of Culture Compatibility in Successful Organizational Marriage," Academy of Management Executive 7, no. 2 (1993): 57-70. 9 For example, see T. Deal and A. Kennedy, Corporate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life (Reading, Massachusetts: Addison- Wesley, 1982), p. 4. 10 See his Change Agent Skills in Helping and Human Service Setting (Monterey: Brooks/Cole, 1985), pp. 277-287. 11 See his Fifth Dimension: The Art and Practice of the Learning Organization (New York: Doubleday, 1990). 12 See E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), p. 314. ,3 See S.A. Sackman, Cultural Knowledge in Organizations: Exploring the Collective Mind (London: Sage, 1991), pp. 16-23; J. Hunt, "How People Get Overlooked in Takeovers," Personnel Management (July 1987): 24- 26, and "Managing the Successful Acquisition: A People Question," London Business School Journal (summer 1988): 215. ,4 See G. Arbuclde, Earthing the Gospek An Inculturation Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 26-78, 167-186. ,s I have modified the definition by E.H. Schein in his Organizational Culture, p. 9. ,6 See G. Arbuckle, "Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life," Review for Religious 46, no. 1 (January-February 1987): 14-43. 17 See A.E Buono and J. Bowditch, The Human Side of Mergers and Acquisitions, (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1989), pp. 134-163. ,8 See P. Marris, Loss and Change (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1974), passim; G. Arbuckle, Change, Grief and Renewal in the Church: A Spirituality for a New Era (Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1991), pp. 151-156, and "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," Human Development 12, no. 1 (1991): 22-27; D.M. Noer, "Leadership in an Age of Layoffs," Issues and Observations 13, no. 3 (1993): 1-5. 19 For a fuller explanation of the leadership needed, see G. Arbuckle, Refounding the Church: Dissent for Leadership, (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), pp. 98-127. 20 See G. Arbuckle, Change, pp. 151-156. 21 E. Miller, quoted by R. McLennan in Journal of Enterprise Management, no. 3 (1981), p. 251. 22 See Arbuckle, Refounding, pp. 213f, 217. 23 E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture, pp. 320, 327. May-d~une 1994 363 JUDITH ANN EBY One Voice from the Middle Place In the matter of human existence the grave and sensible advice of the King of Hearts--"Begin at the beginning" -- cannot be heeded. We have no choice but to begin where we are; and where we are is the middle. It is not given to us to stand on the far side of human time and then, with all delib-eration and grace, to enter . Our first awareness is that we are swimming. We wake in the water. Our beginnings are not wholly our own. Our endings will most likely be beyond our control. We are middle people.~ MmY reflection upon my own journey in religious life draws e to this quotation from John Shea. My entrance into religious life in 1976 was certainly a beginning. I was twenty-one, full of energy and enthusiasm as i entered this new world. Several years later, though, one event was to etch into the core of my being the awareness that I had really entered into a "middle place," a transitional moment in the life of religious communities. After final vows I attended a large assembly of my regional community where the question was asked, "Shall we plan for our future?" A resounding yes echoed immediately, logically, and enthusiastically in my being. Simultaneously an unusually intense session of debate, frustration, and dialogue began in the larger group. After what seemed to be an eternity, the group came to unanimous agreement to plan for the future and spontaneously sang the song of our foundress. Clearly, something significant Judith Ann Eby RSM is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Louis University. Her address is 4133 Hartford St.; St. Louis, Missouri 63116. 364 Review for Religious had taken place. I also understood for the first time that there was a dimension of the community's corporate journey of which I had no understanding. No matter how much I could intellectu-ally grasp their journey, I would never experientially be able to understand part of their lives. Although not the first of such events, it was certainly the clearest one to signal that, at some moment in time, the commu-nity had stepped into an obviously challenging world and world-view different from a former one. I now shared their new world with them. However, there seemed an almost invisible boundary which prevented me from understanding this former world that still played itself out in their collective consciousness. This invis-ible boundary seemed to be not only the actual experience of Vatican Council II, but the experience of pre-Vatican II religious life. Boundaries which mark the end of one period and the begin-ning of a new one in the life of any community or individual can be arbitrary and theoretical. While it is true that many such boundaries could be named, one moment or event often stands out as a clear crossing over from one world into another. For those within religious life at the time of the council and for those who entered near that time, Vatican II was a watershed experience. For better or for worse, life was never again the same. Joan Chittister comments on this reality: For most communities, updating has been the project and process of religious life for 25 years. Clothing has been con-temporized; schedules have been adjusted to compensate for the invention of the light bulb; internal structures have been brought into sync with the best in organizational plan-ning; individual development has been tested by the most recent and most credible of psychological theorems; theol-ogy programs have progressed far beyond the thinking of the medievalists or the Scholastics; community customs books have been amended to meet the nature of contem-porary life. Every dimension of religious life has been scru-tinized and updated. Most of religious life is definitely not in a time warp any more, at least not if relevance is mea-sured by life styles and learnings.2 The renewal after Vatican II was a crystallizing experience which united a number of different age groups around a new interpretation of religious life.3 This focal experience, it must be emphasized, embraces the formative influence and memory of May-~'une 1994 365 Eby ¯ One l~oice from tbe Middle Place pre-Vatican II religious life as interpreted in light of the council. For more than twenty-five years, changes from the council shook the church and religious communities to their roots. Ways of thinking, ways of being, and ways of acting, an entire collective consciousness of a group, were evaluated and reshaped. It is a subdued statement, indeed, to say that such a vast alteration from one world into another has profoundly affected and continues to affect those who were part of religious life at or near the time of the council. A good number of members still form opinions, beliefs, and attitudes in response to the crystallizing experience of Vatican II. Often this leaves them less likely to understand and sympathize with the ideas and beliefs of those who came well after the council and for whom Vatican II is not a watershed expe-rience. This is not necessarily due to a lack of goodwill, yet there is a tendency for one group to judge the worldview of later age groups as misguided or immature. All worldviews are necessarily limited and contain blind spots not easily recognized by those who hold those views. One question slowly emerges from pondering such a vast alteration and its effects on those in religious life: What of those who entered religious communities years after Vatican II? What has been the experience of such members? Much has been writ-ten about the experience of those who entered religious life before and during the time of the council. Other than some articles on formation, little has been written about the experience and from the perspective of those members who remember Vatican II vaguely or not at all. Some members know only the transitional time of religious communities. My hope is to raise a single voice from this middle place so that it may be heard and contemplated and allow the reader, for just a moment, to stand in the shoes of one who has known only the period of transition and to glimpse religious life from a van-tage point relatively rare within communities. The limitation of this essay is that it is a single voice only. Its strength is that it describes a particularized experience that can be known and touched on a human level. There are several assumptions upon which this essay is based. The first is that arbitrary categories of age and experience are not meant to be divisive or to cultivate a we-they attitude. The realization is deep: we are one, many though we are. The focus on newer or younger members and their perspective is not to deny 366 R~view for Religious or diminish the legitimate experience of others. Categories do not have to be mutually exclusive. What is always of uppermost importance is the vitality of the whole group, not of any age group or of any individual. The main issue is not whether we are grow-ing older, fewer, and poorer as a total community, but whether we are growing in wisdom and clar-ity, conversion and gratitude. The second assumption is that congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. Newer or younger members, while known individually and usually well-integrated into the larger community, are corpo-rately invisible and often unheard. They do not necessar-ily possess the same opinions, beliefs, or worldviews because great diversity often exists in terms of age and experience. Generalizations about any age group or category are simplistic at their best and crude at their worst. Many who have known Vatican II have moved to new and cre-ative developments very much in line with the renewal of the council while the thinking, beliefs, and actions of many newer or younger members is stale, noncreative, and full of fear. What is suggested here is that the experience and renewal of religious life resulting fro.m Vatican II continues to exert a formative influence upon a significant number of members while the richness and diversity of an exceptionally small population is being lost. Yet in this group are those who will be the leaders well into the 21st century. Middle places imply an ending and a beginning as well as a continuity with what went before. The human experience of end-ings and beginnings will often be bittersweet and both dark and light. Such has been my journey within my own community. It is these experiences of darkness and light, characteristic of tran-sitional moments, as well as the continuity that I want to articu-late. Congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. May-.t~une 1994 367 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place The church and world I knew while growing up was one of constant change. Everything was in flux: the saints, liturgy, sacra-ments, music, religion class, celebrations of church feasts, parish customs, and more. Change was experienced as normal, expected, and part of what it meant to be church. The religious life I entered was in a time of transition and experimentation. It was a world defined more often by the past than by any communal vision of the future. By the time I entered, the initial hope and enthusiasm surrounding renewal in the con-gregation was beginning to give way to fear, anger, agonizing searching, split factions of liberal and conservative groups, and a cancerous doubt. Mary Jo Le.ddy ~peaks of this middle place: At this point in the history of religious life, we are in an in-between moment, a "dark night," when the former mod-els of religious life are disintegrating and a future model has yet to become clear . As the memory and vitality of this conservative model begin to fade, some of the energy and legitimation of the liberal model begin to wane. Those who have a vivid memory of the traditional model of church and religious life seem more clear about the value and sig-nificance of the liberal model of religious life. But does the liberal model make sense in itself, that is, without refer-ence to the more traditi'onal model? There are those who, like myself, never knew the traditional model or never knew it for very long. We know the liberal model was launched from the base of traditional religious life, but we are begin-ning to wonder whether there is enough fuel in the liberal model itself to take it very far. To use another metaphor, we are beginning to feel that driving a liberal model of reli-gious !ife is like driving into the future through a rear-view mirror.4 My inner experience of enthusiasm and belief in religious life often came up against contradictory elements in the community. A few of the major examples focused on the expressions of doubt, grief, and anger in the community. Doubt can be a creative ele-ment. Indeed, it is often a necessary companion on any mature journey of faith. However, the doubt I encountered was often a cancerous doubt that could eat into the core of one's being. It was often disheartening to come up against, time and time again, such cancerous doubt within many members. Grief, usually unresolved grief, was also a major issue for many in the community. It was not unusual for me to become an object of unresolved grief and anger over some former aspect of 368 Review for Religious religious life that had not been sufficiently mourned by the other. As a newer member I stood as a symbol of all that had passed away, of all that was new and unsettling. Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statements. Such statements are expressed as a sigh of grief, of loss, of anxious uncertainty toward the future on the part of countless members. They are uttered in the midst of the hus-tle and bustle of life, at com-munity meetings, at times of election and moments of deci-sion, moments of reflection. The private and public acknowledgment of personal experience can be necessary for overall health. Yet it must be remembered that, for those who come at times of transition and do not share the same under-standing or knowledge of a community's history, verbal expressions can take on a particular significance. Language can shape our reality, tell us who we are and who we want to be, can uplift or demolish. A word, once it is spoken, can take on a life of its own; it can have the power to bring about that of which it speaks. At the middle places, when doubt reaches crisis proportions, language is of tremendous significance. Language, in this instance, reflected both lack of vision and lack of credible vision among the members. For older members can often communicate mixed signals to enthusiastic newer or younger members and cause a frequent cri-sis of meaning for them. It is odd but not unusual that entry into any group will always involve the unconscious or conscious assimilation of the larger group's attitudes about some things. Declining numbers was one crisis with which I had to deal. There is a basic difference between the exodus I experienced and the exodus others experienced in the 1960s. When I look ahead of me, I see lots of numbers. When I look around me, I see a handful, and we are the younger mem-bers. Around the time of final vows, I had to come to terms with Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statementsl May-j~une 1994 369 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place this unconscious assimilation of the crisis of numbers. Even today, though, at moments of weakness, fatigue, and real honesty, fear can reach into the core of my being, and I begin to wonder if I will be the last one through the door. Other times, often at commu-nity gatherings, I look around the room and wonder, figuratively speaking, what it will feel like (other things being equal, which they will not be) to bury all those older than I. Numbers can still overwhelm me. Middle places, by their very nature as endings and begin-nings, possess not only elements of darkness, but elements of light as well. As a newer or younger member, I received the best of all that the community had to offer--which was possible because of all that had gone before me. Many of the community's resources of time, finances, personnel, and talents were shared with me. The best of the community's continually growing self-awareness in terms of charism, history, and spirituality encircled me. It would merely be redundant to enumerate these many experiences, work-shops, and activities, since the majority of members are already familiar with them and have themselves participated in many of them. Perhaps I had greater freedom in personal choices and deci-sions than the majority of members had upon their entrance and for a good por.tion of their religious lives. I had greater flexibil-ity in forming relationships with people both outside community and inside. I experienced great exposure to different areas, groups, cultures, and ministries in my regional community. Barbara Fiand SNDdeN, in her book Living the Vision (New York: Crossroad, 1990), discusses the dark side of this high mobility and the exces-sive amount of stress related to it. As one who lived this experi-ence and whose number of moves around my regional community exceeds the example Barbara Fiand gives on page 148, I can well attest to what she says. She does not connect to this mobility the reality that newer or younger members would be more easily exposed to the cancerous doubt of which I spoke earlier. Today I and others who have stayed in religious life perceive our com-munity as larger than the local area in which we live. We are usu-ally well-integrated into the larger community in terms of knowledge, experience, and relationships. Throughout my years in religious life, it has not been uncom-mon for other members to say to me that they do not understand why "we" stay. I suspect these are comments of frustration, despair, 370 Rewiew for Religious lack of hope, or just plain bewilderment. They are comments indicative of middle places where lack of clarity, direction, and insight plague us all. Middle places, besides containing elements of darkness and light, are also by their very nature places of continuity. The con-tinuity is in the interiority. At the time I entered my community, differences were everywhere in terms of clothes, experiences, and theologies of the vows and reli-gious life, in spite of the renewal of Vatican II. The time of forma-tion for me involved excessive mobility and excessive exposure to all of this. After a long process of ¯ sorting through the externals, I found connection and identifica-tion through the interior. This exposure brought me to the real-ization that times were different, details were different, but the essence of the story was the same. Grace had invited me into the deeper myth of religious life. I can speak for no one but myself when I say that the deepest connection I was able to encounter and perceive in others was the experience of religious life as the deepening of one's greatest life and freedom in a journey with the Divine. I would suspect that all newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. I have found numerous women whose journey through pre- and post-Vatican II times has demanded much of them. The journey of these women reveals a depth of discipleship and commitment that mine could never rival. These women are part of my congregation and of other congre-gations; some have long been part of my journey and some are recently a part. Some were part of my journey for a time, a sig-nificant time. Some are with me in a new way beyond the bound-aries of space and time. Growth and transformation are profoundly connected to courageous, faith-filled women who show that "a journey with God is the only real source of satisfaction there is, All newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. May-June 1994 371 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place and a life of freedom, no matter how demanding, the only life worth living." s My view is necessarily limited. I merely offer a glimpse of a few of the experiences which could be characteristic of one who has known only this middle place in religious life. And this mid-dle place, too, is necessarily limited. Sandra Schneiders, in her critique of Mary Jo Leddy's book Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model, gives a good description of the general experi-ence of members who were a part of religious life before Vatican II and those who entered just as the council closed:6 Leddy vividly describes the symbolic malaise, lack of cor-porate vision, tenuous sense of belonging, identity confu-sion, and ministerial disarray that is obviously the experience of some religious, notably those in Leddy's own genera-tional cohort. These religious, now in their forties, entered religious life just as Vatican II closed. Religious congrega-tions, with the permission of the council, began a period of wide-ranging experimentation which left formation pro-grams suspended in mid-air between the collectivist identity that was being repudiated and a new identity that had not yet emerged. The corporate resources of religious life enjoyed by their older sisters were not transmitted to these new members, nor did they have the experiential realiza-tion of the dysfunctionality of much of the older system of religious life which fueled the renewal zeal of professed members. Thus, they could not rely on the deep roots of shared history, symbolic cohesion, and corporate identity as everything began to change simultaneously. Nor could they invest with passion in reforming a life they had never lived. Schneiders goes on to state that part of the significance of Leddy's book lies in the dialogue initiated "between those who lived religious life before the council and those whose experience of this life is almost totally postconciliar." This dialogue is impor-tant since a new generation has emerged today which interprets religious life very differently from those whose background embraces the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. My hope is that such a dialogue may be initiated. Newer or younger members are often isolated geographically from one another and lack opportunities to connect with one another. They can easily have a different perception and interpretation of reli-gious life because of differences in culture, generation, and a host of other experiences. Such connection could allow shared dis- 372 Review for Religious cussion of situations and concerns that are unique to newer or younger members. Energy could be channeled into discussion of a vision for the future. Congregations need to become aware of the importance of encouraging and providing financial assistance for structures that facilitate connection, reflection, and analysis among the very members who will carry into the 21st century the depth and dynamic of religious life. There is a tremendous significance in encourag-ing and supporting opportunities of this nature for newer or younger members whose dialogue among themselves can then lead to greater creativity when in dialogue with the larger congregation. This type of connection is not, in and of itself, exclusive. It does, how-ever, allow analysis and reflection which can never go on in larger com-munity gatherings simply because newer or younger members tend to be overwhelmed by the concerns and issues and by the sheer numbers of other members. Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. It is a simple fact that newer or younger members often constitutes a minute percentage of any congregation. The newer or younger members' analysis and reflection pre-cede the synthesis with the larger group that they hope ultimately to accomplish. To arrive at a communal vision that will animate and give energy for the future is a primary effort of many religious congregations at this time. Such a communal vision will come with a mixture of risk, wisdom, courage, insight, and pain. Many communities like my own have embraced a new creation, a new moment in their history. Most assuredly, we will be held account-able for choices made, choices not made, choices which will affect not just religious life but the church itself in years to come. Even so, we are invited, individually and corporately, to the awareness that "our own carefully laid plans and world orders should never be regarded as more reliable than the unsystematic reality of God's presence and grace."7 Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. May-June 1994 373 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place Notes ~John Shea, Stories of God (Chicago: Thomas More Press, 1978), p. 11. 2 Joan Chittister OSB, "Religious Life and the Need for Salt," Religious Life Review 30 (November/December 1991): 284. 3 See Patricia \¥ittberg SC "The Problem of Generations in Religious Life," Review for Religious 47, no. 6 (November-December 1988): 906, 907,908. 4 Mary Jo Leddy, "Beyond the Liberal Model," Way Supplement 65 (summer 1989): 47. s John A. Sanford, The Man Who 12Vrestled with God (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 100. 6 Sandra Schneiders, review of Mary Jo Leddy's Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model in Spirituality Today 42 (winter 1990): 368, 369. 7 Letter of Administrative Team of the Sisters of Mercy of the Union on 19 May 1991 to membership. Paradox Blosso~n-t~othered branches Of whitethorn trees Showing no wood And so full of the hum Of honey-heavy bees Seem to say to me That I should not Register such emptiness In the presence of such plenty Leaning fragrantly down to me In the final days of May. And I say: There is no should! I am a tree Made wood by my winter; Seasons that oppose Are two opposing goods Where envy may not enter To destroy the gift Of paradox. Bernadette McCarrick RSM 374 Review for Religious CATHERINE M. HARMER Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Many Catholics have grown up with the assumption that Catholic institutions, especially schools and hospi-tals, are a normal and permanent part of the landscape. Whether or not their children attend either parish or pri-vate Catholic schools, whether or not ~hey ever use the local Catholic hospital, it takes only the hint that these will be closed to cause a great stir. A second common assumption is that the religious congregations who founded and maintained these institutions will continue to do so in the future. Yet these institutions are more at risk now than ever before. Most of the Catholic institutions in this country had their origin in the last century. The parochial school sys-tem developed out of the concern of 19th-century bishops to maintain the faith for the immigrant populations from Catholic European countries. What has become the largest private health system in the country started very simply with religious sisters caring for the sick .and the poor in their homes. The hospitals built and run by their con-gregations were a response to a need to provide profes-sional healthcare in a Catholic setting. For the most part the organizers, builders, and managers of Catholic insti- Catherine M. Harmer MMS has worked as a psychologist in consultation with religious congregations and health systems in Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the United States. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. life in service May-June 1994 375 Harmer ¯ Religious, the Laity, and the Future tutions for educationl health, and social services were religious sisters, brothers, and priests. Even in the parochial school sys-tems, the bishops depended on the ~isters and brothers to provide the teachers and administrators, and to do so at little cost to parish or diocese. This work of founding and developing the major Catholic institutions, private, parochial, and diocesan, was an immense gift of religious to the church in the United States. Initially they served the immigrant Catholic population. As the years went on, the Catholic contribution was recognized beyond the boundaries of the church, especially in the field of healthcare. Given the social and political status of lay Catholics in the 19th and early 20th centuries, it is doubtful if they could have provided either the impetus or the skill to build these institutions, though their finan-cial contributions were the base for all of them. There is no ques-tion that establishing the institutions was a good thing for religious to do. The question today is whether they can or should continue t.o put as much into them now and in the future as they formerly did. Over the last twenty-five years, there has been a steady decline in the numbers of sisters and brothers, and a steady rise in their median age. During the same period, out of necessity rather than choice, the number of lay people in Catholic institutions has also risen. The cost of maintaining the institutions has increased, par-tially because of salary and benefit increases for the lay staff. In healthcare the potential decline of Catholic-sponsored hospitals was delayed, first by the Hill-Burton funds made available for building and then by the increased availability of third-party insur-ance, Medicare, and Medicaid. The decline of Catholic schools started earlier because there was little financial aid for them except occasional foundation grants. Efforts to acquire tuition credits or direct state support for Catholic schools continue to fail. In many dioceses the future of Catholic schools, even the parochial ones, depends on the ability of the parishes to maintain them independently of the diocese. Thus, only in the wealthier parishes can Catholic schools con-tinue to exist. Even these will last only if the priests and parish-ioners are willing to see fairly large proportions of their income go to the school and if parents are willing to pay increasingly higher tuition. There is the clear possibility that the Catholic school system will gradually disappear through attrition, with 376 Review for Religious only a few schools remaining for those who can afford private education. Creative efforts have been made by congregations. They have involved greater numbers of lay people in their institutions, main-taining sponsorship of the institutions and control over their mis-sion so as not to lose the congregation's charism and values. Particularly in healthcare there have been mergers of different types, from full takeover of one system by another to the collabo-ration of two or more systems forming a new system. Still, while the presence of religious in the institutions continues to decline, the number of lay women and men at high levels of management and in board positions grows. Lay members of the institutions find themselves attracted

Issue 34.5 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous ts edited by faculty members of the School of DIvlmty of St Louts University, the edttorlal ol~ces bemg located at 612 Humboldt Buddmg, 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. S!ngle copies: $1.75. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming .to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former ad~ciress. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Galicn, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1975 Volume 34 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. / ;" ~: :°~Vith these ,words Po o ~t only for Jesmts,~but-~f6r all~rehg~ous;~ )s wh6, .in ~varyingways, ~dentff, y:.o. 671 A Survey of the Thirty-second General Congregation John R. Sheets, S.J. Fr. Sheets, chairman of the theology department of Creighton University and director of its new Masters Degree in Christian Spirituality program, was an elected delegate of his province (Wisconsin) at the 32nd General Congregation. He resides at Creighton University; 2500 Califor-nia St.; Omaha, NB 68178. The Thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus began on December 2, 1974. It finished its work on March 7, 1975. The Holy See authorized the promulgation of its decrees on May 2, 1975. In this article I will attempt to set down in an intelligible way a description of what went on during those ninety-six days, especially for (hose who are not Jesuits but who are in-terested in the congregation. Having gone over once again both the official documents and the Acta of the congregation, and having tried to recapture.my own experience over those days, I feel keenly the limitations of what follows. In the first place, it is difficult to give a survey of the vast amount of material covered by the various commissions;-secondly, it is hard to detail my own ex-perience without writing an autobiography; thirdly, it would take someone with both a sense of historical detail and a journalistic flair to present the in-terplay that took place among the various identifiable groups within the con-gregation, and also what took place between the Vatican and the congregation. In spite of these reservations, I hope that the observations that follow might provide some insight into what happened, and at the same time provide a counterweight to impressions given to the public through the general press. For me personally the congregation was the peak experience of my life. I am still trying to sort out the reasons for this. There is the obvious fact of hav-ing been part of a decision-making body whose decrees could have momentous importance for the Societ), of Jesus and for the Church at a very critical mo- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 673 ment in history. Again there was the experience of being "companions in the Lord" with two hundred and thirty-six other Jesuits from all over the world, united in the same Ignatian vision, sharing a common purpose, praying and working together to formulate with the help of the Holy Spirit responses to what the Church and the world ask of the Society today. The "honeymoon experience" of the first days gave way, as the weeks went on, to the .experience of fatigue, the perplexities of the search for the proper wording, the experience of working on disparate problems at the same time, without any clear point of convergence. Added to these was the experience of the interaction between the Vatican and the congregation which brought with it great anguish. However, it was also perhaps the experience that changed the congregation from a group of planners relying much on our own wisdom into something approximating an instrument of the Holy Spirit. The whole experience of the congregation in many ways paralleled what a person goes through in making the Spiritual Exercises, where one is subject to the movement of different spirits. On the one hand, it was the occasion of the greatest consolation; on the other, 1 have never in my life experienced such heaviness of heart. There were moments when one could almost feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, particularly at the concelebrated liturgies where one was drawn into the mystery of the communio jesuitarum, both the living and the dead, ~hrough our sharing in the Eucharist. Certainly the con-celebrated Mass, celebrated on the opening day of the congregatiofi in the Gesu, a church hallowed by the memories of Ignatius, Xavier and the early history of the Society, with seven hundred Jesuits participating, was one such moving experience. But if there were consolations, there were also periods of desolation, the worst desolation I have ever experienced. These came from the pall of uncer-tainty cast over the congregation from the communications of the Holy Father through Cardinal Villot in reference to the way the congregation had proceeded on a particular point concerning the Fourth Vow in the Society. This was also the occasion for the Holy Father to remark with pain that he detected from the Acta of the congregation attitudes among the delegates which were at variance with the kind of disposition a Jesuit should have toward the Pope. To be frank, however, it was not so much the interventions of the Holy Father that depressed me. In fact, as events would show, he was under the im-pression that we had received a specific communication on the subject that he had given to one of the delegates to be transmitted to us. But because of a mis-understanding the delegate did not in fact communicate it, and the congrega-tion learned about it only after we had taken a step which seemed to con-travene directly the explicit instruction of the Holy Father. To me the tone of his and Cardinal Villot's letter, while severe, was comprehensible in the light of this misunderstanding on the communication of their earlier message. What was far more upsetting was the sudden change in the mental climate of the congregation. Somewhere Kierkegaard mentions that the sudden is the 1574 / Review for, Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 category of the demonic. In the course of only minutes, the demon of rumor, suspicion and recrimination was let loose. Suddenly it all fitted into a kind of master plot to discredit Fr. Arrupe, bring about his resignation, and bring to nothing the efforts of the congregation. No one knew who the enemies were, but some gave the impression that there was one hiding behind every column in the Vatican. Among the memories which will always be with me are the occasions when I used to walk in St. Peter's Square at night, when it was deserted, except for a police car and a few pa~sers-by. The majestic beauty of the facade of St. Peter's, bathed by the light of the moon, the beauty of the fountains flashing in the lights, the Vatican apartments with a light here and there, formed a setting of peace which seemed to overflow into me, particularly when events occurred which plunged the congregation into gloom. Looking back over those difficult periods I am certain that if it were not for the example and leadership of Fr. Arrupe we would have lost courage. He transmitted to us both by word and example a sense of the working of God's providence and the life-through-death process in which we were engaged. We were faced with the humbling and humiliating fact that we experts who were supposed to discern the signs of the times could not discern a sign that was much closer to us. In many ways the misunderstandings did not "have to be," when one looks at them from a human point of view. The reports from the press about con-frontation, maneuver and counter-maneuver were the product of journalistic imagination. The sad fact is that pain was caused by people who were trying their utmost to act with responsibility to the Holy Father and to the Society. But I have probably got ahead of myself. All I wanted to do in these in-troductory remarks was to point out that for me personally the experience of those three months led by the diverse paths of joy and anguish to a deeper ex-perience of the ways of God, that "If Yahweh does not build the house, in vain the masons toil." The Procedure Followed in the Business of the Congregation In preparation for this congregation there had been four years of highly organized participation on the level of the local communities and the provinces. The extent of this participation varied. In general, however, it had a beneficial result in creating the awareness that this congregation would grow out of the discernment that took place on the local level rather than work from the top down. Perhaps some might consider that this was a waste of time and money when we measure the results of those years of preparation, and the little impact that it had directly on the congregation. However, the minimal result of this preparation was that at least we did not come into the work of the congregation cold, but had some awareness of the problems that confront us, as there were seen by a large segment of the Society. For those who are not familiar with the structure of the Society of Jesus, a few words of explanation may be helpful. In the Society of Jesus the supreme A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 675 authority is vested in the General Congregation. It does not meet at regular in-tervals, but only on two occasions, either to elect a new superior general, or to face a particular state of affairs which can be handled only by the highest authority of the Society. Of the thirty-two congregations that have met in the four hundred and thirty-five years of the Society's history, all except seven have been called to elect a new superior general. When, therefore, in 1970 Fr. Arrupe decided to call a General Congregation to convene after appropriate preparation, he felt that the state of the Society needed to be reviewed. It was an opportune time, since ten years would have elapsed since Vatican II and our last congregation. Delegates to a General Congregation are basically of two kinds: the provincial superiors, who attend by right of office, who make up ap-proximately one-third of the membership of a congregation and the other two-thirds who are elected. The only delegates who were unable to attend the 32nd General Congregation were a few from behind the Iron Curtain. Their unoc-cupied desks remained an ever-present symbol to the assembly of the oppres-sion of the Church in various areas. In spite of these absences, there were two hundred thirty-six delegates present. In the Society of Jesus the agenda is made up after the congregation con-venes. It is based mainly on the postulates (requests) submitted either from in-dividual Jesuits or provinces. Contrary to what one might suspect, there is probably no more democratic legislative group than is to be found in the General Congregation. Any Jesuit can send in postulates either through his province or directly, as an individual to the General Congregation. All of these are considered on their merits independently of their source. Over one thousand postulates were submitted. After a preliminary analysis, it was seen that they could be organized according to ten categories. Ten commissions were set up roughly corresponding to these ten categories. Initially the commissions had a membership of about twenty-five each, com-posed of representatives from different parts of the Society. Later, for the sake of efficiency in composing the documents emerging from the commissions, the number was reduced to four or five. The amount of work that went into the final draft of the documents was enormous. The work of the commission would be submitted to the whole assembly, receive revisions (or even be re-jected), be returned to the commission; then again be submitted to the assembly, with a repetition of the same procedm:e, until the assembly was satisfied with it. The whole assembly convened in a large hall that had been especially renovated for the congregation. Electronic equipment was installed to provide simultaneous translation. Voting was done by means of a small switch at each desk. In the front of the hall in full view of all the delegates was a large elec-tronic board, with indicator lights arranged accordihg to the seating plan in the hail. This board registered the votes with a green light if affirmative or a red, if negative. At the top of the board was a place where the total affirmative and negative vote would register immediately after the vote was taken. All ~'~' ~ ~.~. 676;~ R~i~.w for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 voting~'~bhe exception," was public. The exception came at the request of the congregatiori ~hen it came to vote on the question of grades in the Society. Doubtless this pr0ce.dure was intended to provide the general with the oppor-tunity to vote in a way that would not compromise him in whatever future ac-tions he would have to take.as a result of the vote. The Main Themes Seventeen documents issued from the congregation, most of them originating from the ten commissions which had been established. Other documents came from special commissions appointed as the need arose. Though the documents differ in content, some common themes run throughout. Perhaps the main theme reflected in the documents is that of mission. Related to this is a reawakened awareness of the Society as a whole, of which the local communities are part. The Society, while it exists also for the sanc-tification of its members, takes its special meaning from its apostolic orienta-tion. This apostolic orientation is specified by its relationship to the Holy See, particularly through the Fourth Vow, and in its service to the Church through the promotion and defense of the faith. A characteristic of this apostolic orienta-tion is adaptability to the needs of particular times and places. In our day this involves an overriding concern to overcome the injustices which oppress so many millions of people. However, in all of its apostolic work, the goal and the means it uses are to be consistent with the tradition of the Society as set forth in its Formula of the Institute which sets forth its fundamental pontifical law. This ties in with the identity of the Society, a theme that is both the subject of one particular document and one that runs through all of the others as well. The Society is a priestly, apostolic body, bound to the Holy See in a special way for the defense and promotion of the faith. The sense of mission involves not only working with those who are op-pressed but it also involves becoming identified with them as far as this is possible. Our poverty, therefore, which has its juridical as well as evangelical aspects, takes on a particular experiential mode in so far as, by it, we can iden-tify with the poor. The decree that has to do with union of hearts and minds is also intimately related to the nature of the Society as an apostolic body. Ignatius clearly saw that the Society's apostolate depended first of all on the union of the members with God, and then derivatively on their union with one another. One theme which is conspicuous is that of repentence. The Society acknowledges that it has failed in recent years to live up to those characteristics which were suppose to distinguish it, such as obedience, loyalty to the Holy See, fidelity tO the principles of the religious life. The State of the Society One of the commissions set up early in the order of business was the one charged to examine the state of the Society. Its purpose was to form some A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 677 kind of an evaluation of the condition of the Jesuit order at this point in its history, assessing both its weaknesses and its strengths. To provide this com-mission with input, the delegates met in small groups over a period of several days. These small groups were of two kinds: what were called "assistancy groups" (for example, all of the American Jesuits belong to one "assistancy," the French to another, etc.), and "language groups," composed of people from different countries who had some facility in their own and other languages (German-English, French-English, Spanish-French, etc.) These groups dis-cussed the state of the Society in reference to key points such as formation of Jesuits, religious observance, the apostolate. These sessions broadened the practical knowledge each of us had of the Society and helped to create among us an awareness of community. They were also informative, first of all in bringing us to realize that many of the problems were common, with varying degrees of acuteness, while others were peculiar to a particular section of the Society. A criticism which many of us in the western world resonated with came from one of the German provincials in my group when he said that the image that the Society in Germany gives is that of B~rgerlichkeit, which in English connotes a comfortable, gentlemanly, middle-class existence. On the other hand, the situation of the Jesuits from behind the Iron Cur-tain, some of whom were also in my language group, has spared them some of the enervating effects of secularization. For one reason, their apostolate, where they are able to exercise it, is mostly pastoral work; secondly, their precarious existence serves to keep their faith at a high level of vitality. The delegates from the Third World countries brought other emphases. From the Spanish speaking countries there was a strong orientation toward social change, bringing with it problems of political involvement and the degree to which such involvement could subscribe to an ideology which often had Marxist overtones. In other regions, such as Africa, Indonesia and the Far East, one of the main problems is "inculturation," embodying the faith and the spirit of the Society in forms peculiar to their own cultures. As part of this evaluation on the state of the Society, Fr. General himself gave a picture of the way he sees the Society at the present, as a body which is very much alive, but with certain illnesses. He also gave a detailed description of his own relationship with the Holy See and the other officials in the Vatican, providing afterwards an opportunity for the delegates to question or discuss any of the points he had brought up. The document on the state of the Society which came out as a result of all this exchange is not one of the papers published to the Society. It was intended only for the delegates and their work in the congregation itself. However, the document is not in fact that useful. Its main value was in providing the oppor-tunity for the delegates to familiarize,themselves with the state of the Society through their live exchanges with one another. A document of this kind by its nature remains general, and gives little sense of the extent and import of either the positive or negative points. 671~ / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 The Work of the Commissions As was mentioned above, ten commissions were formed, more or less along the lines of the categories of material received in the postulates. While a few others later came into being and some of the original ones were changed, these ten commissions formed pretty much the working base of the Congrega-tion. Risking over-simplification, they could be divided into those which looked mainly inward, for example, about our "grades," the Fourth Vow, for-mation, final incorporation into the Society (final vows), central government, the constitution of provincial and general congregations; those which looked outward, namely, the mission of the Society today, inculturation, the service of the Society to the Church; and finally those which look both inward and outward, for example, on union of hearts, the Jesuit today. Some comments on a few of the documents might contribute to a better understanding of them. 1. The Mission of the Society Today The decree which took up the lion's share of the time, and which provided the platform for most of the rhetoric was the one that dealt with the mission of the Society today. The very nature of the topic explains why it took so long to come up with a satisfactory formulation. It involves an articulation that had to bring together the old and the new: fidelity to the essentials of the Society's apostolic nature, and coming to grips with the needs of today. While such a formulation has its own difficulties, the problem was exacer-bated by an initially one-sided approach and by the impression that some gave of using language more appropriate to political parties than to a religious group attempting to clarify its mission. The initial approach was largely horizontal, too much concentrated on the socio-economic aspects, with too lit-tle of the priestly. In the effort to make the congregation conscious of the urgency of these problems there was a tendency to absolutize what was in fact only one aspect of the Society's apostolate. One of the observations offered by Cardinal Villot in the letter in which he com-municated the Pope's authorization to promulgate the work of the congregation pertains to this decree. He stresses an important point, which is already present in the decree, but which deserves emphasis, namely, that the total work of evangelization has a comprehen-sion that cannot be reduced to working for social justice, and secondly that there is a priestly way of working for social justice that is distinct from the proper role of the laity. No one can judge from the final document how much work went into it. If one were tothink of a carpenter shop filled with shavings, and one tiny cabinet to show for the work, the comparison would be apt. The final decree, though somewhat diffuse, manages to relate the fundamental apostolic orientation of the Jesuit life as a priestly order to the promotion of faith which in the real-life situation is inseparable from the promotion of justice. 2. Poverty The. subject of poverty has continued to bedevil our recent congregations. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation ] 679 As everyone knows, there are two main aspects to what is called religious poverty: the juridical and the evangelicalwor the personal appropriation of the values of evangelical poverty. The decree on poverty, probably the most im-portant document to come out of the congregation, has two parts, the first be-ing more inspirational and exhortatory, while the second is juridical, setting down a basic reform in the structures of our institutional practice of poverty. It is not possible to enter into the technicalities of the juridical part of the decree since it presupposes some knowledge of the structure of the Society. Suffice it to say that the decree formulates what is, to my mind, a creative way of realizing for our own times the Ignatian ideal of poverty, taking into con-sideration the different socio-economic conditions of the twentieth and six-teenth centuries. On the personal side, frugality, the sense of being part of the kenotic mystery of Christ, dependence on the community, and identification with the poor are stressed. in his letter, Cardinal Villot makes two points concerning this decree. After commenting on the fact that the Holy Father was aware of the immense amount of work that had gone into this decree, which attempts to relate the traditional practice of poverty in the Society to the needs of our times, he says that considering the newness of the approach, it would be better to promulgate the decree ad experimentum, to be reviewed in the next General Congregation. He also cautions that the decree should not jeopardize the Society's traditional approach to gratuity of ministries. 3. Grades and the Fourth Vow No other subject discussed by the congregation received as much attention from the press as that of our "grades" and the Fourth Vow. As I remarked above, the delegates had proceeded in a spirit of obedience to the Holy Father's wishes, but in the spirit of Ignatian obedience which allows represen-tation of one's case to the superior, with full openness, however, to the final decision of the superior. But, as I mentioned above, the delegates were not aware of an important communication from the Holy Father which he had given to one of the officials manifesting his mind clearly on the topic. We were made aware of this special communication only after we had proceeded in good faith to take up the question, and to give an "indicative" votewone that is not definitive, but from which it is possible to infer the mind of the delegates. The indicative vote was overwhelmingly in favor of abolishing grades. One can imagine the consternation of the Holy Father when he read of the results of this in the Acta, a copy of which he received regularly, especially when he learned that we had not been given his specific directive on this matter which had been communicated to one of the officials of the congregation. This unfortunate series of events precipitated a strong response from the Vatican. First there was a letter from Cardinal Villot in the name of the Holy Father expressing his consternation at the proceedings. Later there was a letter from the Holy Father himself, tin which he expressed his wonderment, pain, disappointment. What the delegates found particularly difficult to understand in Cardinal Viilot's letter was the strong language used about the failure of Fr. Arrupe to exercise the proper kind of leadership that could have headed off this series of unfortunate events. I~1~0 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 While the delegates were still reeling from this unexpected turn of events, they learned of the directive that had been given by Cardinal Villot to one of the officials to be given to the congregation. The official explained before the whole congregation that he had not understood that he was supposed to transmit this directive to the delegates in any official way. This was a costly mistake. Yet in some ways I think it was a felix culpa because of the benefits which came out of it, as I shall comment below. At this point I should say something about the meaning of the grades and the Fourth Vow for those unfamiliar with the Society's structure and legisla-tion. When the idea of the Society was evolving in the mind and experience of Ignatius, one of the features that emerged was a conception of having membership in the Society on different levels, or "grades." For those with their final vows, there were to be three levels or grades. First of all, there are the "solemnly professed," with solemn vows of poverty, chastity, obedience, and a Fourth Vow of special obedience to the Holy Father in regard to mis-sions, that is, apostolic commissions. In the past one hundred years about 40% of Jesuit priests have belonged to this grade. In the mind of Ignatius the professed were supposed to exemplify to a special degree what he looked for in every Jesuit, proficiency in learning, a high degree of virtue, mobility, a life supported only by free-will offerings, exemplifying in their lives a similar relationship to the Vicar of Christ that the disciples showed toward Christ Himself. In addition, key positions in government were reserved to the professed, such as the office of provincial. Again, only the professed could take part in a General Congregation. In the second place, there were priests whose final vows were simple, not solemn. Without going into detail on the differences between solemn and sim-ple vows, it is sufficient to remark here that for one thing they differ accord-ing to the seriousness of the reasons needed for dispensation. This grade is that of "spiritual coadjutor." Members of this grade do not take the vow of special obedience to the Holy Father. In the third place, there are "temporal coadjutors" or brothers. Their final vows are also simple vows of poverty, chast.ity, and obedience. They have the same apostolic purpose as the priests, but have a different way of contributing to the realization of it. The grades are a feature that are peculiar to the Society. As one would sur-mise, the distinction has not been an unmixed blessing in the history of the Society. Though Ignatius never conceived of a Society which would have privileged and unprivileged castes, human nature being what it is, the results were predictable. Since human nature associates power with authority, the professed came to be considered as a kind of first-class type of Jesuit, and the non-professed as second-class. In recent years there has been much historical research on the origin of the ~grades. Also there has been considerable discussion whether the distinction of ~the grades was inextricably tied up with the vision of St. Ignatius, or whether it was something that with the change of times no longer served a purpose. The A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Thirty-first General Congregation did not face the question head-on. It con-tented itself with broadening the norms by which a person could be admitted to profession. It also transmitted the final solution of the problem to the Thirty-second General Congregation. The intervention of the Holy Father did not directly concern grades. He limited himself to the question of the Fourth Vow, which he said could not be extended to non-priests. This intimates that the Holy Father was concerned not simply about a juridical division in the Society which could be changed by another law, but about a theological question concerning the relationship between the priestly identity of those who take the Fourth Vow and the mis-sions which are the direct object of the vow. Again (I am speculating) the intervention of the Holy Father might be a healthy reminder in this age of blurring all distinctions for the sake of dubious notions of equality, that differentiation in functions does not necessarily mean division. Reserving the Fourth Vow to priests helps to keep the priestly focus of the apostolic work of the Society which has characterized it from the begin-ning. This need not create first- and second-class citizens, but it could engender an awareness that there are different gifts within the same body by which the same goal is realized. 4. The Union of Hearts A commission without a name was set up as a kind of catchall to handle four topics that on the surface had little unity: the question of union and pluralism, communal discernment, religious life, and community life. Since I was a member of this commission from beginning to end, I feel more in touch with it than with the other commissions. It was a kind of a "Benjamin" com-mission compared with those set up to handle the "important" topics like mis-sion, grades, poverty, etc. Ironically, Benjamin was suddenly given an importance late in the con-gregation. The Holy Father in his intervention had commented on the fact that he had heard a lot about mission and justice, but little about renewal of the religious life, even though we had already been at it for two months. So all of a sudden the pressure was on to come up with something significant along those lines. The final document on union of hearts is a contemporary commentary, on Chapter One of Part VIII of our Constitutions, "Aids Toward the Uniori of Hearts." Under this heading the commission found a focus which could unite the various topics given to it. Much effort was spent in an attempt to formulate a clear statement on the subject of union and pluralism. Many of the postulates asked for such a state-ment, some of them stressing the harm coming from internal divisions, others emphasizing the need for a "healthy pluralism." Eventually the commission decided that a theoretical statement would not be helpful. Instead it for-mulated, along with principles on which union of hearts is based, certain prac-tical directives on prayer, community life, sacraments, and communal discern-ment. 682 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 The subject of communal discernment received a lot of discussion. Some wanted to turn it into a kind of Aladdin's lamp which could call forth some kind of a jinni. Others were more skeptical over the possibility of univer-salizing the practicableness of such a process. The final statement in the docu-ment attempts to locate communal discernment within the spectrum of various kinds of spiritual exchange within a community, not exaggerating its role, but on the other hand recognizing the value that it has when the right dispositions and circumstances are present. Incidentally about midway through the congregation, an ad hoc commis-sion was also established to see whether the congregation itself could not carry on its work through a method of communal discernment. After a couple of meetings, it dissolved, because it felt that proceeding according to a formal method of communal discernment was impractical for the congregation because of the large numbers involved and the wide range of subjects on the agenda. 5. The Jesuit Today In the light of the diversity that has appeared in Jesuit life over the past ten years, it was felt necessary to have a statement which would describe the meaning of being Jesuit today. The congregation was presented with five different papers, each of which approached the subject of Jesuit identity from different points of view. They opted for the one which now appears among the official decrees. The decree relates Jesuit identity today in a very simple way to our Igna-tian tradition, to our apostolic mission, and to the source, center, and goal of Jesuit life, which is the imitation of Christ. The Holy See and the General Congregation We have already commented on the intervention of the Holy See in regard to the subject of extending the Fourth Vow to non-priests. However, this is only an application of something which is much broader. The interest of the Holy See in this congregation is unparalleled in the whole history of the Society. Perhaps this comes from the fact that Pope Paul had a keen sense of its importance for the Society and for the Church itself. I have just finished once again going over the papal documents, beginning with the letter written to Fr. Arrupe on September 15, 1973, which the Holy Father wrote after Fr. General had announced the convening of the General Congregation, and concluding with the covering letter which was added to the approbation of the decrees. There is one theme running through all of these communications: the necessity of being faithful to the distinctive nature of the Society as it is expressed in the Formula of the Institute, a distinctiveness which has proved its fruitfulness over hundreds of years of experience. Specifically, the Society is described time and time again as a priestly apostolic order, with a special bond of obedience to the Holy See. There is, to be sure, a stress on the need to adapt to the needs of our times, but such adap- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation I 683 tation must always maintain the essentials as these are to be found in the For-mula. 1 Pope Paul wrote of his concern for the Society not only as the Vicar of Christ who has responsibility for the whole Church, but in terms which, unless I am mistaken, are unprecedented in the history of this relationship between the Society and the Holy See. He speaks of himself as the one who has the chief responsibility for the preservation of the Formula of the Institute, "supremus 'Formulae Instituti' fideiussor," and the chief protector and preserver of the Formula, "Formulae Instituti supremus tutor ac custos." It would not be true to say that all of the delegates responded with un-qualified enthusiasm to the interventions of the Holy Father. Though all recognized his right in abstracto to intervene, a~nd the corresponding attitude of obedience to which we were obliged and, which all gave without contesta-tion, nevertheless when the interventions came in this particular way, with these particular words and in this particular timing, there were signs of ruffled feelings. In case anyone needed reminding, we learned in the process that the delegates as a whole, while good and responsible men, are not yet ready for canonization. However, we did see in an exemplary way the incarnation of Jesuit obedience in at least one person, Fr. Arrupe. This was not something he did just "to give good example." His whole life has been so totalized by his faith that even his perceptions pick up the reality beneath the appearance. He senses the presence of the Vicar of Christ beneath the appearance of Pope Paul. The concern of the Holy Father shown in so many ways over the past few years and in a special way through his vigilance over the activities of the con-gregation are to my way of thinking a special grace for the Society. In a way that we never planned on, the interventions of the Holy Father brought us to a level of faith we would not have reached by ourselves. It also brought us to a realization that the Society is a servant of the Church. In some small way the history of this congregation parallels the description of Peter's death, about whom our Lord said, "You will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go" (Jn 21:18). Father Arrupe I have already mentioned that if it were not for Fr. Arrupe's example and leadership the congregation would have capsized under the difficulties it ran into. He constantly called us to a vision we needed in order to see what was happening from a supernatural point of view, and in order to avoid the traps of tNot many Jesuits are aware either of the content or the importance of the Formula of the Institute. Yet, even more than the Constitutions, it is the basic rule or fundamental code of legisla-tion in the Society. It contains the results of the deliberations of Ignatius and his companions in 1539 which provided the first sketch of the Institute of the Society of Jesus. It was first approved by Paul Iil in 1540, then again by Julius 111 in 1550 in a slightly revised form. 684 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 self-pity or recrimination that were only too present. Like one of th~ prophets, he reminded us to see what was happening as coming from the hand of God, and to use it for our own purification and conversion. In a talk given to the delegates on the second day of the congregation, he spoke of the answer that we had to give to the needs of our times. It should be the foolishness of the cross by which Christ redeemed the world, which is the wisdom of God. "In the absolute foolishness of the Cross, the emptying of all things, we find the key to the ultimate solution to the problems of today." In a way we did not foresee, those words were prophetic. Again, he exercised his leadership by leaving the congregation free to follow the paths where its deliberations would take it. In its authority, the General Congregation is superior to the general. Fr. Arrupe always acted with full awareness of this fact. On occasion he would let the delegates know how he felt about certain things, not to pressure them, but in order to make this part of the input of their deliberations. The congregation showed its appreciation of his leadership over the past ten year,s in many ways. There are few who have had to pilot a ship through such a stormy period. The burden has not been easy. But there is always evi-dent in him the same buoyancy and infectious joy that somehow puts him in touch with the Stillpoint that is beyond, above, beneath the storm. Yet, while realizing his outstanding qualities, the delegates did not apotheosize Fr. Arrupe. They realized that with all of his gifts there were also limitations. In fact, the decree which set up a council for the general was framed mainly to supply the kind of help which might balance out the one-sidedness of some of his gifts. Differences Between This Congregation and the Previous Ones The Thirty-second (2ongregati0n had many characteristics which made it very different from any preceding General Congregation. Some of the more important ones might be the following. As was mentioned above, there was a four-year period of preparation for this congregation which was unprecedented. Similarly a few months before the actual opening day a special preparatory commission met to organize the material. This was the first General Congregation where, from the start, traditional rules of secrecy were lifted, except for the prohibition against making public either the names of delegates who spoke on the different questions, or the tally of the votes. Five Jesuit journalists were given free access to the meetings. They published a report about every week that kept the Society informed of the progress of affairs. In this Congregation for the first time the voices of the Third World were not only heard in larger numbers, but they showed a vitality that added zest to the meetings. However, even among these voices there were different accents. All of them were keenly aware of the injustices which oppress their peoples by reason of the exploitation of the capitalistic countries. However, the Spanish- A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 685 speaking delegates tended to stress political and social involvement; the Africans continually reminded us of the need for the sense of the transcendent, the specifically God-and-Christ-centered nature of our apostolate; and those from the Far East, while keeping these same perspectives, also stressed the need for approaches that were directed both toward personal conversion and change of the structures. No other congregation has met at a period when there has been such a crisis in vocations. Over the past ten years, the Society has diminished from about 36,000 to 30,000 members. While in some places the number of novices has begun to pick up again, the overall picture remains dim. In 1965 there were 1902 novices compared to 705 in 1974. In the United States there are about 200 novices, showing a slight increase over the past few years. In some coun-tries, however, the picture is dismal. Spain, for example, had 269 novices in 1965. In 1974 it had only 30. Germany had 114 in 1965. At present it has about 30. Similar figures could be given for France, Belgium, Holland, Italy. When one compares the number of scholastics presently in their training with the number of priests engaged in apostolic work, there is only one scholastic for every five priests. This will seriously change the scope of our apostolic work over the next fifty years. Another unique factor was the everpresent concern of the Holy See in regard to the preparation for the congregation, the things taken up, and the final results, as I have mentioned above. The theme was repeated over and over again: be faithful to yourselves, especially to your identity as it is ex-pressed in your Formula of the Institute. The only specific feature which was singled out in the expressions of this concern was fidelity to the lgnatian idea of the Fourth Vow, both positively in the fact that it should be a vital factor in the life of the Society, and negatively in that it should not be extended to non-priests. Again, the fact of asking the congregation to submit its decrees to the Holy See for its approval before they were promulgated was unprecedented. The approbation was given with, in some instances, a few qualifications. Another characteristic which distinguishes this congregation from begin-ning to end and is evident in the decrees is thee theme of repentance. There is a mea culpa, mea maxima culpa evident in the Introductory Decree, the Decree on Mission, on The Jesuit Today, as well as in others. The Society is painfully conscious of its failings over the past ten years. Particularly in contrast to the Thirty-first Congregation, with its stress on freedom, subsidiarity and conscience, this one stressed the complementary features of the limits of pluralism, the need for norms that are applicable for Jesuit life as a whole, the responsibility of superiors for a greater firmness in governing, the importance of the manifestation of conscience both for the spiritual direction of the individual, and the good of the apostolate, the value of communal discernment when the proper conditions are realized. This congregation, unlike others, had a unifying theme throughout: the mission of the Society today. This did not happen because it was planned. There was a kind of unconscious dynamic at work which imperceptibly gave 686 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 this orientation to the various decrees. The consciousness of mission, if fully appropriated in all of its richness, could do much to revivify the Society, over-coming in the first place a great deal of individualism and self-will, and bring-ing about a greater sense of the living presence of Christ sending through His Church, and through superiors. In the actual procedure of the congregation there were unique features arising from the sharing that took place in smaller groups. One of the most im-portant parts of our daily life was the concelebrated Mass which was celebrated according to the different language groupings. Finally this congregation is probably distinctive in the fact that a little over half of the delegates were under forty-nine years old (122 out of the 236). Strengths and Weaknesses of the Congregation Like all meetings of this kind there are both strengths and weaknesses to be found. I could not resist the temptation to say that one of the strengths was un-doubtedly sheer psychological tenacity to "keep at it" for over three months when everyone was exhausted both from the work itself and the emotional strain. But the main strength of the congregation is the sense of solidarity manifest among the delegates and throughout the Society, a solidarity coming from a vision based on faith and brought into an Ignatian focus through the Spiritual Exercises and our Jesuit tradition. However, I think that there are also some deficiences evident in the work and structure of the congregation. Some way has to be found to expedite the carrying out of business. Though it was an attempt to get the input from the whole Society, on balance, the analysis of the postulates took up too much time. And questions of order consumed interminable hours. In regard to particular questions, in retrospect, it might have been a serious mistake not to have separated in some way the question of the Fourth Vow from that of grades. While they are related, they are distinct. And the interven-tion of the Holy See was concerned with the Fourth Vow, and not directly with grades. Again the expression given to the relationship of the Society to the Holy Father is "safe," but it creates the impression of one who is driving a car with one foot on the accelerator and the other on the brake. It does not seem to ex-press the 61an of Jesuit spirituality in its fullness. One reason for this inade-quacy stems from the fact that the congregation came to the topic only in the last few days before it ended, and the members did not have the mental energy or the time to do justice to it. Another difficulty is in the formulation itself. Attempts to combine both the unreserved expression of the spirit of loyalty and the juridical aspect of limits tend to cancel one another out. For example, there were numerous attempts, all sterile, to speak of "mission" in relationship to "doctrine," wherein loyalty would be unreserved in regard to mission, but conditioned in regard to doctrine. Consequently the resulting statement is bland, not nuanced. This will probably be one of the main topics that will have to be taken up at the next General Congregation. A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation Another deficiency is the fact that the congregation treated those problems which are more obvious because they have a certain shrillness--the problem, for example, of global injustice. Just as important, however, but without the volume being turned up, are questions touching man and technology, par-ticularly the genetic manipulation of man. Again, these questions will probably have to be faced by the next congregation. What to Hope For If the Society as a whole could translate what is set down in the decrees from formulation into fact, it would be renewed. In turn it would become a great force in renewing the Church and the world. What hope is there for such a renewal? The parable of the sower and the seed has its application to the Society as well as to the Church. There are those whose roots are not deep enough to withstand trials. There are others whose life of faith is choked by cares and riches. But then there are the many who do yield fruit, some, a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty. Decrees, however excellent, are no substitute for the gospel-call to totality. To the degree that individuals open themselves to the radical call of the gospel will they also open themselves to the decrees, which after all are only a faltering attempt to express this radical call in a way that is both Ignatian and contemporary. There are many factors which will contribute to energizing this renewal. Many feel a need for a deeper life of prayer. The importance of spiritual direc-tion is expressing itself strongly. A fuller appropriation of the Spiritual Exercises ¯ through the directed retreat is a great blessing. Again, an important factor is the reinforcement and leadership given to the Society by other religious con-gregations which have already led the way in the renewal of religious life by bringing their lives more in conformity with gospel simplicity and single-mindedness. We can also hope that we will not repeat the mistakes of the past ten years. Considering the turmoil and confusion coming from "future shock," these mistakes are perhaps understandable. But no organization can exist in a state of continuous convulsion. Many of the delegates, in searching for answers to the problems which faced us "discovered" our Thirty-first Congregation, which someone described as the great congregation in the history of the Society. We found that in many cases we could not do better, in fact could hardly come up to the decrees of the Thirty-first. But we also felt like a traveler who had spent hours trying to find his way only to discover after much meandering that there was a map in his glove compartment. The documents of the Thirty-first General Congreg -tion were such a map. The logical question, then, is: why were not the decrees implemented? A still more haunting question is: will the same thing happen to the decrees of this congregation? This was a problem which preoccupied the delegates throughout the whole time. Meetings were held to discuss implementation. But as the saying goes, 61~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 there is many a slip,between the cup and the lip. How much will the Society be able to drink in from the decrees? One of the main sources of hope, in addition to those mentioned above, is a renewed sense of solidarity and confidence among the provincials, and a strong sense of support in Fr. General. In the past ten years very often inaction resulted not from a failure of courage or faith, but because of a blurring of ideas concerning the fundamentals of religious life, often enough because of contradictory views bandied by theologians. The provincials obviously have not suddenly received some formula of universal application to solve all problems, but there is a greater sense of assurance and direction. The weight of implementation turns around the local superiors with the support of the provincials. There is hope here also, because the superiors themselves have a greater sense of their solidarity and of their role as spiritual leaders of the local communities. Ultimately the problem is always the same: conversion. It is something never accomplished once and for all, but continues to repeat its call. There are the perennial obstacles to conversion: inertia, self-love, self-will, the evil spirits that affect us all as individuals. However, it especially in the way that the collectivity reenforces the inertia in individuals that we find the main obstacle today. Group-think and group-feel, in large part created through the media, produce a kind of closedness that filters down from a collective level to in-dividuals, bringing about imperceptibly a closedness in the individual. Each one, young or old, is caught in some degree on this split level of collectivity and self, and suffers from the unfreedom of the collectivity. Jesuits already engaged in the apostolate have to discern how much this group-think affects their personal lives, impeding their personal conversion and the fruitfulness of their apostolate. Jesuits who are in formation have to do the same. The responsibility of those who are in charge of training the younger Jesuits is great. The importance of the congregation comes not from the written decrees but from the support that these decrees give to creating in the Society a different kind of group-think, a "group-feel" based upon the gospel. "My name is legion." Legions can be driven out only by legions. The demonic in collectivity can only be driven out by the embodiment of holiness in collec-tivity. The Society will rise or fall to the extent that the good will of the in-dividual is supported and sustained by a corporate realization of sanctity. No individual can abdicate the responsibility for his own conversion. But in a special way superiors have a responsibility for the whole group. Newman remarked somewhere that good is never done except at the expense of those who do it, and truth is never enforced except at the sacrifice of its propounders. Reformers and prophets have never been well received. Perhaps superiors are destined to enter into that role, not, however, with a martyr complex or heaviness of heart. We have a living example in Fr. Arrupe that it is a role that is compatible with a deep joy. Aiding and facilitating the work of the superiors are the communities A Survey of the Thirty-Second General Congregation / 689 themselves which are called upon, through community meetings and prayerful discernment, to face their own response to the gospel call to simplicity, and to bridge the gap between the radical response to which we have vowed our lives and the actual way in which we live them. When I asked one of the delegates who was in great part responsible for the formulation of the decree on poverty how optimistic he was about its im-plementation, he said: "When I think of human nature, I am not very op-timistic. But when I think of the power of the Spirit, 1 am hopeful. Everything depends on the Spirit. Legislation can support; it cannot convert. Of ourselves we are weak, but with the power of the Spirit we can overcome, overcome even ourselves." POSITION OPEN The Department of Theology in the School of Religious Studies of the Catholic University of America announces the opening, beginning January, 1976, for: Assistant, Associate or Full Professor in the field of Christian Spiritual Theology. Applications should be sent to:Chairperson Department of Theology Catholic University of America Washington, DC 20064 The Catholic University of America is an equal ol~portunity employer. The Recovery =of Religious Life Bro. Raymond L. Fitz, S.M. Bro. Lawrence J. Cada, S.M. Both authors belong to the Marianist Training Network. Brother Raymond Fitz is director of the Marianist Institute of Christian Renewal and associate professor of Engineering Management and Electrical Engineering at the University of Dayton. He lives at 410 Edgar Avenue; Dayton, Ohio 45410. Brother Lawrence Cada is chairman of the Department of Science and Mathematics at Borromeo College of Ohio and lives at 315 East 149 Street; Cleveland, Ohio 44110. I. Introduction~ How long will the turmoils now besetting religious life last? Are they almost over, and has the process of returning to a more normal situation begun? Or will things stay unsettled for some time to come? This article will argue for the likelihood of the latter alternative. On the basis of the models and analyses presented, the article will try to show that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty to twenty-five years to run its full course. Moreover, the study will seek to demonstrate that social disintegration (loss of membership, lack of vocations, collapse of institutions, etc.) of religious communities in the Church will probably continue for at least the next ten to fifteen years. The most significant questions facing religious life in those ten to fifteen years will center on "death and dying." Many aspects of the life as it has been known will be passing away. Only after these questions are accepted and creatively answered can religious life be expected to be revitalized and renewed within the Church. This process will demand both a recovery of that deep dynamic impulse which first gave rise to religious life in the Church and a recovery from the malaise through which it is now passing: tThis is a draft of a work in progress. Feedback on the content and style of this paper would be ap-preciated. 690 The Recovery of Religious Life hence the title "The Recovery of Religious Life." Although much of this arti-cle argues for the plausibility of these assertions and their implications for the future of religious life, there will also be provided an explanation of how the data were collected and organized, and of what was called important or unim-portant. In this sense, these assertions represent a starting bias that informs the entire article. As such, this bias merits being stated at the outset. The approach taken in this article2 is to explore the questions about the future of religious life from a historical and sociological point of view. In the first two parts of the article, two models are developed: a historical model of the evolution of religious life as a movement in the Church and a sociological model dealing with the organizational life cycle of an individual religious com-munity. Then, in the final sections of the article, these two models will be used to address questions about the present condition of religious life and its future. Every model represents a simplification of reality, and the models in this arti-cle are no exception. To arrive at the questions posed in the final sections, the article will digest and condense large amounts of material drawn from a variety of sources that are partially indicated in the notes. It is hoped that this simplification is not a serious distortion of the facts and that it will arrange the historical and other data in such a way as to provide an overview from which some tentative generalizations can be made. II. The Evolution of Religious Life: A Historical Model Religious communities in the life of the church are not fixed and static en-tities. Taken together they make up a historical process unfolding over time, and religious life can be viewed as a significant social movement in the history of Western Culture. As parts of a movement, religious communities arose in response to dramatic social change in the Church and in the larger cultural and political arena of Western Civilization. They became a dynamic force in shap-ing and cha~ging the Church and secular culture. They have been both a cause and an effect of social change: the founding of religious communities has fre-quently been a response to major developments of society, and the evolution of the Church and Western Culture has been significantly influenced by the life and work of religious communities. As in all social movements, the role of myth, the emergence of belief systems, the fashioning of institutions and social structures, and the role of personal transformation and commitment are central to the evolution of religious life. The dynamic interplay of all these elements creates, sustains and limits the histo~'ical unfolding of religious communities. ~This article grew from a variety of experiences over an extended period of time with multiple presentations at workshops and reflections from many religious. Especially helpful were Fr. Norbert Brockman, S.M., Sr. Gertrude Foley, S.C., Bro. Thomas Giardino, S.M., and Sr. Carol Lichtenberg, S.N.D. The scheme of dividing the history of religious life into the five eras presented in the second part of this article was first suggested in a lecture given by Fr. David Fleming, S.M., at the University of Dayton in December, 1971. 692 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 A. Organizing Concepts One way to view the unfolding of religious life within the Church is to look at how the image of religious life has evolved over time and what implications this evolution has had for the functioning of individual religious communities.3 The term dominant image of religious life is used here to name a multifaceted reality that includes how religious view their life and its functions and role within the Church and the world during a given period. The term is also meant to indicate the sense of history which permeates religious life at a given time. How do people, both the religious and the members of society at large, picture the past of this way of life? What kind of future are religious supposed to be creating? The process by which the dominant image of religious life evolves in time can be characterized by a repeated sequence of identifiable phases of change: - Growth Phase. A relatively long period of elaboration and develop-ment of the dominant image of religious life and its implications. - Decline Phase. A period of crisis in which the dominant image of religious life comes under strong question. Religious communities seem no longer suited to the aspirations of the age. Religious com-munities lose their purpose, drift into laxity, and disintegrate. Transition Phase. A comparatively short period of revitalization in which variations of the dominant image of religious life emerge and one of these is gradually selected as the new dominant image. - Growth Phase under a New Image. A period of elaboration and development under the new dominant image of religious life. The supposition that religious life has passed through a succession of such phases of growth, decline, and transition is the basis of a model that can be used to organize and interpret the data of the history of religious life.4 The remainder of this section is devoted to illustrating a way this model might be constructed. 3Some sources used to clarify the notion of dominant image were Fred Polak, The hnage of the Future, translated and abridged by Elise Boulding (San Francisco: Jassey-Bass, 1973); Changing Images of Man, Policy Research Report No. 4, Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute, May, 1974; and Kenneth E. Boulding, The Image: Knowledge in Life and Society (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1961). *Some sources used to clarify the notion of social evolution were Stephen Toulmin, Human Understanding-I (Princeton: P. U. P., 1972); Anthony F. C. Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes in Cultural Change," American Anthropologist (Vol. 74, 1972), pp. 467-478; Donald T. Campbell, "'Variation and Selective Retention in Socio-Cultural Evolution," in H. R. Barringer, G. I. Blanksten, and R. W. Mack (¢ds.), Social Change in Developing Areas (Cambridge, Mass.: Schenkman, 1965); Edgar S. Dunn, Economic and Social Development." A Process of Social Learn-ing (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins U. P., 1971); and Thomas S. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962). The Recovery of Religious Life / 693 The following questions have been used in fashioning the model. First, there are questions about variation that deal with searching and experiment-ing. Under what conditions do variations appear in the dominant image of religious life? If these variations lead in certain directions, what factors in culture, the Church, or religious life itself influenced the choice of those direc-tions? Second, there are questions about selection. What determines which variations in the dominant image of religious life are selected out to serve as essential elements of a new image of religious life? How do members of religious communities distinguish well-founded and properly justified variations from those which are precipitous, not well thought out, and hasty? ¯ Finally, there are questions about retention that deal with incorporating and establishing the new. How are selected variations incorporated into religious communities? What processes are needed? What set of factors distinguishes in-novations which endure from those which disappear quickly? B. Major Eras in the Evolution of Religious Life Using the concepts described above, the history of religious life can be divided into five main periods: the eras of the Desert Fathers, Monasticism, the Mendicant Orders, the Apostolic Orders, and the Teaching Congregations) The description of these eras given in this section constitutes the historical model that will be used in the final portion of this article. 1. Era of the Desert Fathers The first period was the Era of the Desert Fathers. Following the earliest manifestations of religious life in the mode of consecrated virgins and widows within the Christian communities of the persecuted Church, ther~ emerged the image of the religious as the ascetic holy person. The description of the her-mit's life given by Athanasius in his Life of Anthony crystallized an ideal which inspired both solitary anchorites and many communities of cenobites. The desert was seen as the domain of the demons to which they had retreated after being driven out of the cities by the triumph of the recently established Church. It was to this "desert" that generous men and women withdrew to 5Factual and historical data on the history of religious life were gathered from such standard sources as The Catholic Encyclopedia (1907), The New Catholic Encyclopedia (1967), the An-nuario Pontificio, The Official Catholic Directory, and The Catholic Almanac. Some of the other sources on this topic were Raymond Hostie, S.J., Vie et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1972); David Knowles, O.S.B., Christian Monasticism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1969); Humbert M. Vicaire, O.P., The Apostolic Life (Chicago: Priory Press, 1966); Derwas J. Chitty, The Desert a City (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1964); Owen Chadwick, John Cassian, 2nd ed. (Cambridge: C. U. P., 1968); William Hinnebusch, O.P., "'How the Dominican Order Faced Its Crises," Review for Religious (Vol. 32, No. 6, November, 1973), pp. 1307-1321; William A. Hinnebusch, O.P., The History of the Dominican Order, 2 vols. (New York: Alba House, 1966, 1973); Teresa Ledochowska, O.S.U., Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula, 2 vols. (Rome: Ancora, 1969); William V. Bangert, S.J., A History of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1972); and Adrien Dansette, Religious History of Modern France, 2 vols. (New York: Herder and Herder, 1961). 69t~ / Review for Religious, lZolume 34, 1975/5 carry on the Church's important work of doing battle with the devil in the wilderness as Christ had done long ago. In this way the desert came to be seen as a place of austere beauty, where the monk was trained in the ways of perfec-tion. He returned from time to time into the midst of his fellow Christians, who saw in him the power to do good--healing the sick, casting out demons, comforting the sorrowful with gentle words, reconciling the estranged, and above all urging everyone to put nothing in the world before the love of Christ. This image captured the imagination of the Christian world as news about the Desert Fathers spread from Egypt to all points of the Roman empire. Throughout the 4th century monasteries sprang up on all the shores of the Mediterranean. By the 5th century, the golden age had begun to fade. In the East, the monks had become embroiled in doctrinal controversy. In the West, TABLE 1: ERA OF THE DESERT FATHERS (200-500) Dominant Image of Religious Life. The ideal of religious life is the holy ascetic who seeks " the perfection of Christ as a solitary or in community with a group of monks. Disciples withdraw into the "desert" and place themselves under the care of a master ascetic who teaches them the ways of perfection. They live nearby as hermits or gather in cenobia or monasteries where the master is the superior. The monk prays, mortifies himself, does battle with the devil for the sake of the Church, and spends his life seeking union with Christ. 2nd and 3rd Centuries 251 Anthony horn Consecrated virgins and widows live a form of 271 Anthony withdraws into the desert RL within Christian communities of the early 292 Pachomius born Church during the persecution. 4th Century 313 Edict of Milan 325 Pachomius founds cenobium 356 Anthony ~lies 357 Athanasius writes Life of Anthony 360 Basil founds monastery in Cappadocia 363 Martin founds monastery in Gaul 376 Melania founds monastery on Mount of Olives 393 Augustine founds monastic group in Hip-po 399 Cassian, disciple of Evagrius, migrates from Egypt to West Hermits and cenobites flourish in the Egyptian desert. Various forms of solitary and com-munity RL spread around eastern rim of the Mediterranean (Palestine, Syria, Cappadocia). First monasteries are founded in the West. 5th Century 410 Alaric sacks Rome RL continues to expand in the East. Spread of 415 Cassian founds monastery in Marseille wandering monks and various kinds of 455 Vandals sack Rome monasteries in the West while the western half 459 Simon the Stylite dies of the Roman Empire crumbles. 476 End of western Roman Empire 1st TRANSITION: SPREAD OF BENEDICT'S RULE The Recovery of Religious Life / 69t~ the foundations of Roman civilization weakened under the onslaught of the barbarian tribes, and the ties between the eastern and western halves of the Empire began to break apart. The monasteries in Gaul and other parts of the moribund West became refugee cloisters, where the monks gathered the few treasures of civilization they could lay hold of. As dusk settled on the glories of imperial Rome, the stage was set for the rise of feudal Europe and with it the next period in the evolution of religious life. 2. Era of Monasticism The next period was the Era of Monasticism. In his attempt to regularize religious life as "a life with God in separation from the world," Benedict produced a new dominant image of religious life. This image was not only a correction of the abuses which had crept in during the 5th and 6th centuries, it also, and more importantly, turned out to be a successful adaptation of religious life to the feudal society of the Dark Ages and the early medieval period. Benedict's short and practical Rule furnished workable guidelines for all monastic activity and every age and class of monks. It combined an uncom-promising spirituality with physical moderation and flexibility. It emphasized the charity and harmony of a simple life in common under the guidance of a wise and holy abbot. By the 9th century, this new image had spread to virtually all the monasteries of Europe. The ideal of the Benedictine monk became the model for Christian spirituality and played a part in the stabilization and unification of society. Various modifications, such as the Cluniac, Carthusian, and Cister-cian Reforms, maintained and adapted the dominant image to the developments in European society. Cluny and the Cistercians devised methods of uniting monasteries into networks that became harbingers of the modern order. However, by the time the 'first stirrings of urbanization began at the end of the 12th century, the dominant image began to show its inadequacies and once again laxity in religious life was not uncommon. There was also a great debate between monks and canons about which form of religious life was a more authentic embodiment of the apostolic ideal. As the civilization of the high Middle Ages began to emerge, new possibilities were felt in society and with them came the opportunity for a transition in religious life. 3. Era of the Mendicant Orders When Francis and Dominic launched their communities, they ushered in the next period, the Era of the Mendicant Orders. As mendicant friaries sprang up in towns across Europe, they met with an initial hostility which could not fathom how this new style could be an authentic form of religious life. Gradually, though, the new image of religious life became acceptable, and it proved to be a much better adaptation of ~:eligious life to the needs of urban society than was possible for the monasteries in their rural settings. During the course of the 13th century, even the monastic orders established studia close 696 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 to the new universities, where the mendicants were flourishing. As Christen-dom was passing through its zenith, the image of a religious life unen-cumbered with landed wealth played a key role in the cultivation of the in-tellectual life by the Church within society and in the preaching of the Gospel for the Church. TABLE 2: ERA OF MONASTICISM (500-1200) Dominant Image of RL. Life in a monastery is the ideal of the religious. The daily round of liturgical prayer, work, and meditation provides a practical setting to pursue the lofty goals of praising God and union with Christ. Within the Church and society, the monks set an example of how deep spirituality can be combined with loving ministry to one's neighbor and dutiful fidelity to the concrete tasks of daily living. 6th Century 529 Benedict founds a monastery to live ac- Spread of monasteries throughout western cording to his Rule Europe (Gaul, Spain, Ireland, etc.). Various 540 Celtic monasticism takes root in Irela'nd formats. Excesses and laxity are common--as 590 Columbanus founds monastery in Lu~r are wandering monks. euil 7th and 8th Centuries 642 Arab conquest of Egypt Gradual spread of Benedict's Rule to.more and 700 Venerable Bede more monasteries of Europe. Missionary 746 Boniface founds monastery in Germany journeys of Celtic monks to evangelize 755 Canons of Chrodegang founded northern Europe. 9th Century 816 Regula Canonicorum of Aix-la-Chapelle Observance of Canons Regular is made uni- 817 Charlemagne's son decrees that form by the spread of the Rule of Aix. Con- Benedict's Rule is to be observed in all solidation of Benedict's Rule. Virtually all monasteries. This project coordinated by monasteries are "Benedictine." Benedict of Aniane. 910 Cluniac Reform 1084 Carthusian Reform 1098 Cistercian Reform 10th and llth Centuries Various reforms breathe new life into Benedict's ideal and introduce organizational variations. 1111 Bernard joins the Cistercians 1120 Premonstratensians founded 12th Century Canons Regular unite into orders which are a variation of the monastic networks of Cluny and Citeaux. Military orders attempt a new form of RL which is temporarily successful (Knights of Malta, Templars, Teutonic Knights, etc.). 2nd TRANSITION: RISE OF THE MENDICANTS After a rapid flowering, the mendicant orders were affected by the same changes which spread across the Church and European society in the 14th and 15th centuries. As the Renaissance presaged the new humanism, the secularization of European society, and the breakup of the unity of Christen-dom, there emerged the conditions for yet a new kind of religious life. The Recovery of Religious Life / 697 TABLE 3: ERA OF THE MENDICANT ORDERS (1200-1500) Dominant Image of RL. The simple friar who begs for his keep and follows in the footsteps of the Lord is the ideal of RL. He prays as he goes, steeping himself in the love of Christ. Unencumbered by landed wealth, the mendicants are free to travel on foot to any place they are needed by the Church. They hold themselves ready to preach, cultivate learning, serve the poor, and minister to the needs of society in the name of the Church. 1211 Franciscans founded 1216 Dominicans founded 1242 Carmelites founded 1256 Augustinians founded 13th Century Mendicant friaries spring up in medieval towns across Europe. These foundations lend themsel~,es to work in the new universities and the apostolate of preaching. Rapid expansion of the mendicant orders. Monastic orders make some attempts to take up the style of the mendicants. 1325 75,000 men in mendicant orders 1344 Brigittines founded 1349 Black Death 1400 47,000 men in mendicant orders 1415 Hus burned at the stake 1450 Gutenberg 1492 Columbus 1500 90,000 men in mendicant orders 14th Century ~tabilization and slow decline of the mendicant orders. Abuses in RL are prevalent. 15th Century Various reforms restore the mendicant ideal and produce a gradual increase in membership. First stirrings of the Renaissance introduce an uneasiness into the Church and RL. 3rd TRANSITION: THE COUNTER-REFORMATION 4. Era of the Apostolic Orders The transition to the next period in religious life, the era of the Apostolic Orders, happened with the Counter-Reformation. Not long after Luther sparked the Protestant Revolt, the new image of religious life appeared with the foundation of various orders of Clerics Regular, the chief of which were the Jesuits. The verve and style of this new foundation set the pace for religious life, The mendicant orders had taken up this ideal in part by joining in the mis-sionary conquests,of the Church in the newly discovered lands. The new image also spurred religious to come to terms with the secularizing trends of the scientific revolution, modern philosophy, and the rise of nationalism in Europe. Jesuits, for example, could be found in the royal courts of almost all of Europe's Catholic kingdoms, in the laboratories of the new scientists, and teaching the youthful Descartes at La Fl~che. As the proponents of the Enlightenment testily challenged the very ex-istence of the Church, a slow decline descended upon religious life. Large and nearly empty monasteries dotted the European countryside. Jansenist and Enlightened thought undermined the.rationale for religious life from opposite directions. The Bourbon kings succeededin persuading Rome to suppress the 69~! / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 Jesuits in 1773. On the eve of the French Revolution, worldwide membership in all the men's religious orders stood at about 300,000; by the time the Revolution and the secularization which followed had run their course, fewer than 70,000 remained. Many orders went out of existence. As the 19th century began, there was need of a thorough-going revival of religious life, which could realistically cope with the new consciousness of Europe. TABLE 4: ERA OF THE APOSTOLIC ORDERS (1500-1800) Dominant Image of RL. Religious are an elite of dedicated and militant servants of the Church with a high level of individual holiness, a readiness to defend the Church on any front, and the zeal to win new expansion for the Church to the very ends of the earth. 1517 Luther sparks the Reformation 1535 Ursulines founded 1540 Jesuits founded 1541 Francis Xavier sails for Far East 1545 Trent starts 1562 Discalced Carmelite Reform 16th Century RE virtually wiped out in Protestant Europe. Founding and expansion of a new kind of RL in the format of the Clerics Regular. These groups work at shoring up the Church's political power in Catholic Europe, reforming the Church, and spreading the Gospel in the foreign missions. 17th Century 1610 Visitation Nuns founded 1625 Vincentians founded 1633 Daughters of Charity founded 1650 St. Joseph Sisters founded 1662 Ranc6 launches Trappist Reform 1663 Paris Foreign Mission Society founded 1681 Christian Brothers founded 1700 213,000 men in mendicant orders Flowering of spirituality, especially in French School, leads to new foundations such as the various societies of priests and clerical con-gregations. Bulk of men religious still belong to mendicant orders. 1725 Passionists founded 1735 Redemptorists founded 1770 300,000 men in RL in world 1773 Jesuits suppressed by Rome 1789 French Revolution starts 18th Century A few clerical congregations emerge, but RL as a whole seems to be in decline due to the in-roads of Enlightenment thought, Jansenism, wealth, and laxity. Weakened RL is given the coup de gr?tce by the French Revolution, which sets off a wave of political suppression and defection in France and the rest of Catholic Europe. 4th TRANSITION: FRENCH REVOLUTION 5. Era of the Teaching Congregations The revival of religious life which occurred in the next period, the Era of the Teaching Congregations, set off in a new direction. There were about 600 foundations of new communities in the 19th century. They were, for the most part, dominated by the movement of educating the masses. For the first time The Recovery of Religious Life / 699 in European history, the idea of educating everyone had the possibility of be-ing concretely realized. The new congregations joined in this movement in hopes of planting the seeds of a hardy faith in the souls of the children they taught by the thousands. This zeal for the education of children was combined with a cleansed Jansenistic spirituality to form the new image of religious life. While the activity of religious spilled over into other apostolic works such as hospitals, teaching set the pace. Even the few pre-Revolution orders which were managing a slow recovery took on many of the trappings of the typical 19th century teaching congregation. For the first time in the history of religious life, recruitment of adult vocations was almost completely displaced by the acceptance of candidates just emerging from childhood. Through the end of the 19th century and on into the 20th the religious who gave themselves to this demanding work of teaching edified the Church and produced a brand of holiness which was most appropriate for a Catholicism which sought to strengthen a papacy denuded o.f worldly power and to care for the masses of the industrialized wor.ld in need of christianization. By the mid-1960's membership in religious communities reached the highest point in the history of the Church. In the last decade, this trend was reversed for the first time in more than a century. Crises have set in which some ascribe to a loss of identity TABLE 5: ERA OF THE TEACHING CONGREGATIONS (1800-present) Dominant Image of RL. Religious dedicate their lives to the salvation of their own souls and the salvation of others. The style of life of religious men and women blends in intense pursuit of personal holiness with a highly active apostolic service. Identity with the person of Christ unites this two-fold objective into a single purpose. 19th Century 1814 French Restoration; Jesuits restored by Rome 1825 Fewer than 70,000 men in RL in world 1831 Mercy Sisters founded 1850 83,000 men in RL in world 1859 Salesians founded 1870 Papal infallibility declared Revival of RL after widespread state sup-pressions. Numerous foundations of con-gregations dedicated to a return to authentic RL blended with service, principally in schools. Old orders, such as Jesuits and Dominicans, rejuvenated in the format of the teaching con-gregations. Church gradually centralizes around the papacy and isolates itself from secular trends of the modern world 20th Century 1950 275,000 men in RL in world 1962 Vatican II starts; 1,012,000 women in RL in world 1965 335,000 men in RL in world 1966 181,500 women in RL in U.S. 1972 879,000 women in RL in world 1973 143,000 women in RL in U.S. 1974 227,500 men in RL in world Expansion and solidification. In the sixties, crises set in from within RL due to loss of iden-tity and inroads of secularizing process. Numerous defections and decreasing numbers of new members. 5th TRANSITION: (?) 700 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 and the inroads of secularism. It seems that another transition in the long history of religious life has begun. Further considerations will be undertaken in the remainder of this article to better analyze the present situation. 11I. The Life Cycle of a Religious Community: A Sociological Model The previous section of this paper focused on a historical model for the evolution of religious life as such within the Church; in this section attention is turned toward the life of the individual religious community or institute. To this end, a sociological model for the life cycle of individual religious com-munities which organizes the important dimensions of each period in the life of the communities is developed.6 This model allows further probing of the questions concerning the plausibility of a revitalization of religious life, since revitalization of present religious communities is one way that religious life as a whole will be renewed. A. Organizing Concepts To date, only thirteen men's religious orders in the entire his.tory of the Church have ever surpassed a membership figure of 10,000 at some point of their existence. The membership pattern of three of these orders--the Dominicans, the Minims, and the Jesuits--is graphed in Figure 1 below. Although these three examples are taken from among the largest orders of the Church, they are representative of the membership pattern in most religious communities, large or small. Typically one finds one or more cycles of growth and decline in the number of members. These membership patterns suggest a dynamic of inner vitality that goes on in a religious community. Using such analogies as the human life cycle and other cycles of growth and decline, a sociological model has been devised which divides the life cycle of an active religious community into five periods: foundation, expansion, stabilization, breakdown and transition. The model is shown schematically in Figure 2. The shape of this curve is intended to repre-sent the over-all vitality of the community as it passes from one period to the next. In the following section salient events and characteristics which typify each of these periods are described. An attempt is also made to isolate the crises which occur during each period. ~Some sources used to clarify the notion of a life cycle were Hostie, Vie et mort; Wallace, "'Paradigmatic Processes"; Gordon L. Lippitt and Warren H. Schmidt, "Crisis in a Developing Organization," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 45, No. 6, November-December, 1967), pp. 102- 112; and Lawrence E. Greiner, "Evolution and Revolution as Organizations Grow," Harvard Business Review (Vol. 50, No. 4, July-August, 1972), pp. 37-46; Thomas F. O'Dea, The Sociology of Religion (Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1966); Luther P. Gerlach and Virginia H. Hine, People. Power and Change: Movements of Social Transformation (Indianapolis: Bobbs- Merrill, 1970). The Recovery of Religious Life / 701 _z 20 LLI ~ lO 30 1200 1300 ! \/ , st 1400 1500 1600 1700 I t I t I I I II ! I ! 1800 1900 2000 Figure 1: Membership of Dominicans, Minims, and Jesuits IFOUNDATIONIEXPANSION ISTABILIZATION BREAKDOWN TRANSITION Figure 2: Life Cycle of a Religious Community B. The Periods of the Life Cycle 1. The Foundation Period The first period in the life of a religious community centers around a found-ing person and his or her vision. The founder or foundress undergoes a radically transformi,ng experience, which can usually be pinpointed to an event or series of events, and .which is perceived as an abrupt shift in the founding 702 / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/5 person's identity and a timeless moment in which a vision or dream is received. Contained in the transforming experience is a new appreciation of the message of Jesus which leads to innovative insight on how the condition of the Church or society could be dramatically improved or how a totally new kind of future could be launched. A new impetus to live the religious life in all the totality of its demands is felt, and a new theory emerges that is at once a critique of the present, an appropriation of the past, a compelling image of the future, and a basis for novel strategies. The founding person's transforming experience is followed by the initial emergence of the community. A fortuitous encounter takes place between the founder or foundress and some contemporary men or women in which the founding experience, the innovative insight, the emerging theory, and the call to holiness are shared. The group unites under the guidance of the founding person to search for and invent new arrangements for living the Gospel together and working toward the realization of the Kingdom of God. The foundation period may last ten to twenty years or longer and fre-quently coincides with the last part of the founding person's lifetime. Integra-tion and cohesion center on the founding person and still more deeply on the person of Christ. The structural identity of the community appears in seminal form, and authority in the community springs from the wisdom of the found-ing person. Founding events of religious communities have a uniqueness about them which has caused them to be especially treasured as significant moments in the Church's past. Examples of founding persons and their visions readily come to mind: Angela Merici's dream of a new kind of religious life for women that centered on an active apostolate; the hopes of Robert of Molesme to restore fervor through the primitive observance of Benedict's Rule in the wilderness of C~teaux; Don Bosco's contagious vision of loving Christ and joyfully serving the poor. The more striking cases of founding persons receiving their in-spirations have become part of the common heritage of all religious: Anthony hearing in a Sunday Gospel the words which were the key to his life's aim; Ignatius retiring to Manresa to receive his visions. For the most part the foundation period is a time of grace and charism for a new religious community. But there are also crises that must be faced. The crisis of direction forces the community to decide which undertakings are im-portant and which must be sacrificed. The crisis of leadership confronts the community with the problem of finding out how it will live beyond the time of its founding person. The crisis of legitimization engulfs the nascent community in the question of whether or not the Church will approve it as an authentic form of religious life. The Waldensians, for example, showed some signs of becoming a new religious order on the pattern of the mendicants, but they never overcame the crisis of iegitimization. Instead of becoming a religious community, they ended up as renegades who had to hide out in the woods of medieval Europe. The Recovery of Religious Life / 70a 2. The Expansion Period When the community has emerged from the foundation period, it un-dergoes a fairly long period of expansion, during which the founding charism is institutionalized in a variety of ways. A community cult and belief system solidifies, a community polity is fashioned, and community norms and customs take hold. As members of the community's second generation mature and grow older, they recount stories of the foundation, which they have heard from the pioneers or have themselves experienced in their youth. These stories enshrine decisive events which set the community's direction or establish its characteristic traits. Gradually, rituals and symbols which express and com-memorate the most treasured facets of the foundation are fused with the.iore of the older members into a sort of sacred memory and cult that begins to be passed on from generation to generation as the community's "founding myth." Attempts are made at thinking through the founding myth and expressing it in terms of contemporary thought patterns. Eventually these efforts result in theories, interpretations, and social models which coalesce into a belief system and give a rational structure to the more intuitive thrust of the founding myth. Simultaneously, procedures are devised for community decision making and communication, and bit by bit the community's polity.takes shape. Norms are set down and customs emerge which cover all aspects of the community's life, such as membership criteria, leadership standards, and apostolic priorities. The members of the young community experience an excitement about the growth and success which characterizes the expansion period. Large numbers join the community, and new works are rapidly taken on which enhance the possibility of a still broader recruitment. Major interpreters of the founding vi-sion are recognized. Patterns of spiritual practice are determined, and the community's spirituality is made concrete in manuals of direction or other written documents. With expansion come certain organizational crises. How is authority to be delegated? What means will be used to integrate and tie together the rapidly expanding network of establishments and the burgeoning membership. When Bernard joined the Cistercians thirteen years after their foundation, he led the community through this kind of organizational crisis. In the process, a new en-tity, the general chapter, was invented to cope with the situation, and this in-novation is still a standard feature.of most religious orders today. Another crisis of this period centers on maintaining the pristine vigor of the founding vision. As rival interpretations arise, which will be discarded? A classic exam-ple of this kind of crisis occurred in the great debates about poverty among the early Franciscans just after Francis died. 3. The Stabilization Period After a fairly long expansion, which may last two to three generations or "/04 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 longer, there ensues a period of stabilization. Numerical increase in membership may continue, but geographical expansion usually slows down. The stabilization period may last a century or more, but it is sometimes as brief as fifty years or so. A feeling of success pervades the community during the stabilization period. Members experience a high degree of personal satisfaction from simply being in the community. The prevailing image of religious life is clear and accepted. It provides a basis for describing unambiguous social roles for religious. The community is accomplishing its purpose and this purpose is self-evident. The need to improve is not seen as a need to change things but simply to do better what is already being done. Gradually, as stabilization sets in, more and more of the community assumes that religious life has always been the way it is now and that it will always remain so in the future. There is little need to elaborate the understanding of the founding vision or penetrate into it more deeply. It is simply accepted and repeated to new members who join. No one is left in the community who knew the founding person or the first dis-ciples personally. Memory of the founding events takes on the cast of past his(ory that is separate from the present moment. Formation of new members emphasizes their conformity to standard patterns of external behavior that are seen as the best means of cultivating interior commitment. The over-all feeling of success which is so typical of the stabilization period is not illusory. There is in fact a job that is being done and done well by the many generous religious who devote themselves to its accomplishment. The kinds of crises that Crop up during the stabilization period are linked to the other characteristics of the period. The crisis of activism occurs. Members become so absorbed in work that they lose sight of its spiritual and apostolic underpinning. They allow the satisfactions of accomplishment to dis-place a centeredness in Christ. Loss of intensity is another crisis of the stabilization period. Is it possible to maintain the intensity of vision and com-mitment among members, now that the community has become so highly in-stitutionalized? They can often be simply carried along by the sheer inertia of the community's activity and held in place by the pressure of social expecta-tion placed on their role as religious from people in the Church. Another danger stems from the crisis of adaptation. In the midst of success the com-munity is seldom open to adaptation, and any changes that have to be made are fraught with difficulty. Quite often, even the most legitimate changes are rejected, and their proponents are righteously and intolerantly silenced. The failure of later Jesuit missionaries to implement the ideas of Matteo Ricci con-cerning Confucian practices among Chinese Catholics is perhaps a good ex-ample of the sort of resistance to adaptation that can be found during the stabilization period. 4. The Breakdown Period Eventually the seeming immutabilities of the stabilization period start to give, and the religious community enters the breakdown period. The The Recovery of Religious Life / 705 breakdown may be gradual and last a half a century or more, or it may be rapid and run its course in a few decades. In either case, what happens is a dis-mantling of the institutional structures and belief systems that arose in the ex-pansion period and served the community so well during the stabilization period. This collective decline gives rise, in turn, to stress and doubt in the in-dividual members. Initially .a number of persons become dissatisfied with the current state of the community. Perhaps they are simply struck by what they judge to be the silliness of some of the community's customs or procedures. Or they may come to see that the community's life and work are not equipped to handle im-portant new challenges. Unanswered questions about the function and purpose of the community begin to accumulate and start to raise doubts. Levels of in-dividual stress increase slowly at the beginning, but then rise rapidly as doubt spreads to more and more levels of the community's social structure. To handle the growing problems, standard remedies are tied. All that is needed, it seems, is to get back to doing well what has always been done and to renew commitment to the community's mission. However, the usual problem-solving techniques become increasingly ineffective. A sense of crisis grows as community authority and decision-making structures become confused. The community's belief system begins to appear archaic and bound in by the trap-pings and articulations of a bygone age. The founding experience and myth, which had been internalized by the community's early generations, is no longer felt by the members. As the community loses its sense of identity and purpose, service to the Church becomes haphazard and lacks direction. Moral norms in the com-munity are relaxed and some members perhaps distract themselves with sex and a misuse of wealth. There is a net loss of membership through increased withdrawals and decreased recruitment of new members. The crises that arise during the breakdown period center on the various phenomena of decline in the community. The crisis of polarization can become acute when those who have faith in the community as it was align themselves against those who in varying degrees reject the community as it is. The crisis of collapsing institutions sets in as the community is forced to stop doing "business as usual" and abandon long-established works. The resulting demoralization leads to the crisis of the community's impending death. What is to be done as the chilling awareness grows in the community that it is inex-orably listing into disintegration on all sides? 5. The Transition Period The breakdown is followed by a period of transition. Three outcomes are possible for religious communities during this period: extinction, minimal sur-vival, or revitalization. Extinction, the first of these outcomes, occurs when all the members of a community either withdraw or die and it simply passes out of existence. This happened, for example, to 76% of all men's religious orders founded before 706 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/5 1500 and to 64% of those founded before 1800. From a historical perspective, then, a reasonable expectation would seem to be that most religious com-munities in the Church today will eventually become extinct. A religious community which does not die out may go into a long period of low-level or minimal survival. If the membership pattern of presently existing religious orders founded before the French Revolution is examined, one finds that most of them enter into a period lasting across several centuries in which the number of members is very low. In fact, only 5% of all men's orders founded before 1500 and only 11% of the orders founded before 1800 have a current membership which is larger than 2,000. The Minims (Figure 1) are typical of the orders which once were quite large and now have a small membership. This type of outcome should not be interpreted as a dis-appearance of vitality in every case. The Carthusians, for example, follow this membership pattern. Yet they seem to be living UP to their reputation of never having relaxed their observance--never reformed and never needing reform. To this day the order's spiritual impact appears greater than its numerical strength. There is also a small percentage of religious communities which survive the breakdown period a~d enter into a period of revitalization. At least three characteristics can be singled out in all communities which have been revitalized in this way: a transforming response to the signs of the times; a reappropriation of the founding charism; and a profound renewal of the life of prayer, faith, and centeredness in Christ. The time in history fn which revitalization occurs seems to make a difference. If the revitalization occurs during one of the shifts in the dominant image of religious life singled out in the historical model above, the com-munity takes on many of the characteristics of the emerging image, and the transforming response to the signs of the times seems central to the revitaliza-tion. If the revitalization occurs midway during one of the major eras in the history of religious life identified earlier in this article, the revitalization takes on the characteristics of a reform with the reappropriation of the founding charism playing a central role. In either case the community experiences the revitalization as a second foundation. Personal transformation or conversion is central to revitalization. With personal transformation comes innovative insight and a new centering in the person of Christ. The innovative insight allows the transformed individuals within the community to develop critical awareness of the assumptions un-derlying the traditional meaning of the community and functioning of that community within the Church and the world. This innovative insight brings with it a focusing of energies through a new positive vision of what the com-munity should be in the future. The vision allows the emergence of a new theory which gives meaning to the experiences of individuals and the shared events lived within the community and spurs the community to building and creating its future. Such a new theory guides the community in the search for The Recovery of Religious Life / 707 and the invention of new models ~of living together as a community bound by. the evangelical conditions of discipleship in the service of the Church. A more complete sketch of the human dynamics of revitalization will be given in the last section of this article. The essential components of this dynamic, namely, insight and vision, and new theory and new models, are mentioned at this point to complete the picture of the life cycle of a religious community. Some limitations of this sociological model and the historical model of the previous section are given in the next section together with some generalizations that can be drawn from the models. IV. Some Limitations and Generalizations A. Limitations of the Models Before proceeding, some concluding and cautionary remarks must be made. Evidently the rapid overview of the history of religious life given in the first portion of this article should not be taken as anything more than a demonstration of how the evolution of religious life can be interpreted so as to fit the model of the five main eras that are being postulated in the proposed historical model. The account is far too compressed and over-simplified to provide an adequate and proi~erly nuanced telling of the story of religious life. For example, little attention was given to the Canons Regular, who constituted a significant portion of men religious from the Middle Ages to the French Revolution. There was no discussion of the medieval military orders nor of Orthodox monasticism. A still more gaping lacuna is the almost complete absence of any analysis of the way women's religious life differed from or followed the same pattern as that of the men. It may be that the sources used in this study were not sensitive to the distinctive role women actually played in the evolution of religious life. On the other hand, it may be that up to the present time the trends of women's religious life have been very parallel to those in the men's orders. The models proposed for the evolution of religious life and for the life-cycle of a religious community are also both simplifications. Some might validly question, for example, whether there were just five major eras in the history of religious life and whether the transitions between the eras occurred as clearly as the historical model suggests. The description of the dominant image of religious life for each era is a simplification of what was in every case a rather complex phenomenon. Hopefully, the liberties that have been taken are justified by the intention of trying to synopsize the history of religious life in such a way as to make some tentative insights more easily accessible to someone who is not a professional historian. Similarly, the breaks between the successive periods in the life cycle of a religious community are nowhere near as clear-cut as the proposed sociological model suggests. In .history, breakdowns sometimes occur within one order in different geographical locales at different times. Revitalizations often occur in some places for an order, while it decays elsewhere. At times 708 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 there are orders in which the role of the founding person is rather minor and does not have the decisiveness described in the model. Some communities have been founded in rather modest historical circumstances that were not accom-panied by the profound inspiration described in the model. These and similar qualifications must be kept in mind when the sociological model is used to in-terpret the life cycle of any particular community. B. Generalizations The models presented in the previous sections suggest some generalized conclusions. These conclusions can be helpful in exploring the present crisis of religious life. The historical evidence suggests that there have been significant shifts in the dominant image of religious life across the centuries. These shifts seem to occur when there are major societal changes astir and when the Church is un-dergoing major changes. The first transition happened as the Roman Empire fell in the West and feudal Europe was beginning; at the same time the rift between western and eastern Christianity was starting. The second transition occurred as feudal Europe was giving way to medieval urbanization and as the Church was gathering all of Europe into the unity of Christendom. The third transition took place at the start of the modern period of Western Civilization as the Church underwent the shock of the Reformation. The fourth transition resulted from a direct attack of society on the Church as a whole and on religious life in particular. Admittedly each of these changes in the culture and the Church differed from one another in many respects. However, the pattern seems clear enough at least to permit one to ask whether perhaps another shift in the dominant image of religious life would happen if major changes in society and the Church should come to pass. Although religious communities have been founded in almost every cen-tury of Christian history, it seems that each major shift in the dominant image of religious life is heralded by some significantly new foundations which em-body a new image in an especially striking way. This could be said of the earliest Benedictine monasteries for the first transition, of the Franciscans and Dominicans for the second transition, of the Jesuits for the third transition, and of the plethora of 19th century foundations for the fourth transition. It also seems to be the case that many communities go out of existence at each transition. Those that survive either continue in a diminished form or somehow blend the new dominant image with the charism of their own foun-dation to get another lease on life. The mendicant orders, for example, grew numerically stronger during the Era of Apostolic Orders as they adapted their own special gifts to the new style of religious life. The culture of the high Mid-dle Ages was rapidly and irretrievably passing away, but the mendicants adapted and flourished. One might ask, then, if the Church would witness the death of many religious communities and the foundation of new and different ones if a shift in the dominant image of religious life were to occur. The remainder of this article will explore the plausibility of maintaining that The Recovery of Religious Life / 709 another major transition has in fact begun in the history of religious life. Should this hypothesis be true, it would be appropriate to pose questions about h6w religious life is dying and how a recovery and revitalization might happen. Another observation that suggests itself from this brief survey concerns the continuity that underlies the shifts of the dominant image of religious life. As the image evolves it continues to hold up the impelling ideal of a radical following of the conditions set forth by Christ for an evangelical discipleship embedded in a life of prayer and deep faith. While the contemporary religious would probably not feel called to take on the externals of the life of the Desert Fathers, he or she will surely understand and be drawn to the stark beauty of the life of radical discipleship that moved Anthony to withdraw into the desert. Similar remarks could probably be made about the ultimate aims of the first Franciscans and the first rugged band of Jesuits. Through all the twists and turns in the make up and style of religious life, there is a deep core of seeking union with Christ in a special and total way that endures century after century. A great deal of historical precedent would have to be explained away by anyone who would wish to maintain that religious life is about to disappear as a separate and distinguishable way of life in the Church. The historical pattern seems to be one of repeated recovery. The present moment is indeed a time of trouble for religious communities, but religious life as a whole will doubtlessly survive. Turning to the sociological model, some further generalizations can be made. In the evolution of a religious community the non-rational elements of transforming experience, vision, and myth play a central role. This is es-pecially true during the periods of foundation and revitalization. Although necessary for each period in the life-cycle of a community, the techniques of rationality (long-range planning, leadership training, etc.) will never be suf-ficient to found a religious community or to revitalize one. The renewed vitality that comes to some religious communities during the time of transition finds its source in plumbing the depths of.the mythic and non-rational and in-tegrating them with the more rational dimensions of human life. A central insight of the myth of original sin is that humankind is not capable of sustained development; breakdown and disintegration are ever-recurring manifestations of the human condition. Since religious men and women exist within the human condition, it should not be surprising that, from time to time, all religious communities experience an extensive period of significant breakdown and disintegration. These bleak realities should be em-braced with humble acceptance of th~ human condition and a faith-filled hope that the Lord will in time resurrect life-giving initiatives from the death-dealing processes of breakdown. V. Where Does Religious Life Stand Today? In the previous sections of this article, the history of the religious-life movement in the Church and of particular religious communities was ex-amined to determine the major factors within culture, the Church, and 710 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/5 religious communities themselves that significantly influence the evolution of this movement. Generalizations from the proposed models indicate that major. transitions are likely to occur in religious life when secular culture is in the midst of a major crisis, and when religious life has experienced a period of major breakdown. The factors can serve as a useful matrix for answering the question, "Where does religious life stand today?" As was mentioned in the in-troduction, the answer proposed in this article is that religious life is undergo-ing a pervasive transition that will last for the next twenty to twenty-five years and which will significantly change the style of life and service of religious communities. The plausibility of this assertion is developed in this section. A. Signs of Transition in Secular Culture Many writers have noted that contemporary culture is in the midst of a societal transition. Some compare the present time to the Renaissance. Others claim that the present multifaceted change is equal to if not greater in magnitude than the agricultural and industrial revolutions. Many strands of societal transition have been pointed out. Spiritual, intellectual, philosophical, psychological, political, economic, and many other crises in society have been described by writers from a wide range of disciplines. For the purposes of this article, a cluster of these difficulties, which might be broadly termed the socio-economic crisis, will be summarized below as a sample of the sort of comment on contemporary society being made today. Catastrophic events and critical trends are continually reported by the news media. These reports range from widespread famine in the Sahel and South Asia to the continued downward spiral of the national economy. Careful analysts and writers have noted that these events and trends are a manifestation of the parallel growth of a set of interrelated critical issues which they have designated as the "world problematique.''7 A list of the critical issues that make up the "world problematique" would include: Energy Problems: Runaway growth in domestic and worldwide use of energy; shortages and scarcity of energy; insufficient capital resources to develop new energy sources. Food Problems: Food supply unable to meet the demand for food; worsening of weather conditions through pollution; increasing food prices due to food scarcity and increasing cost and consumption of energy; deterioration of arable land through increased urbaniza-tion and ecological undermining; actual widespread famine; potential long term problems of hunger and famine. Pollution Problems: Rise of pollution-induced illness; exponential increhse in the pollu-tion of the air and seas; denuding of natural environment through strip mining. 7.Some sources used to examine the "world problematique" were Kenneth E. F. Watt, The Titanic Effect: Planning for the Unthinkable (Stanford, Conn.: Sinauer Associates, Inc.); Donella H. Meadows, et al., The Limits to Growth (Washington: Potomac Associates, 1972); Mihajlo Mesarovic and Eduard Pestel, Mankind at the Turning Point (New York: Reader's Digest Press, 1974); Lester R. Brown, In the Human Interest (New York: W. W. Norton, 1974); and Lester R. Brown with Eric P. Eckholm, By Bread Alone (New York: Praeger, 1974). The Recovery of Religious Life / 711 Economic Problems: Growing world inflation; market saturation (e.g. airplanes, elec-tronic equipment, automobiles); instability and manipulation of monetary system, lack of alternatives to growth economics; increasing gap between the "have's" and the "have not's." Work Problems: Increasing unemployment and underemployment; saturation of the labor market; decreased productivity; increasing alienation and dissatisfaction with work; depersonalization of work environments. Problems of Urban Areas: Deterioration of urban areas; increasing crime rates; in-creasing cost of essential urban services. Problems of International Order." Hazards of international competition and war; com-petitive economic policies. What makes the "world problematique" different from problems en-countered in previous eras is its complexity and the pervasive interrelationship of its elements. Hence, the "world problematique" is not amenable to normal methods of problem solving. Attempts to address such critical issues in a singular or joint fashion introduce fundamental dilemmas that do not appear resolvable within conventional modes of thought. Among such dilemmas which seem to be plaguing the contemporary politico-economic situation, four might be singled out: the dilemmas of growth, guidance, global justice, and social roles.8 These dilemmas are delineated more fully in Table 6. One may ask if these problems and dilemmas have not been present during most of the Industrial Era. Are not the problems of the 20's and 30's very much the same as those of the 70's and 80's? What makes the above mentioned problems and dilemmas different is that they have not been ameliorated through the use of conventional wisdom and standard problem-solving ap-proaches. In fact, one may argue that application of these approaches has led to many unanticipated and undesirable consequences. Resolution of the problems and dilemmas is dependent upon a thorough-going shift in social perceptions, involving restructuring of beliefs, images, and human aspirations at a fundamental level. B. Crisis in the Church and the Breakdown in Religious Life The Catholic Church in America has been profoundly influenced by con-temporary change. For at least fifteen years the Church has been experiencing a transition of its life. The Second Vatican Council (1962-1964) was a result of the early stages of this transition and a triggering event for its later stages. The Church began to open itself to a world which was undergoing a dramatic secularization. This opening up or aggiornamento had significant impact on all dimensions of Church life. Parish life and parochial education are no longer the only shapers of the values and beliefs of American Catholics. The once-clear norms and social roles ~vithin the Church no longer seem to serve their original purpose. For example, the Vatican's official position on birth 8The schematization presented in Table 6 is based on the work of Bill Harmon, Director of the Center for the Study of Social Policy, Stanford Research Institute. 712 / Review for Religious, I~'olume 34, 1975/5 TABLE 6: SOME DILEMMAS OF CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY Growth The fundamental "new scarcity" of fossil fuels, minerals, fresh water, arable land, habitable surface area, waste-absorbing capacity of the natural environment, fresh air, and food come from approaching the finite limits of the earth. These limits demand a radical slow down or leveling off in material.growth and energy-use curves of the past.' Yet, the present economic and political system is built around a growth hypothesis. The economic and political consequences of limiting growth appear unbearable. Guidance Dilemma Ecological considerations along with awesome power of modern technology to change any and all aspects of the human environment establish a mandate for greater guidance of technological and social innovation. Yet, the political price of such guidance is very high. Such guidance is perceived as con-trary to man's fundamental right to freedom and as an inhibition to economic growth. Global Justice Dilemma Further advances by the industrialized nations make the rich nations richer and the poor nations relatively poorer. The impressive ac-complishments of the industrial economy are largely built on a base of cleverness plus cheap energy, the latter from the world's limited stockpile of fossil fuels. Yet, the costs of not redressing these inequities may be serious political and economic world instabilities as well as widespread famine and inhuman suffering in the poorer nations. Social Roles Dilemma Present economic system is failing to provide Yet, the absence of satisfying and personally an adequate number of satisfying social roles meaningful roles for women, youth, the especially for women and minorities. The aged, and minorities along with worker employment market is saturated; there is a dissatisfaction in general results in in-need to keep youth and the aged out of the creased I~ersonal alienation and erodes labor market, the morale of the nation. control is considered unacceptableto an increasingly large number of Catholics. Difficulties are arising in the functioning of such Church structures as the priesthood and the traditional role of the laity and of such Church institutions as parishes, schoo|s, and hospitals. Their once-unquestioned role within the Church no longer seems to satisfy the needs of an increasingly large number of church members. This crisis and transition within the Church has had a dramatic effect on religious communities of women and men. Religious communities have begun to experience all of the signs of entering into the breakdown and disintegration period described earlier in this article. There has been a sharp decline in membership due to increased withdrawals and a decrease in new recruits. Re- The Recovery of Religious Life / 713 cent literature9 gives a statistical picture of this breakdown in the United States. - A recent National Opinion Research Center study indicated there is a larger relative number of resignees among those already established in church careers than in any other equivalent period of time since the French Revolution. - For the years between 1965 and 1972 66% of the yearly decrease in communities of religious women was due to dispensation or termination of vows. In communities of religious women the average annual net increase over these years was approximately 768 members, the average annual net decrease was 3841, with only one-third of that loss caused by deaths. - The total number of Sisters in 1974 had declined 17% from 1960 and 23% since their peak membership year in 1966. - The total number of religious Brothers in 1974 had decreased 12% since 1960 and 26.5% since their peak membership year in 1966. The purposes of religious communities which were once clear and widely understood have become vague and meaningless to some in the midst of the modern church crisis. The structures of authority and process of communica-tion and decision making within religious communities seem no longer to fit the needs of the individuals within the community or suit the evolving work of the communities. The processes of formation to religious community have sometimes become disorganized and seem to lack purpose. These and other signs indicate that the last fifteen to twenty years have been a time when most religious com-munities have begun to experience breakdown. This cluster of the signs of breakdown in virtually all communities seems to indicate that we are ap-proaching the end of another major era in the history of religious life. C. Restatement of the Bias This review of the transitions in secular culture as well as the current crisis of the Church allows us to use the historical and sociological models of the evolution of religious life and religious communities outlined in the previous sections to answer the question "Where does religious life stand today?" In the introduction of this article, an answer was given in what was called the fun-damental bias of the article, namely, that religious life in America is undergo-ing a profound transition, which will take another twenty or twenty-five years to run its full course. The arguments leading up to this bias can be set forth as follows: 1. The dominant image of religious life has undergone several major tran-sitions as religious life has evolved as a movement within the Church. 2. The occurrence of these major transitions is associated with a number 9Carroll W. Trageson and Pat Holden, "Existence and Analysis of the 'Vocation Crisis' in Religious Careers," (pp. 1-3) in Carroll W. Trageson, John P. Koval, and Willis E. Bartlett (eds.), Report on Study of Church Vo

Issue 56.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1997. ; for relig i ou s Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the joumml are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Lonis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: I:OPI~ EMA@SLUVCA.SI~U. E DU Manuscripts, books for review, aud correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDouough 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 ,nailing offices. See inside back cover for iuformation on subscription rates. ©1997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an), material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal t, se of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear uotice 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 o,aly be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisoty Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages.and Contemporary Living JA~NUARY-FEBRUARY 1997 ¯ VOLUME 56 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents living the consecrated life ~ 6 The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? Nadine Foley OP highlights the living tradition of consecrated life evidenced in the phrase "consecration for mission" and its development in Vita consecrata. The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life Brian J. Pierce oP comments on his post-Vatican II experience of contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor. Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Edward van Merrienboer OP describes five types of members seeking permission to leave and the behaviors that led to their petitions. growing as christians 37 Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Hilary Ot~ensmeyer OSB proposes a dynamic based on the framework of the four seasons for Christian groups to reach new levels of sharing. Inner Work with You~ Anger 'Paul Duckro, Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ present the potential of a contemplative or meditational encounter with anger, so linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. On Letting Go Denise M. Callaghan SSND reflects on the pervasiveness of a "letting go" in the continuing call of God to us as individuals and as a community. Review for Religious 59 loving as celibates Nuptial Love and Discerning Celibacy's Call Daniel J. Trapp examines the specific call to celibacy as a spousal response to Christ's love. Consecrated Celibacy as Means, Peril, and Delight Melannie Svoboda SND describes a few aspects of the religious experience of consecrated celibacy which is rooted in the unfathomable mystery of God's radical-mad love. 72 finding God Mystical Moments in Daily Life Matthias Neuman OSB calls attention to the mystical moments that reveal a transcendent mysteriousness and often a holy . presence which are a part of our ordinary faith experience. Silence Donald Macdonald SMM points the ways in which silence helps us perceive the priceless gift of a Spirit-filled world. Jesus, Power, and the ONE Edmundo Rodriguez SJ presents a way of understanding how action on behalf of justice is sanctioned by the life and teaching of Jesus. departments Prisms ~.,~ /~o ~ ~-,~, ~-Jf~o,o- Canonical Counsel: Diocesan Institutes and Pontifical Institutes Book Reviews January-February 1997 prisms Jesus is the focus of this year's celebra-tions preparatory to the coming third millennium. In John Paul's apostolic letter "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," the thematic structure of the three-year period 1997- 1999 is Trinitarian. Since the distinctly Christological char-acter of the jubilee is a primary emphasis, the first year, 1997, is devoted to "reflection on Christ, the Word of God, made man by the power of the Holy Spirit" (40). National conferences of bishops, local dioceses and individual parishes, religious congregational provinces, and other church organizations have proposed various ways of entering into this reflection on Christ: Some helpful study aids, reflection guides, and discussion outlines are available. Programs and conferences, gatherings among various Christian churches, and especially prayer services are planned throughout .the year. We all are called to become a part of this movement-- like a three-year-long Advent preparation--to celebrate our Christian jubilee. The challenge for each of us is accept-ing our responsibility "to know Christ Jesus" and acting on it. Knowing Jesus was a constant theme of St. Paul's writ-ings to the young churches. It is the theme reemphasized in our preparation for celebrating the millennium. How do we come to know Jesus? Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John each give us a way of knowing Jesus. Every Gospel account became a composite reflection of the stories told about Jesus within an evange-list's particular community. Details and settings of the same stories differ from Gospel account to Gospel account, and it does not matter. Each way of telling the story is true in its Review for Religious ability to give us an entrance into knowing Jesus. At one moment in our lives, through the Gospel of Mark we may find ourselves impressed by the immediate sense of Jesus' activism, the uncluttered quality of his speech, the directness of his affective response. At another time we appreciate the Jesus of Luke's Gospel, who appears so much the person of prayer, compassion, and lively joy. Sometimes the longer wisdom stories of John's Gospel and the image-identity language of being bread, life, light, vine, shepherd, gate, or para-clete call us to pe~r deep into our well of meditation. Over and over as we move through the Gospels, we find ourselves always com-ing to know Jesus~ Perhaps, taking our cue from St. Paul, we might discover anew the insight especially applicable to our millennium preparation. Necessary and helpful as the Gospel accounts are for our knowing Jesus, only in entering into our own experience will we find the Jesus who calls us by name, knocks at the door of our heart, and persists in bringing about the fullness of the reign ofGod. St. Paul was marked forever by his experience of One saying to him, "It is Jesus of Nazareth whom you are persecuting." For Paul there was no confusion of James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia with Jesus. But Paul realized that, in his dealings with James and Joseph and Julia and Claudia, he was also dealing with Jesus and coming to know him more, Paul came to know Jesus the more he preached and the. more he worked with all the people in his churches and the more he prayed. What Paul focuses for each of us is the Jesus in front of us, the Jesus whose coming we await by the way we live and minis-ter now. Jesus in his total gift of living and dying and Jesus in his sure promise of coming is always being made present to us in the Eucharist and so in his Body, the church. We experience Jesus. Experiencing Jesus is more than studying Christology or gospel reading. Experiencing Jesus is more than serving a, soup line or demonstrating for peace. Experiencing Jesus is knowing Jesus in the way that Paul exhorts his churches to know Jesus and to let themselves be seen as models of imitation because of that knowl-edge. The demand for people who know Jesus in this way has never been so clearly expressed as it is in the pope's apostolic letter. In John's Gospel, the story is told of some Greeks who came forward to Philip, making the request "We want to see Jesus." How will we, with the question coming both from within us and from with-out, respond this year to that request? David L. Fleming SJ ~anuary-FebtwaO, 1997 living the consecrated life NADINE FOLEY The Ambiguity of Religious Life: Does It Evolve? A number of years ago, in one of those seemingly endless discussions about the character of religious life that flour-ished among women religious after Vatican Council II, I remember making a reference to the evolution of reli-gious life. Within my hearing a canonist vehemently snapped out an objection. "Her response startled me; I could not see a reason for her agitated insistence. Was it the word evolution? The word seemed appropriate to me as a member of a religious congregation of women whose founders, responding to needs of the mid-1800s, emerged from their cloistered life in Regensburg, Germany, and ,.met the challenges of ministry in their new home in America. The move was not merely geographical. It entailed considerable adaptation of their lifestyle, their sense of mission, and ultimately their self-identity as a religious congregation of women. Their revered daily reg-imen of discipline and prayer as Second Order Dominican nuns was not immediately adaptable to what they were to undertake in a new and strange world. In due time they made the wrenching decision to become conventual Third Order Dominicans, an available alternative within Dominican structures. Was this development some kind of evolution? Nadine Foley OP, a former president of the Leadership Council of Women Religious (LCWR), is professor of religious studies at Siena Heights College and is historian for the Adrian Dominican Sisters. She can be addressed at 1257 East Siena Heights Drive; Adrian, Michigan 49221. Review for Religious Other institutes of women religious, founded directly for active apostolic or ministerial life, came sooner or later to share much similarity with active institutes such as mine that have their ¯ historical roots in the cloistered contemplative life. For both of these groups, there were expectations of meeting the obligations that had pertained to contemplative life: separation from the world, limited contact with the laity, conformity in dress and often in demeanor, a set horarium of prayer and liturgical observance, and disciplinary practices of silence, self-abnegation, and obedi-ence. Many of these were unique to women religious and not shared by their male counterparts. But changes were occurring in women's religious life without the appropriate "infrastructure" to support it. Modifications were made--dropping night vigils and prayers, from the daily horarium, omitting face veils from the prescribed dress, and the like--but tensions often existed, whether acknowledged or not. The model for the religious life of women remained that of the enclosure. The 1917 Code of Canon Law, welcome in many respects, more or :less fixed the ambiguity canonically in the sense that its architects--and, no doubt, members of religious institutes as well--did not have a clear perception that something new was emerging in religious life and might require a new look at the canonical legislation. In the 1930s and 1940s religious congrega-tions hastened .to write new constitutions in conformity with the Code while at the same time many made formal application for the status of pontifical institute. The all-consuming preoccupation for women religious (and many men religious as well) was with developing the entire spectrum of Catholic education and health-care to meet the needs of a burgeoning Catholic population. The effort required education of the members in all of the relevant fields of specialization to meet the standards of accrediting agen-cies. Meanwhile, imperceptible to the outside observer and even to many within religious life, a ferment of dissatisfaction and dis-affection was gradually spreading. The competencies developed by religious in the many secular fields required for their professional ministries had the additional effect of providing them with criti-cal tools of analysis that they began to apply to their own per-sonal development and their social organization as religious institutes. Then came Vatican Council II. By this time the institutes of women's religious life were ready for the directives from Rome ffanuary-Febrttaty 1997 that followed it: Hold a general chapter of renewal within three years, consult all the members in preparation, and enter into a period of experimentation where it seems advisable. A further communication, directing the institutes to write new constitu-tions and statutes, called for a thorough review of the original inspirations of the founders. No one could have predicted the impact of what followed, particularly when the institutes devel-oped internal processes for consulting all the members. Their reflections and consultations brought to the fore a wealth of expe-rience that hitherto had not been factored into general-chapter decisions about the congregations' agendas. The questions and the solutions were wide ranging and radical in the very good sense of reaching to the roots of religious life and its very identity. Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new con-stitutions. The documents produced were perhaps the first to reflect the character of women's active, or ministerial, ~eligious life. Mining the rich tradition~ in the original inspirations of reli-gious institutes led to a breadth in understanding ministry, not so much as specific works, but as response to the needs of people in our times. 'But a parallel effort was in progress at the same time: the reform of the Code of Canon Law. While religious worldwide submitted data for the section on religious life, their work on constitutions proceeded without benefit of knowing how the canonical revisions were progressing. In the final analysis, while some strides were made, religious were unable to find in the revised canons support for some of the new approaches--to traditional values of governance, community, ministry, the vows-- that had already been duly incorporated into their constitutions and statutes. As one who participated in the process of gaining approval of new constitutions through conversations with members of the Vatican Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL, a recent name change that requires its own exegesis), I had a privileged vantage point from which to examine the notion that religious life does not evolve. While processes had been devised whereby entire congregations participated in developing new constitutions (documents that for the first time accurately reflect our sense of identity as ministerial congregations of women religious), it became quite clear that we were expected ,to fit into a Procrustean bed of fixed categories. Review for Religious The suggestion, once heard, that we could save ourselves a lot of trouble if we just settled upon calling ourselves "secular insti-tutes" epitomized the problem. We did not fit many canonical expectations of "consecrated life," but at the same time we found no comfort in being labeled secular institutes. ("Institutes of apos-tolic life," founded specifically for traditional "missionary" activ-ity in "foreign" lands, continues to be a unique category.) It is against this background that I read the postsynodal apos-tolic exhortation Vita consecrata. Many things can be said about this document, some positive and some nega-tive. (I will not dwell here on the persis-tence of noninclusive language.) But I take encouragement in the inference I draw from it that there is basis here for the idea that religious life can in fact evolve--or at leastodevelop, if that is a more acceptable word. I draw this conclusion as I move from chapter 2 to chapter 3 and find a distinct theological shift from a transcendent view of religioils life to what I will call an incar-national one. The shift is particularly evi-dent in the treatment of consecration, no longer wholly identified with the vows, but associated with mission in the phrase "con-secration for mission." While the theological reorientation is not consistent throughout, the theme is pervasive enough to be noted as a significant change. Two themes that are present throughout 'the exhortation are consecration and eschatology. The manner of their treatment illus-trates, the shifting theology. In chapter 1 the organizing biblical text is Matthew's account of the transfiguration, described as "a decisive moment in the ministry of Jesus" (§ 15, italics in the original here and elsewhere). While the document presents this experi-ence of Peter, James, and John as constantly relived by the whole church, a people on its way to the eschatological encounter with its Lord, it has particular meaning for those called to the conse-crated life. For, we read, Peter's words "Lord, how good it is to be here! . eloquently express the radical nature of the vocation to the consecrated life." The. ecstasy and the mystery of the trans-figuration lead to the evangelical counsels as "a specific acceptance of the mystery of Christ, lived within the Church" (§16). Thus reli- Reexamining origins and reflection upon a century and a half of experience in ministry were critical in formulating new constitutions. Januaty-February 1997 gious consecration is linked to the eschatological realization of the reign of God to come. Applying this interpretation to the three basic vocations within the church, the text reads: "The laity, by virtue of the secular character of their vocation, reflect the mystery of the Incarnate Word particularly insofar as he is the Alpha and the Omega of the world, the foundation and measure of the value of all created things. Sacred ministers, for their part, are 'living images of Christ the Head and Shepherd who guides his people during this time of 'already and not yet,' as they await his coming in glory. It is the duty of the consecrated life to show that the Incarnate Son of God is the eschatological goal towards which all things tend, the splendor before which every other light pales, and the infinite beauty which alone can fully satisfy the human heart" (§16). The three vocations here do not reflect the division of the church into episcopacy, clergy, and laity found in Vatican II's Lumen gentium, an outline that, by including nonclerical religious only invisibly among the laity, seems to drop them from the church (see LG §§31 and 43). While harking back to the "objective superiority of the conse-crated life" (§§18 and 32), a notion seemingly abandoned after Vatican II, chapter 1 acknowledges that religious life, in addition to its eschatological witness, is also "a particularly profound and fruitful way of sharing in Christ's mission, in imitation of the exam-ple of Mary of Nazareth, the first disciple" (§18). The "sacred bond of chastity for the sake of the kingdom of God" is singled out as the first and essential evangelical counsel. A further expansion to all the church's members' manifesting the one mystery of Christ is contained in the statement (here retranslated from the Latin) that, "as their specific but not exclusive characteristics, the lay faithful have activity in the world, the clergy have ministry, and consecrated men and women have special conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient.''l This assertion occurs in the discus-sion of baptism and confirmation's conferral of a consecration that is common to all members of the people of God (§31). Erroneously but understandably, "ministry" in the official English translation of this sentence is sometimes taken to be the exclusive responsibility of the clergy, and special conformity to Christ in chastity, poverty, and obedience an exclusive character-istic of consecrated men and women. The qualifier "but not exclu-sively" seems to be attached only to the specific characteristic of the laity ("activity in the world") when in fact it pertains to the Review for Religious specific characteristics of the other two groups as well. Just as the laity and the clergy are not to repudiate the importance of their own "conformity to Christ chaste, poor, and obedient," neither priests nor (at least during the last several hundred years) women and men religious have been excluded from activity "in the world" along.with the laity. This is "missionary" activity, understood in the fundamental sense of their having been baptized into mission. It is just possible that collectively reli-gious have been quite as involved in ministry in the world as the laity have been, and no doubt proportionately more so until the recent past. Further reflection upon these three distinct-- but also overlapping (officially in this document and manifestly in historical praxis)--categories of baptized people seems to suggest that such separation of roles among the people of God no longer serves, If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. The term is today widely applied to many kinds of ser-vice as forms of diakonia, an essential component of mission, along with kerygma and koinonia--preaching and community. Perhaps in this connection we could profit from an expanded exploration of the meaning of the priesthood of all of the faithful. In various ways it is being exercised, but without the kind of theological reflec~ tion that would help us understand who we are as a total priestly people of God addressing the many aberrations in faith and morals that surround us in our global society today~ For many of us the subhead "Consecrated for mission" that appears at the beginning of chapter 3 leaps off the page as a sign of theological breakthrough. It encapsulates the case that I tried to"make for this concept in.my 1989. LCWR presidential address (see Origins 19, no. 13 [31 August 1989]: 209-214). At that time the idea abroad here and there that some r.eligious had opted for consecration and others for mission seemed dangerously divisive. The dichotomy became a defining issue for reflecting upon who and what women religious uniquely had become. We were and If all the people of God are baptized into mission, and bear a responsibility for it, saving the term ministry exclusively for bishops and priests would scarcely be helpful. Janltary-Febrvtmy 1997 are present in the world not merely as a kind of ethereal escha-tological "sign" of the kingdom to come--by reason of the vows we profess, that particular consecration of ours. Rather, we were and are present also as ministerial workers actively advancing the good of people and, thereby, the reign of justice and peace. In this way, too, we are a striking sign of the reign of God--by rea-son of our dedication to the mission of Jesus, consecration in that sense as well. Indeed, as the exhortation at this point says, "The task of devoting themselves wholly to 'mission' is ~,. included in their call . A sense of mission is essential to .every institute, not only those dedicated to the active apostolic life, but also those dedicated to the contemplative life" (§72). In support of this, Luke 4:16~ 19 is cited to emphasize that the Spirit has consecrated Jesus to bring good news to the poor, to captives, to the blind (§82). Consecration for mission places the vows in a new context and suggests that they testify to the evangelical counsels' "profound anthropological significance" (§87). Chastity is presented as a response to "a hedonistic culture which separates sexuality from all objective moral norms, often treating it as a mere diversion and a consumer good and, with the complicity of the means of social communication, justifying a kind of idolatry of the sexual instinct" (§88). Poverty is related to "a materialism which craves possessions, heedless of the needs and sufferings of the weakest, and lacking any concern for the balance of natural resources" (§89). And obe, dience is a response to "those notions of freedom which separate this fundamental human good from its essential relationship to the truth and to moral norms. In effect, the promotion of freedom is a genuine value, closely connected with respect for the human person, But who does not see the aberrant consequences of injus-tice and even violence, in th( life of individuals and of peoples, to which the distorted use of freedom leads?" (§91). These ideas on the vows, incarnational in my view, are more compatible with our experience than the idealized and "transcendental" notions pre-sented in the earlier sections of the document. They are consonant with the serious study we have done on Gaudium et spes and with the implications we have drawn for our identity in mission and the ministries we have undertaken to further the reign of God. These interpretations are welcome in expressing a realistic understand-ing of the vows, one with which we can identify. Whether or not~ religious life evolves is in the end not that sig-nificant a question. What really is at issue is whether or not the Review for Religious church--and the religious life within it--has a living tradition, one that adapts and grows and grafts new things into its old self, for the sake of gospel mission. The experience of women reli-gious over the years reveals that there is a dynamic interior prin-ciple among us that challenges, motivates, energizes, and adapts in our ongoing history. The traditional values of religious life are not cast aside; they are evaluated in new contexts, reinterpreted and reformulated for our mission in the contemporary world. Our communal discernment in these recent years convinces us that this interior principle is the Holy Spirit, to whom we must be faithful. Thus, Vita conseo'ata, Pope John Paul's postsynodal exhor-tation "on the consecrated life and its mission," strikes us as an affirmation of a movement of the Spirit of God that we have rec-ognized in our experience and articulated in our theological reflec-tion. We are happy to find this movement acknowledged in this exhortation. Note i "Licet varia haec genera unum Christi mysterium demonstrent, pro-prietatem peculiarem quamvis non unicam laici prae se ferunt, saecular-itatem nempe, pastores ministeriorum curationem, homines consecrati peculiarem cum Christo virgine paupere oboediente conformationem" (AAS 88, no. 5 [13 May 1996]: 405, §31). Our Lady of the Gifts Bewildered by the gifts: they bring Her son--such treasurest. and still listening For more nightsongs strange spirits sing, Her human love thrusts these apart As not fully human; let him start With just one gift; pressed to her breast For all she has to give: her human heart. Nancy G. Westerfield Janua~y-Februmy 1997 BRIAN PIERCE The Vatican II Generation and Religious Life lhad just celebrated my second birthday when John XXIII _~-went over to a dusty, closed window, threw it open with a smile, and invited the windy spirit of Vatican Council II in to freshen things up a bit. Needless to say, I do not recall the excite-ment of that time. Nor do I remember where I was when the news broke that John F. Kennedy had been shot. Only three at the time, I was probably building a fort in a sandbox somewhere-- totally oblivious to the tears and shock that swept the nation and the world, sending my mother into early labor. I do not even remember my little brother's birth the next morning. My preparation for first Communion was with a group of guitar-playing sisters who taught us a revised version of the Act of Contrition (I never did learn the "0 my God, I am heartily sorry" version that my older brother learned). They taught us, too, thaf it was okay to chew the Communion host before swal-lowing it, something my brother had distinctly been told not to do. To top it all off, none of my philosophy or theology classes as a Dominican were in Latin, and so, every time an older Dominican tosses out a Latin phrase during a dinner conversation, We younger men just roll our eyes and pretend to know what he is saying. Coming from that background, I can honestly say that I love the church and am committed to continue the journey as a Brian J. Pierce oP is a member of a Dominican community whose activ-ity includes lay ministry formation, university ministry, and pastoral accompaniment of persons with AIDS. His address is Frailes Dominicos; Apartado 2608, San Pedro Sula; Honduras, Central America. Review for Religious believer, a disciple of Jesus, and a preacher in the family of St. Dominic. I often get the feeling, though, that some of those who grew up in the pre-Vatican church look at us of the postconciliar generation as second-class Catholics: "Nobody can call himself a real Catholic if he's never attended a forty-hours' devotion," said one of those faithful daily-Mass folks to me one morning. I swallowed and smiled, not daring to confess to him that the young priest who had just "said Holy Mass" was one of those question-able "pseudo-Catholics." A sense of humor and some patient understanding help in those situations in which the distances between the generations seem irreconcilable. Religious Life and Spiritual Development In his recent book Further along the Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck, noted psychiatrist and spiritual guide, has capsulized in simple language the stages of spiritual development that James Fowler and others had mapped out earlier. Peck speaks of four stages: (1) chaotic-antisocial, (2) formal-institutional, (3) skeptic-individual, and (4) mystical-communal. My intention here is not to give an overview of the stages, but instead to comment on my own experience as a religious withi'n the post-Vatican church in light of Peck's categories. I realize that to make sweeping generalizations about faith development, especially on an institutional level, is both preten-tious and dangerous. I do so only as a way of situating us within the present moment so that we can more readily hear the Spirit calling us to growth. All ages of church history have had persons and communities representing each of the four stages. I think, though, that i( is safe to say that the pre-Vatidan church and reli-gious life had become somewhat bogged down in the legalistic uniformity of Peck's stage 2 (formal-institutional). Vatican II opened up the windows and doors of dialogue, both within the church and with the world. This dialogue marked the social and ecclesial environment in which my generation of religious grew up. In our childhood years Catholic liturgy was being transformed (causing its share of confusion, I later learned), and we began singing such hits as "Sons of God, hear his holy word" (inclusive language being still in an embryonic stagg). Renewal brought many new apostolic groups and movements, and there was an Janua~y-Febm,ary 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life overall air of dialogue and experimentation, especially in religious life. Uniformity was out, and modified habits and consensus deci-sion making were coming in. Vatican II's fresh breeze opened up the possibility for many persons and religious communities to move into skeptic-individ-ual faith development, Peck's stage 3. Peck says that, even though this stage is outwardly less "religious," it is in fact more "spiritual.". It is the stage of healthy questioning, conscientious dissent, and the blending of psychology and spirituality. In many ways those first years manifested themselves as an overreaction to the for-malities and legalisms of years past. In a positive sense it was a time of much dialogue and growth. My generation was still too young to be involved in 'the dialogue, but our early religious edu-cation took place in that environment. I remember the lay couple who taught our confirmation class in the early 1970s stressing that for us to be mature Christians we had to learn to make moral decisions with gospel responsibility. A far cry from the Baltimore Catechism of our parents' generation! Now we are in the 1990s and rapidly approaching the new millennium. Again, recognizing the frailty of making any kind of generalization, I think it safe to say that most of us raised in the postconciliar generation and most of the religious communities that went through renewal are still in Peck's stage 3. I do not mean that we have stopped growing or have become stagnant. Quite the contrary. In the American church in general and also among religious, a strong spirit of creative searching, is still preva-lent. At the same time, though, I think that very few religious communities have moved to what Scott Peck calls the mystical-community level. This may be quite natural, given the fact that Vatican II happened only thirty years ago, but my hope is that our generation may have something to offer here. Those of us who were formed in stage-3 parishes and reli-gious communities, complete with guitar Masses and face-to-face "celebrations of reconciliation," never went through the painful birthing process that gave way to the renewal of Vatican II. We are grateful to those who have gifted us with this rich inheritance-- a more mature and liberating life of faith within the community of believers. In many ways we had it easy, and perhaps it is now our .turn to lead the way through the desert. Many of my friends (ages twenty to forty) have left the church for a variety of reasons. Some have gone back to stage-2 Review for Religious Catholicism (usually lured there by disgruntled elders) or have found security in fundamentalist Christian groups. Reactionary Catholic religious congregations and movements and Bible-thumping evangelical churches (sometimes even with a shiny, high-tech faFade) are on the rise. Others of my friends--some of whom experimented with drugs--are trying to get to stage 4 by New Age pseudomysticism. Many young people today have a thirst for religious and mystical experience, and not all of them seek just a quick fix. The large num-ber of young adults (many ex-Catholics) adhering to the rigorous disciplines of Eastern meditation practices is an impor-tant phenomenon of our day. Our gener-ation is willing to sacrifice if we believe it is worthwhile (that is, no blind obedience, please). What, then, is this new journey that calls out to us today? If Our religious com-munities are not opening up the path to a deeper mystical and communal level of faith (Peck's stage 4), how can we respond in creative ways to bring about the needed growth? I am no expert on either faith development or postcon-ciliar religious renewal, nor do I propose to speak on behalf of all the Vatican II'generation. I simply speak out of my fourteen years of experience, prayerful struggle, and reflection as a Dominican. We have been hearing for several years now that religious life is in crisis, and I basically agree with that reading of the signs of the times. Crisis, however, does not have to mean something bad, a negative experience. Crisis can mean growth, a time for matur-ing, Just as past generations of Catholic religious strove to pro-duce new forms of religious life, so must we do today. This is no time to give up or go backward. We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but the "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us: Now it is our generation's time and task to carry the torch. I am aware that much is being written about the renewal and refounding of religious life these days, and in no way do I intend a comprehensive overview of the issues at'stake. I will look at three main topics (contemplative spirituality, community living and sharing, and ministry among the poor) while attempting to We have received a generous and precious inheritance indeed, but "not yet" of God's reign still burns within us. I7- Januao,-Feb~waO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life reflect on them from the perspective of us who were raised beneath the cool shade of Vatican II. Contemplative, Prayerful Living My mother, whbm I consider to be a fairly open and renewed Catholic, still pulls a tattered Stations of the Cross prayer book out of her purse to reflect on before Mass or after Communion. In other words, she still holds on to and receives life from the meditative and devotional practices common before Vatican II. That kind of prayer-book piety does not fill my spiritual needs, but neither does the "my ministry is my prayer" pastoral workaholism that apparently has taken its place, especially among us younger religious. It seems to me that we went from saying prayers (Peck's stage 2) to not saying prayers (stage.3 skepticism) and somewhere along the way began to lose sight of the plain, simple art of just praying. For many of us, the charismatic renewal, with its focus on prayer rather than saying prayers, offered a stepping-stone in our spiritual development, but the emotionalism and fundamental:- ism in the movement caused many to look elsewhere. I am con, vinced now more than ever, after five years of living among the destitute poor of Central America, that being a follower of Jesus necessitates a deep commitment to prayer--and prayer requires time, energy, and creativity. Without a very intentional spiritual life, we run the risk of doing many good things on an ego~ trip rather than out of gospel-based selfless love. As I grow in prayer-ful communion with God, I discover that my loving others is freer, less needy, more liberating. In the past several years, there has been a growing interest in contemplative and centering prayer throughout the country. This is a wonderfully hopeful sign, and in many places it is the laity who are taking the lead in this kind of prayer. It saddens me that I have lived in or visited religious communities where com-mon prayer is either nonexistent (stage-3 individualism, at best) or simply "reciting the breviary" (stage-2 formalism). In order to grow into a communal, stage-4 level of faith, we must learn once again what it means to really pray together. I occasionally spend my annual retreat with a small commu-nity of Benedictine women in Oklahoma. These women gather three times a day for contemplative, sitting meditation, a blend of Review for gelig4ous Catholic contemplative prayer and Eastern meditation practices. The shared silence has been a gift beyond measure for me. In my years of formation, we were enc.ouraged to give time each day to personal or "private" prayer--can Christian prayer ever be "pri-vate"?-- but because of the previous generations' experience of having to spend a half hour together each morning in the chapel for "meditation," we rarely shared silence as a form of prayer. It seems to me that in our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we could profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. Silence binds together and bridges gaps in ways that words sometimes cannot. The liturgical reforms brought in by Vatican II .helped to bring our com-mon prayer back into the real world, but I believe that in many ways our common prayer has become just one more task to complete in the day's busy schedule and thus something that many find uninteresting. Introducing some shared silence into our common prayer can be a way of celebrating sacred time together in a "non-doing" manner. Prayer as a,task to be completed increases the workaholism of the many religious and lay Christians brought up on "do good to your neighbor" faith renewal after Vatican II. Not that we should reverse the renewal, for the recovery of the social-justice dimen-sion of our faith has been one of Vatican II's greatest gifts to the church; but are we perhaps only following our culture's insatiable drive for success and efficiency when we burn ourselves out as gospel do-gooders? A deep spirituality.that combines contem-plative prayer and Sabbath rest not only promotes gospel values, but challenges our consumerist society as well. The renewal of the contemplative dimension of our religious life consequently brings into question the professionalization of our ministerial commitments. I think that the emphasis on solid formation in theology, Scripture, and the social sciences that has come as a result of Vatican II is to be highly lauded, especially for women religious, for whom such opportunities were rare in the preconciliar years. To my mind, this move toward professional- In our day and age, with all its diversity and respect of the individual, we cof~Id profit immensely from a kind of shared prayer of silence. ~anua~y-February 1997 Pierce * The Vatican II G, eneration and Rdi~_ous Life ization, though, has taken away much of the evangelical freedom that marked the early years of our foundations. As professionals we have had to buy into the world of competitive salaries, con-trolled work schedules, tenure-track professorships, and the over-all efficiency mind-set that characterizes the corporate and professional marketplace. Can we honestly cultivate the deeply contemplative prayer life that we entered religious life desiring while yielding too much to that system? Without losing sight of the need to be justly compensated for our ministry, have we not given up some of the freedom to "be with and for God" by trad-ing in our vow of poverty for the corporate model of church life? Have we fallen into'a minimalisrunderstanding of Sabbath (noth-ing more than Sunday Mass) because of the demands of ministry? At a recent day-long conference on Dorothy Day and Thomas Merton--given by Jim Forrest, who knew them both--someone asked what his strongest memory of Dorothy Day was. Jim answered quickly and with no hesitation: "When I think of Dorothy, I think of her on her knees praying. She spent a lot of time in prayer." Imagine that! This dedicated social-justice apos-tle of the United States is remembered as a woman on her knees praying, and for long periods at a time. Stage 4's mystical dimen-sion cannot be integrated into our lives if prayer is just another point on the "things to do" list for the day (after clocking out from work at the social-service agency, of course). Our commu-nal and contemplative prayer must be leaven in the dough of our daily lives. For, when our prayer truly becomes prayer, then our ministry and our lives as a whole will also become prayer. Real Community vs. Corporate Individualism We know it. We say it. We preach it. We write books about it. But do we live it? Do we live real community? The early Christian communities were not sacramental fast-food outlets, nor were they the early predecessor to Motel 6 (key, clean bed, cable TV,, free breakfast, cheap rates). They were brothers and sisters who had made a commitment to each other and to fol-lowing in the footsteps of Jesus of Nazareth. They lived, shared their goods, worshiped, and died with and for one another and the gospel. The beatitudes were their daily bread, and they knew that being a disciple of J.esus was to be their everything, their cross and their deep joy. Jesus was the way, the path by which the com- Review for Religious munity of believers would walk together towards the promised reign of God. Does this sound a bit idealistic? Well, the picture which the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles paint for us probably is a somewhat idealized version of reality. But let us not forget that these pictures appear in our Scriptures precisely because they were the goal towards which the early communities strove. Many ist-century Christians gave their lives to make this dream of com-munal gospel testimony a lived reality. Today we have the same struggles, difficulties, and weaknesses as the early Christians. But can we also claim to share the same goal of offering the world a living witness of the Body of Christ? I think that women and men religious provide coundess exam-ples of Christian witness, but I also think that the communal dimension of gospel living--and consequently of religious life-- has suffered great setbacks since Vatican II. We give ourselves to excellent and creative ministries, but more and more we do them alone. Everyone in the community has a project, and all the pro-jects are nicely organized under a fancy mission statement. We have all made use of the Myers-Briggs and the enneagram to facil-itate our once-a-month interface gatherings (which used to be called community meetings!), but does the world feel the force of our communal witness to the gospel of Christ? In my own Dominican tradition, the example of the first fri-ars in the Americas stands out strongly: a small band of Spaniards on the island of Hispaniola in the early 16th century. Needing to make a response to the atrocities of the conquest and oppression of the island's native inhabitants, and convinced that the atrocities were not the will of God, the community broke with the dominant theology of the day and preached that the Spanish conquerors were living in mortal sin because of their unjust treatment of the Indians. They all signed the community's homily that was preached by Antonio de Montesino, and, as expected, their words brought upon themselves a tidal wave of reactions, one of which was a harsh reprimand from their provincial back in Spain. Listening to the homily that day was young Bartolom~ de las Casas, who years later became the continent's most important defender of the cause of Indian rights. The question that blaringly stands out is whether or not the same words from a single Dominican friar on the island would have had the same dynamic effect on the history of Latin America that the community witness had. I think not. .']anuaty-FebruaD, 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life Today's church has become so individualistic in its focus that one wonders if there is still room for a prophetic witness in com-mon. The "something for everyone" mentality has worked its way into every part of chursh life in our country. Many of our parishes look more like the food malls where thirty or so minirestaurants are squeezed in between J.C. Penney's and Florsheim Shoes. We have become pastoral experts in creating a program for every-one, in itself not a bad outreach mentality; but the lack of focus is something we have to look at seriously. What is the message we are giving about the gospel? How can we celebrate the gains brought on by the council, with its renewal of lay participation in church life, without dispersing our witness in so many directions? I believe we need to step back and ask ourselves the tough ques-tion: Is corporate individualism the same as community? The question becomes even more urgent when we ask it from the point of view of publicly vowed religious life. Are we mir-roring the communal striving of the early Christian communi-ties or the strategic planning model of IBM? Brother David Steindl-Rast~OSB, in his book Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer, uses a wonderful image to describe community living. He com-pares the old model of pre-Vatican corporate uniformity (Peck's formal-institutional) to sardines all lined up in a can--nice and orderly, but all dead. Real community, he says, is more like a school of fish swimming together gracefully'(Peck's mystical-com-munal). I think that we threw away the sardine can in the 1960s and then, liberated and full of life, all swam off in different direc-tions (Peck's skeptic-individual). How can we get back to swim-ming together gracefully in a school without destroying our creativity or drowning our witness in watered-down corporatism? There certainly are no easy answers, but we know deep down the hunger for such a life. Young people want community. Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken fami-lies, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. The thousands of young people who flock to Taiz~ each year in postmodern, de-Christianized Europe must be telling us something. The human heart longs for communion, and the world denies the fulfillment of that longing to more and more people everyday. Many religious women and men are choosing to live alone and work .in their own ministries, often identifying themselves professionally with a group that is not their religious community. Review for Religious We have come to accept this reality as quite normal, but will it continue to attract young people to a life of public, gospel-cen-tered, and vowed living? Real community is an urgent need for us who long to channel our creative energies in healthy ways in a world that sees little value in the commitment of celibate living. Will we find that companionship if we come home to an answer-ing machine full of messages or a "com-munity" room full of brothers or sisters inert before the TV set like the pillars at Stonehenge? Could Acts 2:42-47 give us some hints as to where to continue journeying along the path? References there to the teaching of the apostles, the common life, the breaking of the bread, and prayer point to a community that spent a lot of quality time together. Today we have many meetings run with corporate efficiency, but do we really spend time together (sharing the day's stories during a leisurely evening meal, faith sharing, studying the day's or the week's liturgy texts together, recreating or even taking a day off together--away from the phone and TV-)? The early Christian community's life had a tremendous impact on the local people (2:43). Does ours? Have we ever considered a ministry in which the whole community works as a team (for example, a series of lay formation workshops, time each week in a soup kitchen, regular visits to the AIDS wing of a hospital), giving witness to the value of community through our example? The passage goes on (2:44-45) to the difficult point of sim-ple living and common sharing of goods. It is an area of great challenge for us today. We have adopted the "have credit card, will travel" mentality of mainstream America, some of which, per-haps,, is inevitable. But are we taking these steps with sufficient reflection and caution? Are we willing to defend the truth even when it may not be a popular stance among some of our generous benefactors? Do we tithe from our salaries and communal accounts?.Where does our province or religious congregation invest its money? Do those investments promote social, economic, and ecological justice? Are we content with generic brands of food Many of the people my age and younger are tired of the broken families, broken relationships, and lonely apartment living that have characterized our generation. ffanuaty-February 1997 Pierce ¯ The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life and a simple wardrobe? Do we have a common library, or do we all keep adding personal bookshelves? There are many questions to struggle with, but gospel witness is well worth the struggle. The last two verses of the passage (2:46-47) speak of enthu-siasm, joy, and simple sharing. We glimpse an early community that freely praised God while giving a clear witness to an alter-native, counterculrural way of living. Freedom to be for God and for others was their common ground. They risked martyrdom in order to keep giving their communal witness to the gospel. Theirs is not an easy act to follow, but it sure beats a sardine-can existence or lonely nights at Motel 6. Acompafiamiento, a Way of Walking with the Poor A great gift of Vatican II and these past thirty years has been the church's openness to continuing the dialogue with the world that the council's document on the church, Lumen gentium, high-lighted. The Latin American Church followed up with the prophetic stances taken during the Medellin and Puebla confer-ences of bishops (1968 and 1979). In the United States the pastoral letters on peace and economic justice have been lights .on the path of relating gospel faith to pertinent issues in our world today. We must not underestimate the steps that have been taken since Vatican II. Having said all this, I wish to comment on where I see a weak-ness in our post-Vatican II model of engagement with the world's poor. Not that what is being done is wrong or contrary to the gospel, but in many instances there is, I think, a need to move to a deeper level. Archbishop Oscar Romero, the martyred prophet of El Salvador, popularized during his years as archbishop the term acompa~amiento (accompaniment), a form of walking with the poor that is different from just working with the poor. Acompa~amiento is a way of living more than a way of doing (though, of course, this division in itself is dualistic). Several years ago I heard the noted liberation theologian Gustavo Guti~rrez say that we often reduce the option for the poor to going to the poor neighborhoods and barrios, to the social-service centers and the inner-city schools to work during the day, only to return to our comfortable homes and convents at night. To truly opt for the poor, Guti~rrez said, means to spend the nights withthem as well. In other words, we are called not only Review for Religiotts to do good things for the poor, but to be with them, to walk with them, to live with them, and, if necessary, to die with them. Romero's acompa~amiento could be translated as "sharing bread along the journey." It is different from giving bread to the poor; it is a sharing of life that dissolves the distances that separate us from them. To opt for the poor through acompa~amiento moves beyond all dualisms to make more real the concepts of global commu-nity and people of God. The hospice movement, Habitat for Humanity, L'Arche, and Christian base communities are expres-sions of this new way of being church and community. Each model portrays a community of equals, living and working together for a new world. There is very little corporate mentality present in them. This was the power of Archbishop Romero's witness--an erasing of the distances: the sheep and the shepherd together risk-ing their lives for the kingdom. How can our communities continue to make the transition to more of an acompa~amiento model over the traditional "charity" model (I do not favor the impoverishment of the word charity in contexts like this). I believe that, first of all, we have to set aside the obsession with efficiency and success that our world impresses upon us and complement our doing with an equal emphasis on being with. It is not an easy step. Rather than sending money, clothes, and food to the poor, can we pray, eat, study, recreate, and even live with them? The challenge is at the heart of the Catholic Worker Movement founded by Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin decades ago, and it is the call heralded by St. Paul when he proclaimed that our baptism erases all the divisions between persons, making possible a true community of equals (Ga 3:28). Finally, and perhaps this takes us back to the start, I believe that to truly love the poor as .sisters and brothers requires a con-templative (mystical) heart. To develop the capacity to stand in silence alongside the poo~r and accept the ambiguities of life is to grow into the mystical dimension of our faith. We really are not separate from "the others," but only a contemplative heart can begin to grasp the interconnectedness that holds us all together. If we grow in such contemplativeness, our being with becomes less a heroic act of giving life to .somebody in need and more a happy fulfilling of our potential as children of God: we are uninhibitedly glad of the opportunity to see the kingdom that .Jesus preached radiating from our simple act of "sharing bread along the journey." Januao,-FeblvlaO, 1997 Pierce * The Vatican H Generation and Religious Life I recently learned this lesson anew. A group of university stu-dents and I were scheduled to visit the inmates at the local prison. The students, among whom was Diana, a young crippled woman, met at our house, about ten blocks from the prison. I quietly asked if one of the students would go with her on the bus while the rest of us walked to the prison. Overhearing my request, Diana told me politely that she preferred to walk. I would not hear of it. Angry that no one offered to go with her on the bus, I decided to do it myself. By that point Diana, perceiving herself a burden to ¯ the group, had grabbed her crutches and begun walking home. When she finally had the courage to return to the group two months later, she told me I had made her feel terribly uncom-fortable that day. I had wanted to do something~r Diana. She simply wanted to be part of the group. I had seen her as a problem rather than as a person. Without a heart made flesh by prayerful silence and careful listening, we run the risk--as we go about doing good works to save the world of forgetting that we too are just part of this world already saved by God's love. To step back, to see and lis-ten to God speaking to us through poor people, is not always the quickest, most efficient way to bring about change in the world, but it is God's way. Stepping back, we discover anew each day that we are all part of one body--crippled, broken, healed, and set free. Community and Grace Thirty years after Vatican II, we all still have much to learn. The gospel is new each day and in every generation. However much progress we may have made since, the council, we need some self-critique as we continue the journey. Many people my age are not attracted to a church that differs little from the trap-pings of their everyday job, and the skeptic individualism in reli-gious life does not stand out as an exciting alternative. They can live that way and get paid a pretty good salary for it! Religious life' among the Vatican II generation must continue to offer some kind of critique of the dominant culture if it is to be viable for our times. Some cultural criticism, however, neglects important parts of Jesus' teaching. The post-Vatican II generation of Catholics is nov looking for more moralistic condemnations of modernity. They want a life with deep meaning, a simple life Review for Religious they can share with real people (and not just through their Internet modems!), a life that can help to make our world a bet-ter place without making themselves workaholic basket cases in the process. I believe it is still possible to swim gracefully through the waters of our times, guided not by the uniformity of the past nor the runaway individualism of the present, but by the Spirit of Jesus given to us and quietly moving in us with transforming new-ness and amazing grace. Awakening Golden leaves rustle and swirl Beneath the silver birch tree As sunlight from crisp blue skies Comes to rest on the forest floor. And nature poised on winter's brink Does not die but falls asleep Until it one bright spring morn Awakens to song of birds and brook. How like our lonely restless souls When in their final slumber lie Until aroused one glorious dawn By sweet sounds of an angel's horn. Eva Marie Ippolito Janua~y-Fd.-uaty 1997 F EDWARD VAN MERRIENBOER Of Those Who Leave Us: A Typology Tpe contemporary leader of a religious community is ected to be a person of prayer, with a vision, who can manage finance and who knows the legal aspects of public cor-porate life. Although few people ever fulfill all of these expecta-tions, most leaders do very well at some of them while in office. Many leadership tasks give one a sense of joyful accomplishment; of those that fail to do so, none is more painful, in my experi-ence, than participating in the departure of a member. I was a member of my province's council from 1973 to 1983 and then, until 1992, a member of our general council in Rome. In both the provincial and international contexts, the pain was ever present when a petition for dispensation came in. Impressed by the unique story that each of the many petitions revealed, I began to ask myself what I could learn from them personally and corporately about departure. During my nine years on our general council, I kept a brief list of people's reasons for leaving. My purpose was to learn from these experiences how to help those in leadership. I wanted espe-cially to help the men working in our initial formation programs so that they in turn could help our candidates avoid such painful experiences for themselves and their communities in the future. I share these reflections in that spirit. Edward van Merrienboer OP chairs the Department of Theology and Philosophy at Barry University. From 1983 to 1992 he was assistant gen-eral for the apostolic life of the Dominican order. He has written on reli-gious life, social justice, and spirituality. He can be addressed at Barry University; 11300 Northeast Second Avenue; Miami Shores, Florida 33161. Review for Religious Collating the many stories, I found that about eighty percent of those who left our community from 1983 to 1992 could be gathered into five groups, no matter what part of the world they lived in. My findings, of course, are not scientific conclusions of the sort one expects from an empirical study using a sociological method. Rather, they are reflections made after reading petition after petition regarding departure decisions that had been arrived at by individuals and/or the provincial leadership. I did not speak with the men petitioning for dispensation, nor did I interview their provincial leadership for additional data. My typology is based on what they and their provincial superiors wrote in the petitions. Typologies are models that seldom fit reality perfectly: there is always some overlap among the types. But still the general pat-terns proved helpful when I was making visits to our provinces. These types, from what I have learned from previous members of our general council, represent a change. During the time of Pope Paul VI, most members departed°to enter marriage. Today this is still a reason, but other reason~ have become more dominant. I have shared my findings with members of other general councils. They have found my insights to be valid in their communities and have encouraged me to share them more widely. What follows is a brief description of the five types of mem-bers seeking permission to leave and of the behaviors that led to their petition: the free agents, the must-have-its, the new founders, the loss-of-hopes, and the I'm-better-nows. The Free Agents Most free-agent petitions came from those who entered at the time of the Second Vaticah Council or within ten years after it. My religious community, like most religious communities of that time, was emerging from an era of strict legalism and con-formity. While we never had a fixed mold to force people into, informal ideas of what religious were supposed to be and to do defined almost every aspect of our lives. Perfection would be achieved by going through a "narrow gate," the perfect mechanism for making sure that, of the many called, few would be chosen. After the council, all the rules of our life were examined and revised. Now a wide embrace would replace the narrow way that was so well defined. Pluralism was encouraged in ministry and in 29 January-Feblwal.'~ 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us local community life. Everyone was encouraged to participate in shaping our life and mission.For most of us this new freedom was a blessing because it allowed us to be ourselves and be faith-ful to our community at the same time. While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. This was not the case with the members whom I am calling free agents. They enjoyed the new freedom and saw no limits. For some of them the freedom involved embracing works that were hard to locate within the mission of the institute or within the vowed life. Commonly they found ways to spend community funds while being little concerned about bringing in any money themselves or about the consequences of their expenditures on their community. Because finance is so concrete, much of the ten-sion between free agents and their community is about money. In extreme cases they establish private bank accounts or have funds that are not accountable to the community. Sizable funding is essential to them because it provides the means to express their freedom. Money provides the physical necessities they need to be free from the community's demand for responsible account-ability. Another area of conflict between free agents and their com-munity is their approach to relationships within and outside the community. Some of these relationships become exclusive com-mitments that involve genital expression. Self-direction in ministry becomes essential as part of their freedom agenda. Most are happy with the spirit of freedom that the council mandated; but, when "oppressive" superiors or members begin to challenge their lim-itless freedom, they became unhappy and start to question their vocation. They often say that they woul.d never have come to the point of seeking dispensation from their vows if it had not been for narrow-minded, or legalistic leaders. They do not see the problem of living a lifestyle that is contrary to their public commitment. Long and painful dialogues with their superiors do not enable them to see the points of conflict. Some express their anger at the community for trying to restrict the freedom given to them by the council. Many view the challenges coming to them from their community as statements of distrust. The decision to leave the community is a result of having to choose concretely between their agenda of freedom and certain Review for Relig~ous behaviors their community identifies as essential. It is tragic that often these members leave us without ever understanding that every life option imposes certain limits upon people, that in this regard religious life is no different than any other vocation. The Must-Have-Its Departing members of the second type seek dispensation within a very short time--usually three years or less--after their final profession or ordination. Judging from externals, one won-ders whether these members have really given religious life a fair chance. A common concern expressed by leadership is that these members may be acting in haste. The problems the mem-bers are experiencing could be rooted in the normal adjustment period from initial forma-tion to the wider life of the community. Because of the short time that these mem-bers have been in the community, unless there have been major difficulties previously, most religious superiors give only a very qualified support to their petitions for dispensation. This is understandable from an administrative per-spective, but I think there is an aspect of these members' personality that is perhaps being over-looked. It is this: They cannot come to a decision to leave the religious life or the priesthood until they actually possess these realities. Part of their personality demands that they prove to themselves that they can be a religious before they can decide that they do not want to be one. Some of this feeling is rooted in a need to be clear that they are rejecting the community and not being sent away. Very often I noted that, when during their initial formation they were asked as candidates to question their decision to be a religious, they responded by devoting themselves to becoming a better religious. Even when their simple vow period was extended so that they could look at their vocation, they never questioned their call to religious life. Some indicate that, almost from the day of their final pro-fession or ordination, they began to question if this was for them. They felt that before final profession they really .had not known While limits were less defined, most religious knew that there were limits because of our vowed life. Janua~y-Feb~vla~y 1997 Merrienboer ¯ Of Those Who Leave Us what it would be like; now they knew fully and were not happy. Others fully expected that after final commitment their experience of the life and ministry would change radically. It did not; in some ,cases it even became worse. They were given less attention and were expected to be fully contributing members of the commu-nity- which beEame a major source of frustration. Even in situations where a mentor was assigned to assist them in their adjustment to the postformation community life, there was little the community could do to change the attitude that, "now that I have what I set out to achieve, I noolonger want it." My reading of their autobiographies comes up with a pattern throughout their life of obtaining something, then setting it aside. Before entering the community, a high number of petitioners had obtained graduate degrees in unrelated fields and then never used this knowledge and experience. At the core of persons of this type is their inability to project their hopes into the future and make an assessment of their fitness for that vocation. Their experiences of initial formation do not enable them to make an educated guess about their ability to live religious life in the future. They only know what is present to them, and now that they have the life in its fullness they no longer want it for themselves. The New Founders Some people enter a religious community with the idea of reshaping it according to their own vision of religious life. Such an idea is in strange contrast to a community's centuries-long acceptance of its charism, but it is a fact that some people feel that their own image of religious life today takes priority over all that has come before it. One area into which such new-foundation efforts are brought is the community's mission. New founders would define this mis-sion as movement for social change or promotion of a different theological perspective. In countries where there has been a his-tory of repression in society, they see religious community as a resistance movement that offers its members prophetic opportu-nities. When the new founders promote involvement in social action, they become disappointed that not all the members feel called to participate. In more industrial countries the meaning of religious life, Review for Religious according to some new founders, is to protnote the women's movement or the gay movement. For others it is to become pro-tectors of traditional understandings of the faith. A common focal point for new founders is the community's liturgy. It becomes the platform for their view of religious life. Whether traditional or progressive, they see community prayer as a way to form the other members into a new identity. Most new founders are critical of programs for new members and of the actions of the community's leaders. They believe that, if their own vision of things prev~lils, the community will be refounded with new vitality. They blame the community's short-age of vocations on its resistance to their newcomers' vision of community renewal. The tone of their petitions for dispensation often indicates that they consider themselves to be ahead of or even better than most of the institute's members. They predict dire consequences for the community after their departure, Convinced that their own vision is important and urgent, they feel they must leave and find a place to implement it immedi-ately. Such refounding attitudes seem to stem from an assumption that the community is joining them on their journey, not that they are joining a group that already has a reasonably defined identity as it proceeds on its journey. In my experience, formation programs that encourage self-expression without enough regard for the community's corporate identity only encourage new founders in convictions that will prove problematic. The Loss-of-Hopes I have thus far described three types of departing members. I believe that the responsibility for their departure from religious life rests primarily with them and not the community. The com-munity has failed them in many ways, but the motivation of these individuals has been essentially flawed, often from their very early years in religious life. The fourth type of persons leaving reli-gious life today are different. Here the primary responsibility for the departure lies with the community, with its lack of faithfulness to its charism. These tragic petitions come from persons who have given their best effort to be faithful to the religious life and have not found much support from other members. Some have found it JanuaTy-Febtvtaty 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us nearly impossible to find within their community a supportive environment for prayer and the vowed life. If they have shared their frustrations with other members, they often have received kind words but not active support. Sometimes this, alienation from the community has been caused by other members' general lack of interest in things spir-itual. These other members see themselves as professionals and have little feeling for the idea of a vocation. Considering the meaning of the vows to be very personal, they avoid discussing their own viewpoint with others for fear of seeming to impose it on them. I believe that the departure decisions of members of this type are rooted in their experience of hopelessness about the direc-tion in which the community seems to be moving. Often they feel that they do not even speak a common language about reli-gious life with the other members. They feel that the commu-nity has settled for the lowest common denominator for reasons of avoiding the tensions associated with serious conversion efforts. From my distant vantage point, there appear to be real signs of death in places where these departing members have been living their religious life; regrettably, suggestions to try another place are too late by the time the petition for dispensation reaches the major superior. It falls on leaders to learn from these tragic stories and to address the perceived failures as part of their leadeiship task. In my experience, it is almost impossible to restore hope to members who have become disillusioned; but leadership should make dis-tinct efforts to change situations in which, in the future, even more members would be likely to lose their hope. The I'm-Better-Nows Persons of the fifth and final type of men leaving religious life during my term of office were those who through most of their lives suffered from spiritual or emotional problems. Often their motive for entering religious life was the hope of having their problems resolved by the vowed life. Some of these problems were rooted in their early childhood experiences. Religiou~ life appeared to be a safe place to escape the pain of their family sit-uation. Their low self-esteem was a primary reason for entering community. Their hope, however, that religious life would con- Revie'a, for Religious fer a new value on them and make them better people had not been fulfilled. In some cases the reality of verbal or physical abuse made them fearful of any close relationship. They perceived the vow of chastity as protecting them from such trials, but as the years passed they experienced an inability to relate in a healthy manner with other members of the community. Their lives were marked by a crisis event, such as substance abuse, which made their superiors suggest or even require them to get professional help. Their petitions for depar-ture were often set in the context of the ther-apy in which their suffering was addressed. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. If they now were capable of healthy relationships, they wanted marriage or the freedom to find deeper mean-ing outside religious community. While it might seem strange, their main reason for wanting to leave community was that they were now happy and did not need the community anymore, Their needs for protection and status had been resolved in a positive manner. Most of these petitioners expressed gratitude to the community for their loving support through their many trials, and they knew true sorrow as they left. I have spoken with a number of healthcare givers about mem-bers of this type, and all have suggested that departure may be the best option for them. They also suggest that religious should examine within their communities the dynamics that allow peo-ple to hide from their problems until they reach the crisis stage. One healthcare professional once told me he thought that reli-gious practice "false mercy" in not addressing the problems of disturbed members until there is a major crisis. As they became spiritually and emotionally more integrated, their reasons for being a religious seemed to them less cogent. Reflections for the Future No matter how perfect our formation programs become, there will always be some members who make the decision to leave us after many years of association. This is to acknowledge frankly Janttaty-Febtvtat3, 1997 Merrienboer * Of Those Who Leave Us the human dimension of religious life, but we can learn from our experiences. It is for the sake of such learning that I have shared my insights as a general-council member who has returned to his province and seen these patterns continuing in religious com-munities. Can we learn from those who have left us? Can we speak hon-estly with our present members when we see behaviors that have led others to leave us? I believe that, if we have the courage to say yes to these two questions, the pain of occasionally having some members choose to leave us and our life together would be much more bearable. In the Temple Year followed year the two had come to this place, old man, old woman, wearing persistence like a skin. Here, perhaps, familiar shadows sharpened the eye's observance. What ¯ better place to find the light, and by it be found, than in the dark? Leonard Cochran OP Review for Religious HILARY OTTENSMEYER Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing From time to time a gathering of like-minded Christians-- whether it be a spiritual-direction group, an Emmaus group, a Bible-sharing group, or a prayer group--expresses a desire to "go deeper." This desire, perhaps only vaguely defined, generally means that the members want to be more self-revealing, more honest in discussing areas of faith, doubts about the church, glossed-over conflicts within the group, and fears that the meetings have become perfunctory, even boring. In such a case the introduction of some simple group dynamic into the meetings may allow the group to reach a new and more comfortable, if challenging, level of sharing. A dynamic based on the four seasons seems well suited to that task.~ The first time the dynamic is used, an outside facilita-tor can be helpful, one whom the group has chosen for being able and trustworthy. Later, on its own, the group could well devote at least one session to each of the seasons. Nature's seasons are an experience with which we are all familiar. The seasons can function for a group in poetic, dynamic ways, that is, ways in which the clearest and most labored prose cannot. Such metaphors break through the limits of human speech and help us become aware of thoughts and feelings that are otherwise inaccessible. The "I am" statements of John's Gospel demonstrate this beau-tifully. Each believer brings a different set of meanings Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB wrote "The Problem with Problems" for our September-October 1995 issue. His address remains 1414 Southern Avenue; Beech Grove, Indiana 46107. Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing on hearing Jesus describe himself as the Good Shepherd or the Bread of Life. The seasons function in a similarly evocative way. People instinctively realize that we grow only when we hon-estly share the burdens and problems of our minds and hearts. Time and again we witness this in the pages of the Gospels. The healed leper, the demoniac rescued from among the tombs, the blind Bartimaeus lifted from his roadside isolation, the breath-less disciples returning to Jerusalem from the road to Emmaus, all these Jesus restores to community where they can pour out their hearts in sharing their "stories." Some Cautions Sharing in a group must be neither .intrusive nor abusive. Certain agreed-upon boundaries need to be set to protect the sanctuary of the individual conscience and the dignity of personal free will. There can be no forced entry into the heart. Even God will not force that door, but, like a true lover, quietly tells us, ,Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me" (Rv 3:20). The ultimate dream: table companionship with God! As a minimum, the following rules apply: 1. Members should make only."I" statements, never "you" statements, that is, "I think." and not "You are . " We cannot know the full reality of other people's minds and hearts until we ask them from a respectful distance. 2. Anyone should feel free to call a halt at any time to a line of inquiry directed towards herself or himself: "I'd really rather not discuss that at this time." This allows group members to claim the reverence which is their due. 3. Members should accept responsibility for the unfolding of their lives, avoiding the chronic "victim mentality" that is pervasive in our culture. Blaming others or "life" is most often an evasion.~ As one friend expresses' it, there are four doors into the neurotic. Each door is a belief in one of the following statements: (1) I can make you happy; (2) I can make you sad; (3) you can make me happy; (4) you can make me sad. Reluctant though we are to acknowledge it, each one of us is responsible for his or her own life. Only catastro-phes that overwhelm us exempt us from facing this honestly. 4. We help each other through honest and clear feedback, painful though that may sometimes be. Simple feedback, that Review for Religious is, a brief statement about how another's thoughts or actions come up in one's own life, proves most helpful: "When I am drawn to act that way, I find ."Advice giving is to be care-fully avoided. Other cautions come to mind, but these seem basic. We do not have a direct perception of ourselves. So burdened are our thought processes, so fixed into routine are our actions, that we need the kind mirror of another's perceptions held up before us. We seem at times so suffocated by our prejudices, by our closely guarded denials and chosen ignorances, that we experience a real joy when someone gently opens the window to let in the fresh air of new ideas and new possibilities. Indeed, our deepest prej-udices are those we hold against ourselves. This is the saddest discovery of all. What a joy when someone helps us stand up and claim our own worth! Fall: Season of Fruition Easing into the sharing process is most gently done by choos-ing as a beginning the symbol of fall. Most mellow of seasons, fall is the time of harvest, when good things are gathered up and fes-tivals begin. The rewards of hard work and steady determination lie before us. We have a need to celebrate at this time of year. At this point, what are the fruits of the group's loyalties? There are stored memories of joy shared, of times when a mem-ber has been lifted up and celebrated. The group has had insights that can be recalled, times when it realized that Jesus was there in their midst and hearts burned with awareness of his presence. The Lord was walking with the group as it went along the way. Ours is a faith community devoted to the joys of remembrance, as every Eucharist proclaims. One way of beginning: Inventory the gifts each individual brings to the group. What do I bring to the group which, because of my background, education, talents, and so forth, constitutes a special gift? Follow this by a question put to the entire group: What do we think this one member contributes that is most enriching? Move on then to a consideration of how the group has changed over time, pointing out new levels of support and understanding. Where has a sense of continuity been discerned? What new and unexpected biessings have been slowly revealed in each individual? ffanuao,-Febrttaty 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing An important benefit of a sharing group is the contact that members have between sessions. We all struggle to keep alive a "circle of friends." A support group affords an excellent opportu-nity to widen that circle beyond relatives and school-day chums. Do the members of the group reach out to each other between meet-ings? Has acquiring and sustaining friends--those essential inter-personal skills--been nurtured by the activities of the support group? What new skills have been acquired? "If you want a friend, be a friend" is a truth that needs to be lived out day by day. Living in community is of itself no assurance of having friends, but only company. Have I worked at being a friend to members of the group? Winter: Season of Perseverance Winter is the season of hoping and of endurance. For most of us in these northern climes, except for the occasional bright win-ter day, the skies are covered and a chill hangs over the land. Winds bite. Snow and ice impede travel. One has to draw on deep inner resources of strength, and hold on to memories of warmer days. There are winter seasons for a support group, too. These times have to be confronted and admitted. There is a time for breaking open the soil before spring planting. We are reluctant to put a hand to this kind of work, but it is the necessary condition for future growth. A "winter" discussion is the most difficult kind the group will have, and requires patience and loyalty. Questions needing examination fall easily into three cate-gories: 1. Where have we silently established "off limits" areas of discussion: subtly agreed-upon restrictions and withhold-ings? When and how does sharing break down in the group? What expectations did we bring when we joined the group, and how have these been disappointed because of these unspoken conventions? Was I honest with my hopes when I joined? Certainly, every group has the right to mark the boundaries of its sharing. But were these boundaries hon-estly agreed on when the group was formed? Were we too idealistic, too superficial, or too demanding? Were there angers in the group that were glossed over? ¯ 2. What does the group need to work on with determina-tion, for example, admitting and establishing boundaries, facing avoidances; or surfacing denials? Review for Religious 3. Very importantly, what healings need to take place? Does any member feel wounded or rejected in any way? How would this healing best come about? One makes a wonderful discovery in crossing this difficult winter terrain. Secrets can poison people's lives. When we have the courage and trust needed to reveal those tender areas of the heart, we find that others too have suffered in the same way. Walls crum-ble. The Jesus who draws us together out of our loneliness and fears is there, in the eyes and voices of others, to strengthen the fragile bonds that hold together a faith community. Spring: Season of Hope Renewed We all love spring with its beginnings of new life, with early crocuses, hyacinths, and tulips. Winter seems sometimes to linger stubbornly, but spring finally triumphs and spirits soar. Melting snows turn into sparkling rivulets. Sap rises in the trees, and ten-der greens appear along the limbs of trees. A support group too brings forward its hopes for renewal, for new life. It is helpful to go back and test the roots for their vital-ity. This can be done when the members share where their indi-vidual faith stories began. People are always eager to tell their stories. The vast professional therapeutic industry has risen because people are hungry to recount their stories. If the listen-ers are skilled, they can help the storyteller understand better the meaning of the tale. Within the faith story, certain elements are important. Who taught you to pray? Who were your role mod-els of faith? What were some of the significant moments on your faith journey? What was your image of God in childhood years, and how has it evolved over the years? How do you pray at this time in your life? What more do you wish for in your relationship with God? What is your answer when Jesus asks, "What do you want meto do for you?" (Mk 10:51). Not only do roots need to be inspected, but growth too needs to be looked for. What hungers are you aware of in your faith today? How could this support group help you? What aspects of your faith do you want to bring into the lives of those you love or those with whom you work? I have noticed that groups experience a surge of interest when "spring" sessions take place. A renewed commitment, a deeper investment is made in the group, and mem-bers reach a deeper trust level very easily. Januao,-FebrttaO, 1997 Ottensmeyer ¯ Four Seasons for Christian Group Sharing Summer: Season of Sustained Growth The summer months fill us with a sense of achievement. The harsh days of winter are over. The stimulating work of spring has been accomplished. Now is the time to relax and enjoy the warm days and long, quiet evenings. In fields and in flower beds around the house, buds are gathering to maturity; grains are swelling in the fields and fruits filling out to ripeness in the orchards. This is the season of contentment, when gentle rains come to nature's aid. Now people have time for visits, vacations, and concerts in the park. Indeed, the "lazy, hazy days of summer" clothe us like a comfortable garment, and we are grateful. Groups, too, can benefit from at least one "summer" session, counting the blessings the members have seen coming to fruition among themselves. What was the heritage the individual members received from their mother and father? Looking back on the ten-der years of childhood, each person recognizes a "gift" from his or her parents, a "breath of life" that only parents could breathe into the heart of a child. Influenced deeply by our family roots, we make decisions about our place, our possibilities, in the world. What was the special legacy, outlook on life, stance before the future that the members received-from their mother and father? And how has this gift been nurtured and cherished? How did the hands of your father and mother feel at your back as they sup-ported your first steps and as you still, to this da~,, feel their hands steadying your walk through life? Or, and this too must be faced, did their hands grasp you and hold you back? When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reach-ing with help and love into your life? Perhaps you experienced God as a hand drawing you forward through difficult days and years, pointing the way prophetically towards promise. Which times were times of contentment, when your journey reached a plateau and you rested quietly for a while? Seasoned Years Our lives seem to take the shape of repeated cycles. The pri-mordial journey of Abraham comes to mind here. A call comes to move forward when we are asked to entrust our future to God in faith. Then follows a transition period presenting obstacles to overcome, anxieties and failures to accept, flesh commitments courageously to be made to our beckoning God. Finally comes a Review for Religious sense of arrival, a time to rest and gather strength for the next call, time to sing a canticle of gratitude. Such a pattern applies to a support group. How has the group experienced these calls, these trials, and these periods of rest? Does the group know how to celebrate its members, choosing activities that will express its joy? One priest group I know takes a three-day trip each summer. All eight pile into a rented van, set out for a not-too-distant point of interest, and simply enjoy them-selves. They are gathering shared happy experiences to live on through the months to come. Nothing has been said on the impor-tant topics of how a group is set up, how members select themselves into a group (or are allowed to join it), and how an individual might bring closure when leav-ing. Indeed, perhaps the group decides it no longer serves its original purposes and goes out of existence. No mention has been made of how a group defines its orig-inal goals or modifies them. Without that vital process, the prospects for a successful investment of time and energy are rather dim. These are all con-siderations for another article, one that indeed has been written many times and was not our purpose here. Group renewal is our purpose. Every group, no matter how well put together at its inception or how generous and serious the will of its members, needs to be renewed in its commitment from time to time. The four seasons of the year can help in that necessary task. When did you first feel the hand of God at your back, reaching with help and love into your life? Note ~ The seminal idea for this article was suggested to me by Donna Fyffe; CommunityWorks; 101 West Ohio Street, Suite 1776; Indianapolis, Indiana 46204. Januar),-FebJvlat3, 1997 PAUL DUCKRO, MARJORIE KUKOR, AND JEAN MEIER Inner Work with Your Anger Anger is an emotion much maligned. It is often referred to as a "negative" emotion. Many persons are not comfort-able feeling anger and seek to suppress it in the interest of har-mony and accommodation. Paradoxically, by such efforts people increase their likelihood of expressing anger dysfunctionally. When people suppress anger, or even repress it, it does not disappear; it is left to work its way indirectly, like a force under-ground. It may express itself in very rationalized statements, rec-ognized only in the impossible and recurring problems that follow in their wake. There may be episodic outbursts of anger followed by gre~t anxiety and remorse, forming a cycle of conflict. Other persons may use anger much more overtly, as a domi-nating force. In them anger is a trademark, emerging frequently with few inhibitions. It may even become crystallized in ways of viewing the world--as evil, inconvenient, incompetent, and so forth. Either extreme--expressing anger frequently or habitually suppressing it--may lead to the development of a clinically sig-nificant syndrome for which professional therapy is indicated. Along with such destructive potential, anger has many posi-tive aspects that we shall point out. Moreover, there are proactive ways to deal constructively with deleterious anger in everyday life. Behavioral therapies have been demonstrated to be very effec- Paul Duckro PhD, Dr. Marjorie Kukor, and Jean Meier CSJ, PsyD, can be written to at St. Louis Behavioral Institute; 1129 Macldind Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63110. Review for Religious tive. For example, cognitive behavior therapy is effective in cases of uncontrolled anger, suppressed anger, simmering resentment, or cycles of angry outburst and fearful restraint. Typically it com-bines development of new skills, modification of dysfunctional beliefs, and exploration of past experiences that have shaped a person's thoughts and behaviors. More experiential approaches are effective too. In clinical practice these have been shown to improve the recognition, acknowledgment, and expression of anger, whether or not there is the opportunity to work through the anger interpersonally. Experiential therapies take many forms. Art, movement, and fan-tasy are common ways to explore and express anger. Painting and sculpturing are evocative media through which the source of someone's anger can be revealed. Color and form can often rep-resent anger that lies too deep for words. This therapy has long been used with children, but it is no less effective with adults who feel trapped in their own anger. Exercise and movement can express and diffuse angry feelings. Emotional energy is "con-verted" into physical energy rather than being "trapped" in psy-chological or physical symptoms. Fantasy allows people to express and then explore their powerful emotions in a safe way, even toward absent or deceased persons or toward the unseen God. The persons "work through" angry feelings, moving toward a new level of integration and wholeness. Experiential therapies are important when the anger is not even recognized, much less processed, as emotion. It is not unusual for anger to be experienced and expressed--and masked-- in intellectualized forms such as opinions and logical judgments. In such cases, working in a tactually receptive form of experien-tial therapy can release emotions otherwise effectively disguised as thoughts and verbalizations. For persons of faith, contemplative or meditational encounter with the anger has great potential, linking the psychological and spiritual aspects of healing. It is on this approach to anger man-agement that we focus here. For our purposes we will refer to it as inner work. Inner work is the interior correspondent of con, flict resolution. The essence of both is movement, as opposed to remaining stuck in resentment, bitterness, or cynicism. From the exterior perspective, the time given to inner work appears to be "doing nothing." In fact, this doing nothing is true only superficially. Inner work is an active and engaging process of Janua~y-Feb~'ualy 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. Synergistic with the more obvious activity of conflict resolution, engaging in inner work may provide the time needed for cooling off. Beyond such a practical benefit, this doing nothing is also the space in which one can reflect and make associations and thus prepare to move forward in relation-ships. It helps individuals to insure that they are not pinning their own issues onto someone else or substituting one-sided judgment for dialogue. Stages of Inner Work Inner work with anger involves several stages. The first appears so simple that it is often overlooked: the recognition that you are angry. This step requires regular self-examination, knowl-edge of the ways you may experience anger physically and psy-chologically, and alertness to how you customarily try to mask your anger. That regular self-examination is necessary only restates the obvious: if one does not look, one will not see. Knowing the variety of ways that people experience anger increases the odds that you will recognize it. Anger is, of course, an emotion that people experience directly, but it can also be uncovered in behaviors, thoughts, verbalizations, and bodily reac-tions. Individuals will have characteristic ways in which their anger is masked, expressed indirectly, or expressed passively. Becoming aware of these patterns of human response, you will more likely recognize your own anger under such guises as logi-cal argument, social withdrawal, passive resistance, depressed mood, and spiritualization. If you do not recognize your anger, it cannot be channeled or transformed. Anger that is not experienced or expressed directly is not easily unmasked. Gruff exteriors can hide from the indi-viduals themselves an anger that is obvious to everyone else; so can a smile, and so can solicitousness. For you to relate to such a "shy" anger within yourself may be compared to relating to some-one who is reluctant to come forward. The unmasking must not be done forcefully, or hurtfully. Imagineextending your hand to the anger within, with reassurance that there is no need to hide. In this invitation the anger is reassured that it is seen as a legiti-mate emotion with a reason for being which is important for you to understand. Review fi~r Religious The simple power of recognizing your anger (we might call it awareness) lies in the fact that merely paying it attention changes the anger at once. This phenomenon, the power of simple obser-vation to transform what it observes, is well recognized, not only in behavioral but even in physical science. It can be found in var-ious forms also in our spiritual tradition. From earlier teachers we know the concept that to hold the true name of anything or any-one is to have power over it. We learn that the desert fathers and mothers taught their spiritual children first to name their demons.St. Teresa of Avila taught us that, if anything is embraced in love, it already begins to be transformed. To be true to this way of proceeding, we must remind ourselves that the power does not lie in trying to manipulate or control the anger. In each case, as in the example of dealing with "shy" anger, there is an encounter with the anger. Encounter implies relationship, interaction, and the potential for mutual change: the anger also has something to say. The second stage of inner work with anger may be described as bringing the anger inside yourself. Unpacking that metaphor is not easy; not all of its meaning will be captured in any one exposition. It is already evident that the first and second stages are diametrically opposed to what is often a reflexive response to strong, unwanted anger--trying to get rid of it. We turn to a familiar fairy tale to shed more light on the power of bringing the anger inside. Recall the story of "The Three Little Pigs." Imagine being one of the little pigs barricaded in the last house, the one made of brick. Anger at first may seem like,the big bad wolf howling menacingly outside the door. You shake within, behind the barred door and locked windows. To be exposed to such a monster would be certain death. If matters continue in this way, there can be no happy end-ing-- at best there is stalemate. You know the pigs' solution, and in a way it is related to what we will suggest. But let us modify it in the interest of love and mutual growth. In a feat reserved for imagery, imagine yourself inviting that wolf in. Already, simply to enter the house, the big wolf must become small, at least small Inner work is an active and engaging process of coming to terms with both the immediate stimulus for the anger and its deeper sources within. JanuaJ3,-FebJvtal3, 1997 D_.~ckro~ Kukor~ and Meier * Inner Work with Your Anger enough to fit through the very same door which you use. From that time the wolf already becomes more your equal; the bad wolf becomes your guest. Your fear calms down to prudent caution. Anger, upon being brought inside, begins the dialogue, furthers mutual understanding, and allows you to listen to the message-- which apparently some part of you thought was important enough to arouse such a furor. The third stage consists of continuing your association with the anger. This is the dialogue, and the very heart of inner work with anger. Although associating with your anger must of neces-sity be a free-flowing process, with content unique to yourself, it is useful to consider the general material you might encounter. The material of association might be divided into old and current issues. Old issues are the recurrent themes that come up again and again in anyone's life. Much of the message of any intense "negative" emotion has to do with these recurring themes. A popular way of conceptualizing this idea has been called the 90/10 rule. It suggests that, in understanding the message of strong feeling, very little (10 percent) has to do with what seems to be obvious, the matter on which you are focused. The greater part (90 percent) arises from old issues that have been reawak-ened by the current circumstances. Imagine a detonator: a small and harmless charge sets off a much larger and destructive explo-sion, a cache of dynamite for example. Obviously, the great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. These old issues influence your perception as perva-sively as a pair of colored glasses affects your view of the world around. They color your interpretations and lead to a type of conditioned reality. You actually see what you expect to see. Unrecognized old issues lead to compulsive or addictive cycles of behavior. You perceive each new situation through lenses that transform it into an old familiar one. In turn, you bring up and apply old familiar responses to these new situations. Outcomes become more and more predictable. Imagine a traveling theater troupe picking up extra actors in each town. The players are dif-ferent, but the plots are always the same. With anger, bitterness, or resentment, there is a kind of cold comfort in having been right about the advent of unpleasant realities (while you conve-niently forget that often it is you who make them unpleasant). Such victories are P))rrhic, Finding the results familiar becomes Review for Religious for you (however unconsciously) more desirable than finding--or trying to make--the current reality pleasant. The rigid shape of such compulsive behavior is evident. To emphasize the importance of old issues is not to say that current issues are unimportant. On the contrary, as you recog-nize the anger, calm the anxiety, and listen for old issues, the cur-rent issues become more distinguishable and more manageable. The solutions that present themselves are likely to be effective for being rooted in your actual current situation instead of being autonomous repetitions of previous experiences. When you see current issues clearly, you under-stand them in terms of relationship rather than as someone else's problem affecting you. You see a problem as relational, a matter between or among the several concerned parties rather than in one or another person. Common sources of anger in the present include threats to self-esteem, feeling vulnerable, being cheated, receiv~ ing dishonest or indirect communication. When these problems are freed from the heavy bag-gage of the old, recurring themes, their substance remains but they become much lighter to carry. Consider, for example, a threat to self-esteem. A colleague is given attention for her successes. It seems to you that some of her ideas carrie from' conversations in which you played a part. There is resentment that she is in the spotlight and fear that no one will look to you for ideas in the future. The most power-ful factors in your emotional response to the situation lie in your previous experiences. If you have felt unappreciated, if you have been afraid to speak before others, if you have learned to feel that others do not take you seriously, if you have learned to deeply doubt your own value or your ability to succeed, you will feel burning anger at your dubiously accurate perception of a threat to your livelihood and reputation. If you are not good at pro-cessing and expressing anger, you will carry it as a tortuous con-flict within you, eating at body and mind, blocking the flow of spirit. On the other hand, if you can recognize the old issues for what they are, can avoid disparaging yourself for holding them, and then begin dealing with them directly, you will find within The great positive potential in associating with the anger is in learning to listen for the old issues which come up in the process. dO dTtttltta13,-Febrtttlty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger yourself the energy for doing so. You will assess more clearly how serious the immediate threat is. From that assessment you can gauge the strength of the confrontation and discussion you must have with your colleague. If you are not.skilled at assertive expres-sion, you may determine a course of action to improve such skills. The problem is resolvable. The actual method of associating with your anger requires some elaboration. An essential component is to calm yourself down. The failure to calm down, especially to calm down your cognitive activity, heightens the risk of repeating a version of the old issues that tend to inflate your angry response. Physiological calming facilitates cognitive calming, and both allow the pro-duction of fresh associations. It is important to distinguish this type of calming from sup-pressing the anger or avoiding the current issues. The idea is not to become suddenly and inexplicably blissful. The aim is simply to be present to the anger--bringing it in, seeing it for what it is, and sorting out the old issues that are inflaming it. The most effective way to calm down is simply to become aware of your breathing and then to breathe gradually more slowly and deeply, and from the diaphragm. No particular rate or pro-portion of breathing is necessary, but it is often helpful to allow each exhalation to proceed slowly, like a slow leak from a tire. With each long exhalation your heart rate will be slower, and you will feel more and more relaxed. Let yourself move as necessary to remain physically comfortable, and do not be afraid to take a big ungainly breath if you get out of rhythm; just come back to the slow, diaphragmatic breathing as soon as possible thereafter. The overall goal is a sense of effortlessness in the breathing, letting the tension and the struggle to control melt away, but feeling all the sensations of the body with even greater awareness. Focus then on the parts of the body that seem most active. You will find in these places the physical correlates of your anger, As you interact in this way with your physical sensations, move to the emotion underlying them. Remaining relaxed, let yourself feel the anger more fully, either directly as emotion or in its phys-ical manifestations. Now that it is allowed to enter within your relaxed self, it will no longer be overpowering as you contemplate it. Call it by name with your inner voice, softly and repeatedly. As you do so, remain calmly aware and allow your mind to produce the next thought, feeling, image, or memory. Accept that next Review for Religious association without judgment, and then focus on it. Continue the process in just this way until you reach an association that seems new and striking a.nd that requires more time. Stay with it for a 16nger time, just holding it in mind. Other thoughts and feelings will weave themselves around it. If you find yourself excessively dis-tracted, try writing.down your thoughts, feelings, or sensations, associating further with each one as you write. In this process of free association, you are opening doors within you. Areas which have been blocked off by shame or will-fulness may become accessible. Some of these areas may be unpleasant, exposing feelings that are painful. These you must bring to spiritual direction, prayer, intimate friends, or psy-chotherapy for support in working through them to new life. In the course of such work, you move toward oneness within; this is the essence of the integrity you seek. You see yourself more hon-estly and clearly, and you see also what is being touched within you. What you must do becomes more clear. The last stage is taking the anger to relationships.° Although our focus in this essay has been on inner work, this inner work leads to interpersonal interaction. It is in the movement from intrapersonal exploration to the interpersonal resolution of anger that we avoid individualism and act for justice and peace in our personal worlds. These personal worlds, in any particular life or set of circumstances, may range from the grand scale of interna-tional diplomacy to the intimate relationship of two persons. This inner work, then, is not an alternative to external work, but is the basis from which to move toward others. In inner work we take time to explore thoroughly .the nature of our own anger, with-holding action until we have taken the beam from our own eye. Upon so doing, when we do act we are much less likely to return evil for evil. We are more likely to be able to collaborate with God in turning all things to the good, for ourselves and others. Relational Responses In discussing this stage in which we take the anger to rela-tionship, it is useful to highlight the basic choices with which we are faced. Our choices determine whether and how much our response will further a relationship. In coming to terms with any strong "negative" emotion, we are faced with such choices, lead-ing to greater or lesser connection with others. Januaty-Febtvlaty 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier ¯ Inner Work with Your Anger The mutuality required for integration rests ultimately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Y2 At its worst, anger polarizes. The participants separate into factions whose interests seem mutually opposed. Anger so expe-rienced leads to stronger or longer-lasting feelings of hatred and resentment, and to behaviors aimed at the injury or destruction bf the other parties. We easily see such hot or cold wars on the broad and somewhat anonymous levels of local, national, and interna-tional politics; they occur just as often, however, on the smaller stages of our personal and professional lives. Somewhat more benign, but still only minimally relational, is what we might call parallel play. In this live-and-let-live stance, there is no intention to hurt the other parties, but neither is there much sense of the common or universal good, and there is no intimate interaction. Farther along the continuum, we can indicate a point of compromise. This term is unfortunately not held in high esteem. What some people see as a reasonable compromise, many others see as "giving in," collaborating with evil; in fact, they see the compromiser as "compromised"-- or, at best, wishy-washy. However, com-promise (literally: putting forth, together) can be actually a high-level response with the potential for build-ing a better relationship out of previous anger and conflict. The partners in conflict become sensitive to each other's agendas and to opportunities for their mutual benefit in a common good. The arrangement might be unsteady, but continued dialogue in this spirit leads to change, however slow it might seem to those who prefer war, personal or otherwise, as a means of change. On any given day, compromise may be all the relationality we can muster. Nevertheless, its regular practice can move us along toward the point of integration. It is in the honest integra-tion of apparent opposites that we most fully participate in ongo-ing creation. Both compromise and integration must be and remain, opposed to syncretism, in which each side is reduced to being a lesser entity than it was. Integration requires the full pres-ence of both parties, each maintaining--and even realizing more fully--its own identity, but also coming together to form, from an Review Jbr Religious appreciation of their essential unifies and commonalities of inter-est, a new whole never before experienced. To accomplish such a union requires freshness of experience: two persons seeing each other as if for the first time. Obviously, the ideal is challenging and not easily reached. It is best to consider it a process that incor-porates the letting-go of egoism, that sense of self which empha-sizes self-protection and personal rights at the expense of openness and intimacy. It is analogous to the process of inculturation in evangelization presented by Pope John Paul II and articulated eloquently in the documents of General Congregation 34 of the Society of Jesus. The mutuality required for integration rests ulti-mately on dialogue, people expressing their own feelings and desires and listening to one another. Words are a poor medium to express such matters, but they are often the best means we have. In love, they are enough. At this level of relationship, anger has been transformed. It is now not merely a difficult emotion to be managed, but an impetus to new creation. Of such dialogue--two or more persons allowing their center of focus to be between or among themselves rather than within any one of them--it may truly be said that the reign of God is there. Forgiveness and reconciliation are experienced in a fresh way. Old hurts are not forgotten, but now are embodied in the new whole. They are used to create a new way of understanding which, rather than suppressing them, coopts them for the good. Taking care of oneself is redefined, as self has been redefined, beyond the limits of the corporeal body and one's personal psy-chological history. The well-being of any other person comes grad-ually to be seen as vitally important to one's own self. The Contemplative Stance This coming together in integration is certainly not without much pain and difficulty. More often than not, it seems that the creation of a new whole from disparate positions is impossible. Nevertheless, it is this apparent impossibility that in fact calls us to a new something. There is a tradition, among shamans of so-called primitive religions, that iust such apparently impossible situations signal, often in a sacred dream, the opportunity to advance to a new level of spiritual understanding. In our Christian tradition we may understand this new creation as furthering cor-poral realization of the mystical body of Christ. .~mlttaly-Febrttal3, 1997 Duckro, Kukor, and Meier o" Inner Work with Your Anger A contemplative stance in life facilitates the recognition and acceptance of opportunities' for integration as we work through strong feelings of anger. Such a contemplative stance does not imply or require a cloistered vocation; it is simply a willingness to become ever more aware of what is happening within us and around us. It is furthered by the practice of certain disciplines such as frequent self-examination, centering prayer, and medita-tive relaxation. An image passed on by Suzanne Zuercher OSB expresses the nature of being contemplative very well. Imagine holding a bird in your cupped hands. Hold it too tightly and the bird will be crushed; too loosely and the bird flies away. So it is to be present to ourselves and others. In such contemplation God, divine Mystery, is found truly in all things. All the events of life, without exception, are material for the spiritual journey. There is no need to avoid or suppress dis-tractions or strong emotions; there is only the call to work with them honestly. An ideal, of course, is a distant marker. As with ship and lighthouse, we hope not so much to find ourselves there as to be guided by its light. In the end the stuff of our growth is not found in our perfection, but in our flaws. Stumbling blocks become stepping stones, fissures become our footholds. Honest reflecting on the disruptive emotions that rise unbidden in us, and on our failures in handling them for the good, keep us rooted humbly in the truth of our lives. This truth, however unlovely it may seem, is the sure and only foundation for realizing the power of God working in us, From there we move closer to joy and compassion, holy indiffer-ence and equanimity, and become people for others. We find love. Review for Religious DENISE M. CALLAGHAN On Letting Go l~aan still see you sitting across the room from me, the light of e lamp highlighting your silver hair, your blue eyes still filled with life. You talked of how they were "putting you out," try-ing to get you to come to the motherhouse infirmary. And the best reason they could give you? They were worried about you because you seemed to be forgetful. You were not buying that, you told me. You kept insisting that you knew what you were doing, that you were not forgetful or careless about little matters of safety. I tried to suggest that there could be episodes you were not aware of. If you had been aware, there would be no prob-lem- but not being aware that you were not aware could be seri-ous. I was not just playing with words. I tried to give you examples. I tried to ease your dread of being uprooted. I hope I helped just a little, anyway. I thought of you often after you left. I found myself praying that you would be able to let go. So much of life is a matter of let-ting go. None of us does it lightly or easily. We are clingers by nature, I think. Even as infants we fasten our fingers around lit-tle baubles and hold on with surprising strength. Paul talks about that in some of his Epistles. "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child . . ." (1 Co 13:11). I think (can we really remember it all now?) that it was not always easy to put aside the things of the child and become the responsible adult. Somehow, however awk-wardly, we did it. Sometimes it is not all pain--if the letting go of the old, famil-iar some thing, or some place, or some one means the reaching out Denise M. Callaghan SSND writes to us from 6401 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21212. 1997 Callagban ¯ On Letting Go What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly listen! Y6 to some one new, or some place new, or some thing new that sat-isfies and delights us. But there are those letting go's that are just that: all pain. There is no exchange; there is an emptying out, a hollowing out, a hurt, a loneliness, a void. Some of us literally break under the strain of it. Some of us do not break, but we become bitter and withdrawn. Some of us bluff our way through or somehow just bury the ache. Some of us, quietly and with great wisdom, simply let go--and then go on. What a great grace! No matter who we are, no matter how well we do what we do, we will all need from time to time to be able to let go: ¯ the older for the younger, ¯ the familiar for the new and the different, ¯ the surety of the tried and the true for the promise of the untried and the possible, ¯ the mellowed for the freshly cured, ¯ the wisdom of experience for the vision and the dream of the not-yet-chanced. It cannot be done lightly, nor should it be. Wisdom cautions weighing and measuring, reflectively letting go, effectively hold-ing on. We need to pray that the Spirit of wis-dom will inform us. We need to be attentive listeners to the movement of the Spirit in our own hearts and to trust that message. We also need to pray to be good listeners one to another. No one of us is so informed that our own judgment is always best. So we listen and weigh our view again, in light of someone else's wisdom and insight, There is a courtesy we owe one another, and a respect, and an esteem. We listen to each other, not dismissing the line of rea-soning, but attentively pondering it. What a beautiful gift we offer one another when we truly lis-ten! It is rare that we really do this. It can be singularly painful to someone when we do not do it, as when one who over a span of years has been looked up to as wise and judicious, insightful and intuitive, now senses that her views are being suddenly and sum-marily dismissed by younger members of the community. The real pain here is the feeling she has, upon seeing her remarks mentally brushed aside or not even fairly listened to, that she her-self is being discarded. This kind of not listening can go the other way, too. Someone Review for Religious young and presumably inexperienced touches deftly and wisely the very core of the issue and is merely smiled at as though youth's inexperience cannot possibly know anything that is truly perti-nent and helpful. All of us, of course, are painfully aware that most wisdom seems to come only by hindsight. Wisely did St. Augustine pray often for the grace of a "listening heart." We do indeed have to try our best to speak truth as we perceive it. Beyond that, we need the grace to be able to let go and try to pick up the truth in the words of others. Sometimes the need to let go can concern only myself: ¯ the death of a loved'one when I cannot even imagine living my life apart from that person, ¯ the loss of a friend in some painful misunderstanding that somehow cannot seem to be remedied, ¯ the diminishment and inability brought on by serious illness or aging, ¯ the hurt when politics decides who gets the promotion or the credit or the acclaim. One other demand on us individually from time to time will be the letting go of memories. We need never let go of the very heartening memories that enrich us and that are among our most precious treasures. We thank God over and over for those times, those persons, those events that set our hearts to singing at their every recall. But we do need to let go, with God's help, when the memory is painful and the whole episode shouts of injustice or rash judgments or false accusations or just plain dislike. It is right to try to remedy the wrong, particularly if it is done to someone else. Jesus asks each of us to be a speaker of truth. But when every effort fails and every avenue of remedy is sealed off, we need sim-ply to let go and to go on. It is not easy. Yet holding on and nurs-ing the grudge can be utterly destructive. We give the victory to the demon of darkness and we hurt God's cause. Ther