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Issue 11.6 of the Review for Religious, 1952. ; A.M.D.G. Review for Religious NOVEMBER15, 19 5 2 Xavier the Catechist ¯ Anthony Perelra Communion of Saints ¯ " c.A. Herbs÷ OnRace Rela~tions . Gerald Kelly Address~fo Superiors . Pope Plus ×ll ¯ I 0,000 Gold Francs Or Life . Adam C, Ellis A Monument to M. Vincent . Jerome Breunig Questions and Answers Xavier Centenary Book Reviews Communications index for 19S2 VOLUME XI NUMBER RI::::Vi W FOR Ri .LIGIOUS VOLU1VIE XI NOVEMBER, 1952 NUMBER 6 CONTENTS ¯ XAVIER CENTENARY-~The Editors . 281 XAVIER THE CATECHIST--~Anthony Pereira, S.J . 282 A NEW INDULGENCED ASPIRATION . 290 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 290 THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 291 FOR THE SOCIAL APOSTOLATE . 295 BOOKS--FOR NOTHING . ° . 295 NOTES ON RACE RELATIONS--Gerald Kelly, S.J . 296 TEN-YEAR INDEX . 300 10,000 GOLD FRANCS OR LIRE--Adam C. Ellis, S.J . 301 ADDRESS TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS--Pope Plus XII . 305 TO TEACHING SISTERS (A Quotation) . 308 COMMUNICATIONS ON INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS . 308 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 28. Use of Income from Inheritance . '. . 309 29. Must Suggestions for General Chapter be Signed? . . 309 30. Mental Prayer during Second Mass . 310 31. Helping Younger Delegates at General Chapter . 310 32. When Do I Start Counting for my Golden Jubilee? . 311 33. Lay" Sisters and Class Distinction . 311 ¯ COMMUNICATION ON CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE . 312 SETS OF BACK NUMBERS . ' . . . 314 A MONUMENT TO MONSIEUR VINCENT--Jerome Breunig, S.J. 315 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Ignatian Way to God; Saint Therese and Suffering . 325 PROCEEDINGS OF CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS . 327 BOOK NOTICES . 328 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 329 FAMILY COMMUNION CRUSADE . 332 ANNUAL INDEX FOR 1952 . 333 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1952. Vol. XI, No. 6. 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. Marsy, 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 i Jerome Breunig, S.J., Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, 8.J. Copyright, 1952, 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 writincj to us, please consult notice on Inside back cover. Xavier Cent:enary DECEMBER 2 will be the four hundredth anniversary of the .death of St. Francis Xavier. Since he is not only our own brother inChrist, but also one of the two principal patrons of the Society.of the-Propagation of ~he Faith' and a saint d'dmired and loved throughout the world, it Seems eminently fitting that we pay~. him some tribute in these pages. Ver'y.specially we desire to re-echo' the follow]ng~eulogy of the saint by His Excellency Dora dose da Costa Nunes, Archbishop of Goa and Damaun. and Patriarch of the East Indies, in his Pastoral Letter of February' 15, 1952: "Among so many missionaries, martyrs and saints Who have' .brought the Gospel to the East, none stands out as prominently as the Glorious Apostle. A beacon of.rare brilliance, he illumined with celestial br!ghtness these regions which were at the time involved in mystery and myth. Go where he might, he left in th~ souls of men a trail of light. No one crossed re.giqns so dFtensive in-order to sow ~he seed of the word of God. "Like th~ Doctor of the ~Gentiles, he stopped nowhere, nor did" ,'he establish himself permanently in any. place. His one aim was to prepare new s~ail and march, ahead, b1~zing'trails, raising new out-pqsts of~Christianity and firmly pla~ting the .Church, leaving ~to his co-workers the labour Of watering and he)ping to bear fruit the seed-he had cast in'the soulsof native peoples . ¯ "And yet it was not these qdalities [his missionary exploits] that conquered for him the glory that surrbunds his name. It was t'he rightful fame of his sanctity . Even before the Church .had canon-ized him, he was already canonized, in a manner of speaking, by the. King of Travaniore, who ordered a statue of him to be placed in a Hindu temple." . The Archbishop's words are quoted from The Clergy/"Monthl~! (published by the destiit Fathers, St. Mary's 'College, Kurseong, D.~.Ry., Indi/) for dune, 1952. Their entire number of The Gler~?~t Monthl~ is devotgd to St. Francis.X~vier. With the peimi,s-sion of tl~e editor, we are reprinting one of ~hearticles, "Xavier the, Catechist, by A. Pereira.,,S.d., in the present.number of 'REV.~EW FOR RELIGIOUS. In a subsequent number we shalloreprint an article "6n Xavier the missionary. THE EDITORS.:,. 281 Xavier !:he Ca!:echist: - A. Pereira, S.). -, FATHER B,ROU, S.J.~ in his life of Xavier, calls the Apostle of ¯ the East 'anincomparable catechist." His life and the" few w'riting~ he has left us prove beyond doubt th, at the title is in no way unmerited. We shall study the saint's"idea of ~atechizing, his catechisms, and his method of catechizing. A CATECHETICAL "MENTALITY" "The more universal a good workis, the more.divine." For this reason Ignatius and the Society from the very beginning considered catechizing as more important and necessary than .other ministries. In May, 1537, Ignatius and his companions resolved "that children should be tatighi Christian doctrine for the.space of an hour" a day. They confir,rned this resolution On the 11 tb of June of the same year: "It has been.~.decided,.by all, except Bobadilla, that the article about teaching children for a period of forty days and for an hour, as indi-cated above, should be made the object of a formal vow and oblige under mortal sin." The Formula of the Institute stresses the fol-lowing: "Let them'consider as especially entrusted to them the edu-cation of the children and the ig.norant in the Christian do~trine." Xavier h'ad imbibed the spirit of Ignatius and particularly hi~ esteem for. catechizing, for he wrote to the Flemish Father B, arzaeus: "That way of helping the people is better-which is the more uni-versal, for example preaching, catechizing, confessing." H~nce he did not want th~ Father-in-charge to shove the duty ofoteaching. catechism on others: "You yourself will take charge of teach"ing the prayers to lhe children of the Portuguese, to the slaves, men and women, and to the native Christians. Do not entrustthis,offic.e to others because the persons who see you doing this are much edified and morepeople, come tO listen and learn the Christian doctrine." The h0ur~0f santa doutrina was.sacred to him. How often do we read in his letters remarks'like this: "In the morning¯~ was teaching men, in the evening ~omen, in the afterndqn after dinner the chil-dren." Xavier, then, was not, as some have .styled him, "a mere meieor" flashing througfi the Fky aimlessly. He had a clear aiml Catechizing, ,he knew, was fundamental, so he consecrated the'best of his time and energy to this humbleand absorbing work: "This 282 XAVIER THE CATECHIST fruitful work on behalf of ~he children is'the important on~." Xavier's esteem for catechizing learnt from Ignatius was further enhaiaced by the circumstances of his mission. Pope Paul III, by his Pontifical Brief of 1540, sent Xavier as his legate to visit the islands of the Red Sea, of the Persian Gulf, of the Ocean (Indian Ocean?), also the provinces and places of India on either side of the Gange.s and the Cape of Good Hope. The Pope entrusted to him the mis-sioh' "to ~trengthen the Christians in their faith and to bri,ng tho~e .who did hot know i{, to know, practic_e, and keep.the.same faith." It Was the custom of the time to :administer baptism to pe0pleowhb knelt only the ess0ntials,-which were'forgotten after baptism for lack of continued and vigilant instruct, ion. The King of.Portugal insisted on nlaking Christians ("fazer muitos crist~os, fazer muita cristan-dade'.'), leavi~ag'to others the care of.instructing them. The first missionaries planted but "no watering was done." Ordinarily they stayed with the Portuguese colonists; hence "the Christians, as there is nobody to teach, them, do not know 'more than to say that.they. are Christians." But it was not safe for the priest to live in places. -where he could not get help from .the Portt~guese. In the Moro Island, for instance, Father Fern~o Vinager converted many.to'the faith but he was killed and the island was deprived of the only priest it had. , We should not forget that tl~e first Portuguese missionaries were laymen. Captains of flotillas, merchants, soldiers plaiited the cross and baptized in {he absence of priests, They had come to the East for "pepp0r and souls," but often more for pepper tharf souls. There are some exceptions, however. In 1'537 one of them, Antonio Galv~o, baptized many of the Moluccans, at their own request, and built a ~eminary. When Galv~o was relieved of.his.office, the semi-nary disappeared with him. The knowledge'of the Christian faith imparted by the soldiers, and merchants could not go very far. Much catechizing remained to be done, as Xavier keenly realized. HIS CATECHETICAL WRITINGS Many writers have tried to magnify Xavier by attributing to 'him the gift of tongues. No need for this. His personality stands out much greater if we se~ him as he was--a man of hard work. From his own letter~ we know how much labour it cost him to learn the languages and to compose his catechisms. "May it please God to give us speech!" We are amongst them like statues; they speak and chat about us and we, not understanding the language, remain quiet; 283 Review [o? Religio~s at'present we must be like children and qearn the language." _ ~ His'aim in @riting his .vhrious catechisms was to be useful to h~mself and to his fellow-missionaries, and to spread the faith in every'pos.~ible w.ay. His predecessors in the missiofi field did not try to learn the languages of~ the people. For Xavier this could not last. He learnt the essentials of our faith in their language and wrote them down.to help his memory. He wished to share with his brel~hren this 'st~cessfial method of catechizing. Whenever"h~ found ~that people could read, as in Japan, he distributed copies of his w~itings:. "This winter we shall busy ourselves with writing for the press a rather detailed exposition of the oarticles of the faith in Japa'nese. All the leading people know how .to read and write. As we cannot help all. in person, our faith may be spr.ead everywhere through printed catechisms . . ." At times he had. th(' prayers posted in the church .that all who.could read should' learn for themselves. His catechetical' writings are the, following: 1, Xavier's Catechisms. Xa~vier brought with him to India the 'Short Catechism' of John de BarroL This formed, the foundation of his catechetical teaching. His own Portuguese catechism, Doutrina., Christ8 (which was.printed in 1557 at the press of St. Paul's Col-lege; Goa), follows rather faithfully the text of de Barros, with a" few additional prayers composed by Xavier--he wanted the cate-chism" lesson to.be a prayer. During~ his four months'-stay in Tuticorin, with great labour and' the help 6f interpreters, he translated the most esser~tial parts (the Creed,-commandments, prayers, Confiteor.) int'o Tamil, for the use of the Paravas who were in such great need of instruction. It was not a masterpiece of literature as-Xavier hin~self recognized. ~He wrot'e to Father Mansilhas, his first companion among the Paravad, to point out. some corre'ctions. Father. Henrique Henriques, the at/thor of a Tamil grammar, found in it mistakes (atguns errog) and inaccuracies (mer~tiras) which he attributed to the carelessness of the interpreters: , While he stayed in Malacca, ir~ 1545~, he put intothe Malayan l~inguage "the Creed, with an exposition of the articles of the faith, the general confessidn, Pater noster, Ave Maria and the co'mmand-merits." It cost him much work, f6r "it is a .painful t~ing not to know the language." ¯ As soon as Xavier came to know Anjiro, the Japanese baptized in Goa as Paulo de Sarita F~, he made up his mind to translate the 284 XAVIER THE CATECHIST catechism~di~to d~panese. He, put his resolution into. effect with tl~e help ,of Paul, vchen h~ reached Kagoshima, the native place of Paul. He gave too much,credit to his helper. Hd could say of him, :' ,Anjiro knows hohz to write ~lapanese very well." But, as Father Valignano wrote late, r, "Paul was not a learned~man and though he tried his Best to translatel our ~doctrine into 3apanese, his work was very defec-tivel so~ much so that it was a cause of scoffing and ~idicule for the ,lapanese. !~ It neither expressed the truth which the Father was preaching.:nor was it .written in a way that their learned men could - read without l~ughter.'~ Paul was not a philosopher and Xavier was not a.linguist. In the~ circumstances more could not. be achieved;' Xavier bad to leave perfection to his successors. 2. Declaracao da Fd (Explanation of the faith). This is a.de-tailed explahation of the Creed. The catechism has laid the founda-tions. The Christians were prepared for" more substantial food. ¯ Xavier starts his explanation from the dreation of the world, and then ex!boses the history of the coming of Christ. He wrote this work whilein Ternate in 1546; in 1548 he asked the Tamilian secular priest Gaspar Coelho to translate it into Tamil. Later, with' the help 9f Anjiro, he put it 'into dapanese--another work of Paul's that was not a piecd of art. The Portugues~ text was printed in Goa, ¯ in 1557, together with Xavier's Portuguese catechism. .3. Ordem e regimento (Christian rule of life) is a manual o~ devotidns, the necessary complement of the catechism. Ithas morning and evening prayers taken from his ~atechism, the examen of conscience and various, other, prayers. There is a meditation on sin, mortal and venial, and even a method of hearing Mass for children. 0 - 4. Instruction/:or Catechists. To the Fathers working in India Xavier proposes a method of catechizing, the fruit.of his own experi-ence. From these pages we get a vivid picture of Xavier's own cate-chism classes. Descriptions of hi~ method are also found in a number of his letters. HIS METHOD ¯ Xavier;s ~catechetical method can bd reduced to four points: natural meansl supernatural means, use of lay-helpers, and .the prin-ciple of adaptation. Natural Means "There is nothing in the mind that was not first in the senses,'" philosophy teaches us. The p,edagog~ of the senses plays a great part. 285 , in Xavier s method. ' Ret:iew'~or Reli'gious~ ¯ - His' classes: began With. a processibnfand con.~intied.as,a li~;ing, difilogu.e. ~ procession! 'rich' and. poor, chil- .d~n"dnd grown-ups, went in p~oces~ion' to th*e church. In" Goa', fiS Xavier~himsel'f writes, morethhn 300 childr~nt00k par~. On Sign-days the' church overflowed With people. The Para~vfis did not g0~ fishing on Sundays; in th~ n~orning they came t6 Mass~ and in the evening "there was a great reunion of all-the inhabitan~ "of,.the .~,il"-i lage, men and Women, "young and*' old, to recite .th'e prayers in thei~ langBag~. They ~how great p!~asure a'nd come With.al~icrity.'; .His class w'~s a living 'dialogue. The catechist did. not do 'all'the ialking~ Everybody was awake 'to what was h~ppening: "My brethre,n," he asked," "do you believe that "this our God,is the. only . true God?" They all replied: "Web~lieve.'". His teiiching was a lesson thatentered the soul by various sonses~ .The eyes'were cau.gbt by the ,ver~ fervor and, enthusiasm of the Santo Padre, th~ ears by the holy ~s'ong~, the.unariimou~resp6nse~ andthe clear repetition¯ of the formulae. India'ns for centuries were singing their Puranas. Xavier disc0ve.red ihat singin'g was"the thi~ng for the people of.the- East. In Goa, the custom introduced by Xavier was to be followed byhis'successors. In~ 1578 Father Francis Pasio ,wrote that he ha~l witnessed childreri singing the Christian doctrine" "in a bright and devout melody.'[ They sang it both in Portuguese and- Konkani. F~ther Barzaeus, who followed Xavier's method, closely, ¯wrote the following: "Children go about the street singing the Christian doc-trine: even the Moors go through ~he streets, singing the doctrine heard from ihe boys: in the name'of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Xavier himself gives testimony to what hap-pened in T~ernate: "It is.a reason to give thanks to Our Lord for the fruits which God obtained by imprintii~g in the hearts of His. crea-tures: canticles of His praise and honor, in a people recently converted¯ to His faith. It is customary'in Maluco, to Hear the boys in-the squares, the women and the girls day'and night in their houses, the workmen in the fields, the fishermen on the sea,. singing not~friv- Olous songs, but holy canticles as the Credo, Pater Noster, Ave Maria, ¯ the commandments, works'of mercy, and, the general confesSion.and . many other prayers." Xavier's class was a kind of drama where everybody~had to play his part.~ 'Raising the bandsor, extending' them, placing /hem on the breast-whilst s'aying "I believe," looking up to heaven . "these simple gestures k.ept the people active and intere,sted in. the class.~ ¯ ,- . 286 gi?acei''~ Fiai~15 i~ a gift of God~ih~r~fore it' is "tO' be bbt~ined b~ " prayer. CateChism~ class for Xavier ~vas,; d~i!(f0~,afi'~ exerciSe~:{~f prayer.~ Fie b~gan i~ with pr~yer, mingled it .w!thPr~er, and 'e~' .it With 'p~ayer.~ BefOre explaining a'comm~fidhaent, Xavier and :,audience a~ked Our:.Ladyfor.th~. grace, of unders(ahding. A~ the e6d . of hi~ explanation' 'thcy'~k.ed pard0n~' for pa~t faults 'agai~ist ti~ cbmmand,m~ent expl~'ifl'ed~' The cla~s "erid¢'d witfiI' prayer: "Let ia's sa~r ~even Paters an, d sev.en Ayes in honour of th~ Holy° Ghost that may help us, :to believe"fi~mly'wha~the holy¯ Catholic~ f~aith teaches fis." Somebody may object dsat" ~0rnmon :pr~yers."e~isily be.come mere ga.bbling. Xavier fg.restalled "the d~hger by alterh~iting' coin-moil and private., praye.r. "~The Paie~ and Ave'shduld be recited by everybody silently;)" He wanted to accustoin ::tl~em to personal, ,p, rayer. ¯ ¯ ¯ " ~. ¯ Lay-apostles . Xavier had expected hel~ from Et~rop~. ~et he realized their, even so, Parava laymen were indispen.sable.for the conversion and training of the .Paravas. He. thus. forestalled.6Ur pre~ent-da)i lay-apostolate in'.his Organization of the catechists." .In ,the v!llages he ~ Visite,d, l~e"left a copy of his Tamil catechi'sm' and-~ommisSioned a Christian,¯ the kanakapi'llei,, 'to instruct the people, The kan~akapiliei was~.0rdinarily.the-headmari of the village. :.:Xa~,ier wanted to ap, proach the :masses through th~ 'leaders., .~ ' ~ ,' . '" The kanakapillbi¯ (cat~chist~s) producedwonderful fruits. The~ represented the Father "in.his absence, report, ed_ abuses, inquired about impediments .for marriage, proclaimed the banns. "Father Francis in-stituted the .order of kanakapillei whith exists o°h this coast and" i~ has contributed so ~m'uch to the g'lory, of God and:the good of souls: He taught them the form or the rite of baptisin, hi enjoined on them to baptize~n case of necessity, to provide for urgen~ 'needs. Even today, they take care of the" Church, they are l~ke sacristans; they baptize without ~eremonieS, when it.is iargent; .they teach Christian doctririe ~twice a day, to the boys in the. morning and to the gi~lsfin~ the eve= ning, in Latin and in the language of (he 'counf~y"-; thus wrote Teixeira, one df the first historians df .Xavier: Of c0urs.e, the Para-v ¯as did not¯ under.sta~id.Latinbu, t' w l S" a"t ',. X" awer wished wasto accu's-tom them little,by little to tak~ean active'part in thelff~rgy.' The , 2:87 A.- PEREIRA. ~ " . Rt-~ie~ for Religi'ods organization of the kanakal~illei produced wonderful fruit even cdn-turies later. Father;Pi.er, re Martin wrote in 1700:~ "On,e of the things ~at. con~t.ri.bute ,too.st. t.o .make this Christianity so remarkable among others is the.diligence with which the small,est children areo,taught Chrfftian doctrine. This ho'l~y~ustpm has been kept inviolably the times of St. FranCis Xavier. He. was ,convince'd that the faitfi .would strik~ ~oots in the heaits Of' the inhabitants, if from a tender age. ~. h e y . were well" "i n"structed. " The k~n,akapille~! s.aved the faith among the P.aiav~as during the.time of the. pei'secution and in the ab-sence of pri.e.sts. ~. . . The support of the catechists v~as. one Of the great preoccupa-tions of Xavier. He.wrote to Father Mansilhas to obtain help from the giceioy.ThePa,ravas were.paying 400 gold pardaos "for the, slippers of the Queen of Portugal.r'. Xavier wrote to her to relin-. quish the "slipper money", for the benefit of the catechis.ts, remarking jocosely that the best slippers would be the children saved with that money. These would carry her to heaven. Another origin~al ~trait bf Xavier's method is.his h~bit of associ- - ating to his work Goan, Tamilian, .Travancorian, and Malsyan children. First of all:he believed in "the power of their interces-sion." He himself prayed to the children who died after he. had baptized them. He insisted with Father Mansilhas to make the chil-dren pray for .his intentions. Then he.made them share in his active apostolgte. He taugh~ them the prayers that. they, in their turn, might teachthem at home. "For a month I taught' them the prayers, enjoining on the boys to teach what'they-bad learnt in the school to their parents and to all the members of.the house and.neighbours." The children took to it with enthusiasm. They taught ,the prayers-in a pleasant way, for they "sang them," .They prgv~d their zeal in other ways. "They reprehend their parents,: when.they see tfiem practi~ing idol.arty . they come to inform me when such things are 'done . They burn the idols to. ashes." They. were bold enough to challenge the pagans: "they fight with the paga.ns"., and. Barzaeus wrote: "The.boys dis-cuss with the Moors and tell them that the~ cannot be saved, with-out baptism." . . , Xavier shared with the children even the power of. ~iracles. People called on him right and left. It.was.impossible for him to attend, to all: "So many., came to, cal_l me to their .houses to say some .prayers over.the, sick: ~.r .- and since it was not in_ my power~ to deny ¯288 November, 1952 XAV-IER THE CATECHIST such a holy'request. I halve settled the ma~tter in. a Way to.satisfy. all: I have brdered the boys who know .the p~ayers t6' go to the homes' 0f.'the sick and to gather all tl~e nhembers ~of the" hoi~se find tl~e neighbors: a~d to "say together the Credo ovdr and. over.again, telling the sick man to have faith, that he may be cured; and then ~he o~her' prayers. ThuS,,by'the. faith of the,members~of the house of the neighbors, and. o~ the si~k th~mselve,s, God Our" Lord g~anted many favours to the sick, rest6rin~ to them corporal andspiritual 'health. God has ihown great mercy to the ailing: He ~alied them tlJrough sickness, and as it were by forc~ He brought them to the faith." Adaptation 0 A last trait of Xavier's method, is his care to adapt himself to the people ofdifferent'temperam.ents and places. For Goa and t.h.e other Portuguese fo~ts he made himself a catechist a preacher, and a theo-logian. , For these places he requeste.d theolog!ans an.d.preachers." For the Paravas he made l~imself a goqd catechist:' .No need of much learning here: "The persons who hav'e no talent for preaching and confessions., would do much service in these parts'to the infi-dels if they had the corporal and spiritual force~, because there is no need of letters . let them be fit for many corporal works." Among the Japanese, Xavier became both'h ~atechist and 'a. savant. From the very beginning he spent time ahd ene'rgy to trans-late his more developed work, A Declaracao "da Fd, into.Japanese~=He wanted learned meii for Japa, n. ~ But Xavier pra~tlsed "adaptation" above all in his moral approach to the.pedple he had to deal with. T-he Indians easily over-look any imperfection in a priest except impatience. A priest, accord-ing to the Indian mentality, shouldbe a mirr6r of God's serenity. People came to'Xavier at odd hours ~ind children left him no'respite even f6r meals: yet. he never showed the slightest impatience: "When I reached the plac~ the children did not allow ine either to say mY office, or eat, or rest before I taught them some prayers," He wrote to Father Mansilhas: "Pray God to give you much patidnce ;to deal with this'pebple"; and in another letter: '.'L- ea~rn to bear their weak-nesses with patience, reflecting that if they are not good' now, they will be so some day." "I entreat you very much never, on an~r ac-count, to lose your temper with these troublesome people: and When ~ou have much.work and cannot satisfy alL .console yourself by. doing what you can. ~lways'bear with these, pe'6ple ~ith great 289" patience; but. if in:.som'e ¯case. kindness' doe~" not succeed., then~practlse that work'of mercy which"says,'tl-iou wilt chastise himwho'deserv~s to be chastised/" And to Fatl~er Barzaeus he wr0t~:."With this people of ,India',' much is.accomplished by exhortation,~ and nothing by force." ~ ¯ ' Xavier knew that mutUhl love .between the catechist and the pupils makes'his tea'c.hing m6re acceptable. He wrote'.to his c0m-panions bn the Fishery Coast: "Try. with all your might to make y6urself loved by'this people because if you are loved by them, you willpiod~ce much more fruit than if yoh are~ disliked by them. Again, I recommend you to take pains to make yourself loved by the people." It is worth noting ~he stress the saint lays ',not so much ¯ on' themis~sic~nary iovingth~ people but on the j~e6ple loving the" miss!ona,ry.~' People's love for the missionary will be an index of his lpve and devotiori to t~em. Love made up for . Xavier's d~fi-, ciencies, in the l~nguage, for example. It was one of the factors that made of him "ari incomparable catechist." A NEW INDULGENCED ASPIRATION By reason of special faculties granted to it by Our Holy Father, Pope Plus XII. ¯ the Sacred Penitentiary grants to all the faithful who have pidusly'recited th.e invo-cation, "Lord,° teach us to pray/,'" the following indulgences:' (1) a partial¯ indul' genre of three hundred~ ¯ days; (2) .a, plenar~ indulgence,¯ under the usual conditions, tb be gaine~l once a ~nth, if~this inyocation has been piously recited daily through-out ah entire month (April 30,. 195T, Acta Ap. 8edis,~1952, p. 389).' " Our readers will dovcell to'r~meml~er that Canon 928, § 2 states that "unles~ the contrary is expressly indicated, a partial indulgence may be gained a numbdr of times ada, y as, of~en-as the good work is repe~ted." Since the decree of the S:Peni-t. e, ntiary, contains no limiting clause, the partial indulgence of 30"0 days may be gained a.s~ often as the invoc.ation given above is repeated with a contrite, heart. ANTHONY., ~, PEREIRA. ," . ,was.,.°rdained. . a priest on November,, 11 of., the present, . year at.S't" Mary's theologate., Kurs.eong. India:~he is a':Goan.a.nd~ belongs to. the Mission of Goa. ~. A. HERBST is'bn the faculty of St. Mary's College. St. Marys, Kansas. AD~}C'i.~'~,"IS,"G~'I~.ALD KEL, L~.' a~i JEROME BREUNIG~'are members o~'the edi,," tbriai'.board of the"REV[E~" FO~. RELIGIOUS.~ ~ ~'; ~ ~" 290 The Commumon 0t: Sa'int s BELIEVE in the Holy Ghos~ the,.holy'Catholic Church. the Communion of Saints.'" Holy'Mo.ther .Church must think this doctrineof the Communion of Saints very important, and must want her children to bear it clearly in mind, and ~o'think.o.f i~ very ofte.n, since it appears so explicitly.in" the short profe~ion of faith we call the Apostles' Creed. The Church does because. Christ. ,. did., H~ came to found a kingdom to, which, all do Or can belong, the just find the unjust and the poor. and the unfortunate,.'~nd in which the little ones are the favorites. The. angels belong, too, and " r~joic'e when even,one sinful brother does penance. In the perfect prayer we pray as the members bf a family: our Father, give us, for-give us, l'ehd us not into temptation. " St.'Peter s~ys: "'You are a .chosen generation, a kingly priesthood, a ,holy nation, a purchase.d people . (you) are now the people bf God" ('I Peter 2:9-10). St.'Paul says: "You are all the children of God" (Gal. 3, 26). And St. 3ohn: "That which we have seen and heard, we declare unto you, that you also may have fellowship with us, and our fellowship may be with the Father, and with his Son desus. Christ" (I dohn I,. 3). ' "T'he Communion of saints is ~he spiritual solidarity ~vht~h binds together the faith.f, ul on earth, the souls in purgatory, and the saints in heaven.,.The participants, in that solidarity are called saints'by reason of their destination and of their partaking of the fruits of the redemption." (Catholic Encgclopedia, s.v.) The church triumphant in heaven, su~ering in purgatory, fighting on earth, constitute one church, .one society, 6he- family. The chfirch triumphant, suffering, fighting are as three orders'of the same society, three battle-lines of the same army, three branches of the same vine, three limbs of the same mighty ~ree. Christ communkates Hi~ merits to each irfdividual and there is in turn a mutual interchange of °good ottices between each "saint." "The Corn .m.union of Saims compr, ises, and is made fruitful, by, three great vital,.movements. A.stream of, ardent love flows from the Chu,ch;.Triumpha, nt to the members of Christ on earth, and thence returns, i.n,.c.9~ntless rushing brooks to the" blessed in heaven. A similar tratiic of lo~e takes place l~etween 291 t C. A~ HERBST, , ~ Review'for Religious the members of the,Church Stlffering and the Churchl Militant. And thirdly that same communion operates between the several ~members of. the Church Militant, producing those fruitful,!centres of life whereby th~ earthly fellowship is continually renewed.',~ '(Karl Adam, Tb~ Spirit of Catholicism, 115.) We on earth belong to the church militant. ~re must fight. We. are soldiers. We are sealed to this by ,the sacrament of confirmation ".through whithwe receive the Holy. Ghost to make us strong and perfect Christians and soldiers of Jesus Christ." In th~ ceremonies of the administration of this. sacrament the bishop gives us a slight blow on the cheek to remind us that we must be ready to suffer any-thing, even death, for the sake of Christ. Even a little child is a soldier in.the church on earth. We are soldiers in the church mili-tant, but soldiers without guile, without., malice, weak even, and foolish like God, "for the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness 6f God, is stronger than men~" (I Cor. 1 ~25). We, are invincibly armed With the eight-fold blessing of the beatitudes: poor. in spirit, meek, clean of heart, merciful; we mournl hunger and .thirst after justice, are peacemakers, suffer per, secution for justice' sake. , We fight with spiritual weapons, especially with prayer. -We .pray for one another here on ~arth. "Give us this day .our .daily bread, and forgive us ou_r trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.". We pray for one another that we may save our souls, for our father and mother and those dear to us, and for a sick friend. ask for favors and for .the conversion of sinners. We pray at Mass and ¯ offer it "for all those present and for allfaithful Christihns," for the holy father and the .bishop by name, and pause to make a special prayer'for the., living. It would be but belaboring the obviousto dwell at length on the intercession of the "saints" here on earth for one another and on the wonderful fruits that.comer from their, good offices in behalf of one another. T.he church' suffering ~s in purgatory, where the souls of, ~he just not yet fully ptlrified are cleansed. Nothing defiled can ~nter heaven. We cai~ help them. The Council of Trent teaches that "there .is a purgatory and that the souls detained .there are: helped by the suffrag,es of the faithful and most of all by the acceptable sacrifice Of the altar" (Decretum de purgatorio). So we follow them with our prayegs. We are still bound to them by the bond of love, by the bond of Christian charity, which is the blood-stream that vivifies 292 November, 1"952, THE COMMUNION O~ SAINTS the communion of ¯saints. Even death cannot break-that bond. "Love is stronger than death." "Charity never falleth away: whether pr6phecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be destroyed" (I Cot.' 13:8). "Charity which' is the.bond uniting the members of the Church.extends no~.0nly~to the living but also to the dead who die in chari~y. For charity, which is the life of the soul, even as the soul is the life of the body. does not cease." (S. Thom., Suppl.,,q. 71, a. 2.) "It is the'refore a hply and wholesome tl'iought to pray for the dead, othat they may be 16os'ed from their sins" (II Mach. 12:46). This has always been the mind of holy. l~other Church for all .her children, an~ today, as for alm6st two thousand years, ther~ fails f~rom the lips of countless millions the plea! "Eternal rest grant unt~ them, O Lord. and let perpetual light shine Upon them. May they. rest in peace. Amen." The poor souls can pray. of course. In fact. they have nothing else to do but be occup.ied with holy thoughts and desires. ""They thank, they sing the mercies of the Saviour. but always, with a back-. ward-looking towards past, sins. They petition,.but for others, and for themselves only that others may be inspired' by God to pray for them." " (3ugie, Purgatorg, 660 Gratitude would seem to demand that they pray for their benefactors. They are truly poor souls because they can do.little to help themselves and because they must suffer so much, but they g'do not forget, us, and:they will render us good for good. Not c6ntentmerely to. receive, they give. They give that which, the most miserable can .al~ays give. ~They give pra~/er.'" (Ibid., 72.) And since charity must be, mutual in the communion of saints as.elsewhere and the blessed interced~ for the souls in put-, gatory, these "repay the good offices of Heaven by ceaseless prais.e." Many think that ,Jesus and Mary and the saints and angel~ visit purgatory. After all, it is the vestibule of heaven. The guardian angels it seems, are especially at home there. St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi and St. Margaret Mary saw them there. Cardina! Newman pictures one bidding adieu to a soul there. - "Farewell, but not for ever! brother dear, Be brave and patient on thy bed of sorrow; S~wiftly shall pass the night of trial here, ' And I will come and.w~ke thee on the morrow." (Dream of Gerontius., 899-902). ~ith th'e m6rrow comes the dawn of eternal day. The, chur~fi .293 C. A. HERBST Review for Religi~u~ ,shffering passes into the church triumphant. God's children, mili-tant on earth, suffering in purgatory, ¯have c6me home to heaven. The Council of Trent commands that Catholics be taught that "the saints reigning with Christ ,offer their prayers to God for men, and that it is good and useful earnestl~r to invoke them: that their'prayers and powerful aid be sought to~ obtain benefits from God through His Sbn Jesus Christ Our Lord, Who alone is our Redeemer and our Saviour." (Decretum de invocatione Sanctorum.). The many saints assigned by the Church to ~ach day of the year to intercede for fis indicates how fictiv'ely we should be in communion with them. Each of us has his patron saint. ~ We pray to'them and to Mary, the queen of all the saint~, and to our guardian angels. And they pray for us. "And the smoke of the incense of the prayers of the saints ascended , up before Go.d from the hand of the angel" (Apoc. 8:4). How many graces and favors and miracles even they have obtained for u§ we shall never know till we meet them face to face. It is probable, too, ~hat the blessed can efficaciously intercede~for the souls in purga-tory. The elect might very well owe a'debt of gratitude to a sofil in purgatory for some service rendered on earth. And a patron~saint to whom we had great devotion on earth will hardly abandoh us when " We get to purgatory. The communion of saints is a most consoling doctrine. It takes the sting from death, that most~ final and dev~astating ~of events. 'Holy Mother Church insists that on .the day of a holy. person's death we are "celebratin'g ?/is birthday" into heaven, l~ather, mother, brother, sister 'are born ifito eternal life. They hive simply gone'. home. That is what they were" born for. They have left the lowest degreeof the Church, the church militant, and have entered a higher, the church suffering, where they are confirmed in grace and'charity, where eternal life is infallibly.insured to them, and where there is also great joy. Soon the3~ will pass gloriously into the church tri-umphant. We have not lost them but gained them. They are waiting for us there. They ar~ watching over us, praying for us. They love us more now than they ever could on earth; We\are dearer to them now than ever; they can help us far more now. When we pass. into the church suffering their ~rayers will not ceas~ until we come home with them. That will be a wonderful reunion. We shall'never be ¯ separated again. "'Commu6ion of S.aints--what a glad and blessed light illumines it!' It is the hidden treasure, the secret joy of the Catholic.' When 294 November, 1952 THE COMMUNI~)N OF SAINTS he thinks on the Communion of Saints his heart is enlarged. He pass?s out of the solitariness of here and of there, of ye.sterday tomorrow, of I and thou, and he is enfolded in an unspeakably intimate communion of spirit and of life, far. surpassing his n~eds and dearest wishes, with'all those great.ones whom the grace of God hasforged from the refractory stuff bf our humanity and raised' to His height, to participation in His being. Here are no limitations of space and time. Froth out of the remote ages of the past, from civi- .lizations and countries of which the memory is now only faintly echoed in legend, the saints pass into his presence, and call him ~brother, and enfold him with their love. The Catholic is never alone." (Karl Adam, The Spirit of Catholicism, 139, 140.) FOR THE SOCIAL APOSTOLATE Catholics Speak on Race Relations, by Rev. Danid M. Cantwell, is a valuable handbook of quotations on interracial justice and charity. 64 pages, with a good index to the qd~tations, Price: 25 cents each for orders of less than fifty; gener-ous reductions for larger orders. Order from: Fides Publishers, 21 W. Superior, Chi.cago 10, Illinois. Social Thought of the American Hierarchy, b~y Wilfrid Parsons, S.d., is a con-cise, easy-to-read, 24-page summary'of the social teaching of our American Bish-ops. It outlines their constructive teaching on such things as unions, industry councils, rent, human relations, .public morality, divorce, censorship, and family life. Price: 25 cents each; graduated reductions for orders of more than five. Order from: Social O~rder, 3655 West Pine'Boulevard, St. Louis 8, Missouri. S'ocial Order, the recent!y-founded publication of the Institute of Socia~ Order, now' announces special rates for two- and three-year subscriptions.- It is pubiished monthly, except duly and August, and it is 6f invaluable assistance to all.who are engaged in, or otherwise interested in, the social apostolate. "Price: $4.00, one year; $6.00, two years: and $7.50, three years. Order from:.Social Order, 3655 West Pine Boulevard, St. Louis 8, MiSsouri. BOOKS~FOR NOTHINg? We have been asked about a new "crusade," the purpose of which is to stock tee community libraries with new books--~-" for almost nothing. The scheme is too complicated to describe in detail, but it seems to come to' this: you send out one new book, add your name to, a circulating list, and eventually you will get 256 new books. The ide.a seems to be that ever~tone who~ sends out the~ one. new~ book will get 256 in return. We'are not versed in the higher forms of mathematics, but according to our simple arithmetic, this adds up-~o magic. 295 .No!:es on.Race Relat:ions Gerald Kelly, S.J. =~'HE Most Reverend Astone-Chich.ester, S.J., Vicar Apostolic of ~' Salisbury, in Southern Rhodesia,~presents an excellent analysis 0 of the "Problem of Race Relations" and its proper solution, in The South" African Ctergg Reoiew, for ~:ebruary, August, and No: vember, 1951. For the future of Africa, and indeed for the whole world, he s~¢s, there must be a solution to the race problem which is just to everyone. ~ InAfrica, the problem is intiniatel~, associated with its tremen-dous resources which are so badly needed by the rest of the world. To develop these resources native labor must be used. This calls for. bettering the health conditions of the native populations, .and this cannot be done without education. Education in turn leads to de-mands for better economic .position, and this. will call for a better political standing. If the political standing is not given, the result will be discontent and strife. In his various articles Bishop Chichester develops the points men- .tioned above; I~hen he outlines first a false, then a true, solution ~to the race. problem. The false s91ution'is one that does not recognize the intrinsic value of the non-European as a true human .b.eing; that sub, sfitutes the utilitarian 1~rinlip.le of. "enlightened self-interest" for the rational and Christian principle of mutual sympathy and respect; and that uses religion, as a mere tool for conveniently settling human problems. The third article outlines the prindples on which the true solu-tion mus['be based. For the most part. these principlds are but a re-statement of basic human rights and duties;, but the last. principle is somewhat unusualand might be .a subject of meditation for ~11 of "It is through God's providence that diverse races and varieties human beings come into this world, each of them intended tO add its peculi~ir goodness to the w0rld. T.herefore we ought,_ as a duty to God, to look at-the good qualitie.s in others and tq.praise them, the more partic, ularly as'~they are different from our own)' Bishop Chichester then~ ~oes on to show that Euiope~ns and ¯ non-E~ropeaia~ in. Africa are interdependent: first, materiallyl because 296 " - ~' NOTES ON RACE RELATIONS the European need~,the~.African labor and the African ne~ds "the ~ European's knowledge, of technique and. his m.achiner)i: and also spirituall'y. "The Afri,can," he iays, '.'needs the integrity, .self-control, sense of responsibility which is the'i~heritance of a sound 'Eurgpean tradition. But the European needstheAfrican, and can learn cheerfulness, p'atience ,and humility from him." Toward the end of his third article, the Bishop returns to the question of "racial superiority"--the false attitude on which no satisfactory sdlution Of race problems can be based. No matter how . seemingly affable or even generous the white man is, he will never ' solve the race problem unless he tre~ats the non-white With ge'nuin~ respect, a respect built on the consciousness o~ personal dignity. This ds aptly brought out by the following words of a Nigerian African: ¯ "Some Europeans wonder why: the hitherto ignorant African w~6m thdy. have bedn kind enough t9 educate soon takes up ,a hostile. attitude towards them. It is not due to ingratitude; it is not due to failure to'~ealize wh~t difference for thd bdtter his contact With the European has made for him. In many cases it is the reiult of wounded bon0r. This may be a personal opinion; but a close exam, ination Will reveal that it lies.beneath many racial prbblems today." Another s~atethent on Race Relations, issued by all the Arch-bishops and Bishops of South Africa, is published in The Catholic Mind, September, 1952, pp~ 572-76. The entire statement is well worth, reading. .The point that impressed me as~ most interesting in. 'tills statement is. the Bishops' realistic facing .of.t,laeir problem by dis-tinguishing between essential human "rights, and what they ca!! secondary rights. The first category includes:' "the right-to life, ~'dignity, sustenance, worshil3, to the integrity~ use and normal devel-opment of ¯faculties, to ~vork and the frt~it of work, to private owner-ship Of property, to sojourn and' movemen'f, to marriage and the procreation and education of childrdn,:'t0 assoCiation with one's.fel-low- men." The Bishops insist that no one should be deprived of th~ ,exercise of these rights:" . By secondary rights the statement means such things as partici-pation in political and social life. Non-Europeans who are fitted for such participatioh are entitled to it. But the Bishops admit that large numbers of the non-Europeans are not yet sufficiently developed for-this~ kind 6f equality, arid the duty of the Europeans in this case is to help t15em in thi~ cultural development. What do our own Bishops say about tl~e race problem? One GERALD.KELLY . . . ~ Review [or Religious .who is interested in the answer to this question will do well t~con, suit Catholics Speak on Race¯ Relations, by Father Daniel M. Cant-well. In this little 'booklet of ~xce~dingly quotable quotations Father Cantwell has sixty-t';vo statements by Popes and various members of the 'hierarchy. Thirty-seven of these are made¯ by our own hierarchy. Representative of the latter are such brief pointed remarks as these: "Among the saints there is no distinction of race or color" (Car-dinal Stritch) ; ".The race of which it is our duty to be conscious is the entire human race" (Archbishop Cushing); "Is it not Catholic doctrine that when a brother is excluded,¯ re-jected, segregated, it is Christ Who is insulted and humiliated?" (Archbishop Lucey) ; "I doubt very much whether in the field of jbb discrimination we can educate unless we also legislate" (Bishop Haas on FEPC) ; and '-'Jim Crowism in the Mystical Body of Christ is a disgraceful anomaly" (Bishop Shiel). Father Cantwell's booklet is not limited to episcopal statements; it also contains apt quotations from priests, Sisters, laymen, Catholic papers, and°so forth. It is divided into four parts. The first part concerns the fundamental truths of the unity and equality among men. The second refers to human rights: life, work, living family wage, economic freedom, ~education~ housing, neighborhood peace, esteem and honor, marriage, and ~ or~hip of God. The third part concerns various viola.tions bf. these basic rights; ;ind the fourth part deals with positive ways of promoting interracial justice. It is a very valuable booklet, a. re~al "must" for all who are interested in the great cause Of interracial justice and amity. For details about¯ the price, see page 295 qn'thi~ number of' the Revietv. Foremos.t.amQng the race problems in the United States is the so-called Negro problem. On this problem, the annual statement of our hierarchy, issued November 1 i, 1943, contains the .following directive: "In the Providence of God there are among us millionsof fell~w citizens of the Negro race. We owe to these fellow citizens, who have contributed so largely to the development of our country, and for whose welfare history imposes on us a ¯special Obligation of jus-tice, to see. that~ they have in fact the rights which are given them in 298 November, 1952 N~)TES ON RACE RELATIONS our Constitution. This means not only political' equality, but also fair economic and educational opportunities,.a just share', in public welfare projec'ts, good housing without exploitation, and a full chance for the social development of theirrace." (Cf. Huber, Our Bishops Speak, p. 118.) Social Order, .for February, 1952, contains an analysis if a re-port on family incomes for the year 1949. It is interesting to read some of the items of this report in the light of the Bishops' statem+nt lust°quoted. For inst~ince, 10.4 per cent ofth~ white families had incomes under $1,000:~ whereas 30.9 per cent of the non-white fami-lies were in this bracket. 13'.7 percent of the white families' .incomes were between $1,000 aiad $1,999: whereas 28.6 per cent.of the non- . white families fell within these limits. "For incomes from $2,000 to1 $2,999, there were 20.5 per cent of the white families, and 22.1 per cent of the nbn-white. Finally, as regards incomes exceeding $3,000 (the or~lgt bracket, incidentally, which includes income thai would correspond with Catholic teaching on the family living wage), 55.4 pqr cent of the white families attained this level, as against 18.4 per cent of the non-white families. Pessimistic though these comparative statistics are from the l~oint of view of interracial j~ustice, the economic picture is not entirely Without brightness, at least asregards Negro employment. "Fortune, for July, 1952, has an article entitled "Negro Employment: A Progress Report," b.y John A. Davis, which shows' that ~luring the last decade the Negroes in our country have made coiasiderable gains in employment. But these gains, says l~Ir. Davis, "were possible only through FEPC. They cannot continue without further legis-lation." This agrees with the opinion of Bishop Haas, previously quoted in these notes. All of us, no doubt, would prefer some kind of voluntary program of fair employment practices. We would prefer "education" to "legislation"--but actual facts show that it is not a sirhple matter of "either-or"; we need both'the education and the legislation. Mr. Davis's report shows that legislation has ac-tually produced good results where a plan of Voluntary action was ineffective. A'ccording to him, the recent gains in Negro employ-ment are largely attributable to the fact tha't in eleven states and twenty-two .cities, embracing sixty million people, business is now operating under some kind of Fair Emp19Yment Practice laws. In'"The Church Segregated" (The Priest, July, 1952), 2ohn Richards sees the segregation policy as practiced within th~ Church 299 GERALD K~LLY ,~" through the eyes of a Catholic Negro f~riend. This friend refuses to contribute to a drive for'a .new "colored'.' cburch'because be says he,' does not approve of segregated churches. He resents the fact t~at som~.Cat.holic schools willingly take Protestant white pupils, but exclud~ col6red' Catholic children. He believes that state laws requiring segregated education do not apply, to Catholic schools; 'and even if they did apply the Church should be the first.to Oppose such laws. He is ~distressed when priests join the Knigh~ts of Columbus, because he says that in his locality the Knights of Columbus is.a lily, White organiza'tion: an~ if "the Negro parishioners are not good enough for the local council, then the local council is not good enough for the pastor of these parishioners." Also, he sees no'valid reason for referring to the segregated colored parishas the Negro mis~ sion; nor any~more reason for efitering "Negro""in the Baptisma! ¯ register than there is for noting "black hair." , "Theqntegration of Negroes in Catholic parishes, in the South would drive lukewarm Catholics away from the Church." This rationalization leavesdohn'Richards' friend cold---oi', to shift the figure of 0speech, it makes him hot. The Church's insistence on ~the. di;cine" law regarding birth control_ and divorce drives lukewarm Catholics away; too but the doct~:ine is not watered down nor the practice of virtue mitigated for their sakes. Why should :the .policy be different regarding the inherent injustice of the segregation policy? To all the friend'~ omplaints, I say "Amen." At its best racial segre'gatio.n isan ugly thing: practiced in any' specifically Catholic institution it is at its worst. And this brings me back to Father Cantwell s little booklet, tothe following quotation from a pastorai letter'of Bishop Vincent Waters, of Raleigh,,N~C.': : " "To believe ~hat one race or nation.is superior to another in the Churcl~, or before God, is heresy and should be condemned. ~'"Equal ,rights are.accorded, .therefdre, 'to,every race and every " nationality in afiy Catholic churc~h, and within the church building itself eyeryone is given ~he privilege to sit or kneel wherever he de-sireS, and to approach the Sacraments Without any regard to race or. ~ nationality. ; . "Pastor~ are responsible for the observance of this practice." TEN-YEAR INDEX More cbpies 9f the Ten Year Index of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (1947.- l~95.!)~oare still available at one dollar per copy. Kindly enclose payment with the oider from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, S12 Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. ° 300 qo,ooo Francs "or Lire Adam C. Ellis, S.~I. AS SUPREME ~ administrator' and steward of. all church prop-erty (canon. 1518) the Roman Pontiff has the duty of regu-lating the' administration of all prop~erty owned by moral persons in the Church (dioceses, parishes, religious houses, and the !ike). ,Just as the state regulates the, civil corporations which it brings into existence and safeguards their financial'transactions, so the Code of ~Canon Law contains many prescriptions regarding the property of moral.persons in the Church. One of the most important of.these.is~the limitation put upon such moral persons with"regard to the alienation of property and the incurring of debts. Law of the Code Canon 1532 lays down a general law for all moral .persons in the Church, limiting their power to alienate property'to the sum of 30,000 life or francs, and canon 1538 extends this limitation to the incurring of debts: canon 534.applies both .these" general laws to religious moral persons (institutes, provinces,, hofises) .and protects it With other detailed requirements: These canons requir.e the permis' sign of the Holy See in order to alienate property or to borrow mon.ey when the sum involved excdeds 30,000 francs or 1ire. When the Code of Canon Law was published in 1917, canon~st~ almost unanimously interpreted "'30,000 francs or life" according to the gold standard which then prevailed in Europe. As far back as 1865, Belgium, France, Italy, and Switzerland had established the Latin Monetary Union in which it was agreed that all four coun-tries" were to issue coins of equal foim. weighf, and value (gold con-tent) to be equally usable in all four countries. According to thi~ gold standard, fran.cs: whether Belgian~ French, or Swiss were truly equal both among themselves and to the Italian lir~ Hence the com-mon reference througho.ut the canons of the Code to "francs o? 1ire." Most.of the couniries of Europe followed the standard of the Latin Monetary Union in ,oract~'ce. Some had coins of the same value as the franc or lira, others of equivalent value. Thus in 1917 ;the- 301 ADAM C, ELLIS i~et~iew for Religion,. ~0,000 francs or life of the cknons regarding alienation or ~he in-curring of debts were evaInated as follows: 30,000 Belgian francs French francs STcciss francs Italian fire Spanish pesetas Bulg.arian leva Greek drachmas Serbian din~rs 24;000 English shillings (1,200 pounds) 24,000 German marks 27,000 Au~strian crowns 6,000 U.S. dollars 6,000 Canadian dollars While all the coin-s listed in the first column above had an actual gold value Of $.193, forpractical purposes they were e~caluated at'5 to the dollar, and thhs the sum of $6,000 was arrived at for the united States and Canada. The EngliSh shilling and the German mark were evaluated at 4 to the dollar. The,Roman Curia never formally declared that "30,000 francs Or life" were to :be taken as gold francs or life. Nevertheless, in practice, the Sacred Congregations of Religious, for the Propagation of the Faith, and of the Eastern Church, and the Sacred Consistorial Congregation permitted their clients to interpret these sums on the basis of gold, and f0r the United States and Canada it wasc6m-monly held that one did not need to get the permission of the. H01y See for an Jalienation or for a loan unless the sum involved exceeded $6,000 in gold. : Two world wars within a period of twenty-five years disrupted the moneta_ry systems of the nations of the world. In our own country, on January 31; 1934, the 'American gold dollar was devaluated from 100 cents to .5906 cents. Hence a 100 cent gold dollar was worth $1.692 of the present 59 cent dollars. As a mat-ter of ~act, all. gold currency had to be turned over to'the U.S. gov-ernment, and. no 59 cent dollars were ever coined. However, at that time,,it was estimated that henceforth the 30,000 lire or fra.ncs of theCode corresponded to !0,000 of the 59 cent dollars, and that one needed permission from the Holy See for aliena.tions and loans only When the transaction exceeded 10,000 present day. dollars. In Europe, especially in Latin countries,¯ currency 10st its prewar ~alue and i~ was difficult to determine jus~t what the equivalent bf the 30.2 November, ~1952 :' 10,000 GOLD FRANCS OR LIRE" .30:000 francs, or'fire was in th~ paper money .of the day. ~s a result' some persons went to the. extreme of never asking the permis-sion Of the Holy See. for alienations and loans. To remedy the' situ-ation, at least for the religious of Italy, the Sacred Congregation of Religious recently required that PermiSsion had to be" obtained for alienations and loans whenever the'amount in~,olved exceeded one million fire. - - The New Decree Finally, to provide a general re.medy for the situation, the Sac~d Consistorial Congregation issued the following decree on July 113, 1951: Since~he'change~in value o-~ "both metal and paper mon'ey has created particular'di~culties in certain place~ regarding the applica-tion of the pre.scription of canons 534, .§ I and 1532, § I, 2° of the Code of Cadon Law,. the Holy See has been requested "tO. establish'a suitable norm. Wherefore, having considered" the matter carefulhj, His .Holiness, Plus XII by Divine Providencb Pope, has kindly v6uchsafed to ¯ determine by this Decree of the Sacred Consistorial C~ngregation that, as long a~ present conditions last and subject to. the will of the Holy See, recourse must be had to the same Apostolic See whenever {here is question of a sum of money which exceeds ten thousand gold francs or life. There can be no doubt about the" fact that, for. the present least, the Holy See has taken the gold st~ndard"as~a norm 'for.the amount of money rcqui~ing the consent of the Holy See for aliena'- tion of church property and for tile incurring of debts. Our present problem is to translate."10,000 gold francs or. lire" into. modern paper currency. The most obvious way would be to take $2000 gold dollars of 1914 to a bank and ask that they be converted into present day dol-lars. The banker probably would call the police, Since it is against the law for: a private citizen to have gold cdin in' hi's possess~ign. But supposing the banker were a kindly soul and forbore tutning",one over to the law,-he would be allowed by law to give only .$2~000 paper dollars in e~change for the gold. " :: ¯ Another w, ay would b~ to (ake 10,000 gold. frhncs and .get .,the value in actual Belgian ~Sr French francs, and th.en.redute it to presen,t day dollars. F.atber f~mile Berg}i, S.J. (Revue des Communaut~s Re, ligieuses, 1951, p. 166), tells us that at.the end of.World War. IEin. ¯. : 303 ADAM C, ELLIS 1945 it w'as estimated.that ~he 30,000,francs for Which one needed aft indult fromthe Holy"See r.epresen, t.ed from,900,000 tO 1,000,000 actual Belgian f~ancs. Sirice tl~e recent decree now requires recourse for l(J~000 gold tirancs, this would amount to one third the sum .give~ above,-that is, to at iea~t 300,000 Belgian francs,-and'to 2,200.~300 French francs ~es16ectively. Reducing these sums. to American dollars ~t the cfirrent rate of ~xdhange, we get a minimum of $6,000 at 50 Belgian ~rancs" to the dollar, and $6,285 ';it 350 -French francs to the dollar. ':Father' Joseph Creusen, S.J. (Revue des ,Communaut~s Reti-gieuse~, 1952, p.-66), c~lls attention to the fact that the term "gold franc" may mean either the purchasing po.wer of the gold kilo; or its worth on the official exchange, or on the free market. He prefers to assess the value of the gold franc on th.e basis of its buying power immediately before World War I in 1914, but does.not tell uswha~ this would be in terms of present day dollars. ~ Finally, Father George Jarlot, S.2.,,a professor~at the Institute of Social S~iences of the Gregorian University, Rome, informs us that th~ pu~rchasing power of 10.000 gold francs in 1914 was equal to about $7,000 in American money.today (Periodica, 1952. p. 156), ¯ This is also th~ sum arrived at as the equivalent of the "10,000 gold francs,or life" bit other Roman canonists, according to private infor-mation received by the writer. , ~. Conc'lusion: Father A. Guttierez, C.]k,I.F. (Commentaridm pro Rbligiosis, 1951, 258), w~hile not" hazarding,ar~ opinion Of his own as to the value of "10,000 gold francs or lire" thinks it would be desirabl'e to have the Holy See determine-the equivalent for each ¯ country. Until this is done, we.may safely follow Jarlot's opinion a~nd~ consider 7,000 present day dollars as the equivalent of the 10,000 goldfrancs or life set as the norm by the iecent decree of- the S~c'red Consistorial Congregation. Whenever. therefore,-there is que'stion of'the hlien~tion of property or of the incurring 6f a debt, thd'value of which exceeds $7',000, the permission of the Holy See must.b~ obtained in order that the transaction may be valid. We take this occasion" to remind our readers that the permission nec~essary may now be obtained from Hi.~ Excellency, the Apostolic Delegate in~ ,Washihgton, D.C., ~vhen the sum involved does not exceed a half. .million gold dollarS;~ pr6vided the other conditions prescribed by .the la~v a~re fulfilled. (See Bou~caren, Canon Law Di'gest, Supplement 1948;,I3.~.131, under i:anon 858). ~ 304 Address ot: PoPe Pius XII .Religious Superiors [Tl~is address was given tO the supekiors genera! of institutes of geligious4women. on Se~teraber 15, 1952, at the conclusion of their first international congress.] . ELOVED daughters, We extend Our fatherly greeting tb you, who have come in such large numbers 'to the~ International Congress of Superiors General of O~ders and congregatisris of,' Women, and who, at the endof your labors, on th~ ¯point of putting into.effect the results.of your deliberations, have come't0, ask of.Us , the blessing of the Vicar of Christ. When the Sacred Congregation of Religious proposed calling this ,Congress to Us, Wefelt obliged to think'it over. An enterprise o'f in'ternation~il scope such as this always demands a considera.ble. penditure of time, money, and effort. Nevertheless, We had to acknowledge its necessity or, at least, its Usefulness~ Indeed, We felt OUrselves obliged td ~,ield before the solidity of the reasons pre-. sented; and the imposing assemblage~ which We have before Our eyes, your countenances, your entire appearance tell-Us that great good ~¢iI1 has been at work these days. ~ Yes, beloved' daughters, the echoes of the Congress which follow i~s conclusion hav~ proclaimed how-seriously you regard the service of God and flow desirous yos are of .spendin.g yourselves for your religious families and for the Church. With this. in view, you hop~e to receive fiom .Us a word of consolation, 6f eficouragement, and of direction. " Just one" year ago, We t~:eated in detail a series of questions. to~iching on ~he prog.ress of teaching orders and congregations and their adaptation to present conditions. Some, if not mos~, of thi~ in-structions We gave on that occasion hold equally true for all -other religio~s congregations. The experiences of the year .which has elapsdd urge Us to draw your attention to the directives which¯ We formulated at that time. We ask you to conform to them cousage-ously when your sisters and yot~r own experience tell you that. the time has come tO take intelligent account of aspects of contemporary life. We have,, moreover', a very special .reason for .speakin~ to you. You know that orders of wom~n are now facing a very grave crisis. We refer to the decline in .the number of vocations. Most assuredly,. POPE PlUS XII ' Reoiew for Reli~lions this crisis has not touched all countries. Even .where it has raged, its iritensity is not e.verywhere l~he same. 'tSut right now in one group of Euroi~ean countrie~ it i~ alarm, ing. In one region, where twenty years ago the religious life of women was in full flower the number 'of vocations has dropl~ed to half. And yet in times past serious diffi-culties impeded the vocations of girls, whereas iia Our day external ~onditions seem to 'impel them thither and there' would seem to be a iaeed for guarding against imag!ne.d x, ocations. We do not intend a detailed discussion of this crisis which is causing Us such deep anxiety. Another occasion will furnish. Us . with the opportunity~ Tod~y We wish only to address those, b~ they priests'or laymen, preachers, speakers, or Writers, who hax, encit a word c~f aigproval or of praise for viriginity pledged to Christ; who, for year~, in spite of admonitions by the Church; ~nd contrary;' to her mind', have accorded marriage an essential superiority 6ver the virginal state; w15o even go so far as to present marriage as the only rfieans capable of assuring.the development and natural perfection of human personality. Th~se who speak and write thus mu'st take. cognizance of their responsibility to God and to the Church. must reckon them amongst those chiefly responsible for a state of affairs of which We cannot speak without sadness. When, through-outth~ Christian world'.ahd everywhere else. there, re-ech0 at)veals ' for Catholic sisters, it is quite ordinary to be com't~elled reluctantly to give one negative answer after another. Yes, even long;sthnding . establishments--hospitals and educational institutions must be closed from time. to time--all because vocations do not eqtial the " needs. As for yourselves. "h~r'e are Our recommendations. With voca-tions in their present critical state, see to it that the religious habits, the manner of life, or the asceticism of your religious families do not form a barriei or a'cause of failure in vocations. We speak of c'ertain usage~ which, while they once had meaniog in another cultural milieu, are meaninbless'today, and in which' a truly good and cou-rageous girl would find only obstacles'to, her vocation',, In "Oul statement of last year We gave various examples 6f this. To repeat briefly on the question of clothing: the religious habit must always express consecration to Christ; that is what everyone expects and desires. Bu( the habit should alsb conform to modern demands and correspond to the :ne~ds of hygiene. We could not fail to express.Our satisfacti6ff--when, in the.course of. the year, We lsaw that sortie con-" 306 November, 1952 " ADDRESS TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS gregations had already put some of these ideas into practice. In a word, in these things that are not essential, adapt .yourselves as far as reason and well-ordered chhrit% advise. This said, We propose to you, beloved daughters, two matters with Our most earnest commendation: ~ 1) A motherl~t spirit as regards the direction of your sisters. It is undoubtedly true, as psychology claims, that a woman vested with authority does not succeed so easily as a man in measuring and bal- ~ancing strictness with kindness. All the more¯ reason fcir ~cultivating your maternal feelings. Convince yourselves that the vows have re-quired a great sacrifice from your sisters, as from yourselves. They have renounced family, the happiness of marriage, and the intimacy ¯ of the home--a sacrifice of. much value, of decided importance for the apostolate of the Church, but a sacrifice all the same. Those of your sisters whose spirit is nobldst and most refined feel this separation most keenly. The words of Christ, "He who puts his hand to the plow and then .looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God," find complete and, even today, unreserved application here. "But the brder must replace the family as far as possible; and you, 'the superiors gen-eral, are called up.on first and foremost to breathe into the community life of your sisters tile spirit of family affection. Also, you yourselves must be maternal in yo, ur external attitude, in_ your written and spoken words, even if, at times', you ha'~e to exercise self-control; above all, be thus in your inner thoughts, in your ,judgments, and, as far as possible, in your feelings. Every day ask Mary, the Mother off Jesus and our Mother, to teach you to be motherly. 2) The formation o~ ~tour sisters for the v~ork and .the task which is incumbent upon them. Here let there .be no parsimony; take a broad and generous view. Be it a question of education, pedagogy, the care of the sick, artistic or other activities, the sister ought to 'entertain this conviction: "My superior is making pos'sible for me a fotmatibn which wlill put me on an equal footing withmy colleagues in the world." Make it possible also for them, and g!ve them the.means, to keep their profession, al .knowledge and training up to date. On this point We have also elaborated dr/ring the past ¯ year. We repeat it in order to underline the importance of this re-quirement. for the interior pea~e and foi the work of your sisters. "'" You come, beloved daughters, from all parts of th~ world, Prom near and far. Tell your sisters that We thank them for their prayer, 307 "POPE PIUS XII of ~vbich We have snch great need; 'for their good exampl'e~ Which helps" powerfull~ to confirm so many.Cath01ics in their faith and to lead to the Church ~o many who do not belong to it; for their work in the service of 3iouth, the sick and the poor, in tl~e missions, in so many other w, ays~ all of which are so valuable for the growth and strengthening of the reign of ~lest~s Christ over souls. Tell ~our sis-ters. that'We give~ them all Our affectibn; that their concerns are Our'. concerns~ .their joys Our joys; tha.t, above;all, We wish for them the two-fold strength of courage and of, patience in the work of their own perfection and in the apostolote which their' Divine Master and Spouse has assigned them. As a token of Our patqrnal, benevolence ~nd a pledg~ of- the tri-umphant grace and love of ~the Divine Heart; We grant you, beloved daughters, for you.rselves, your ~isters, and your worksl Our Apostolic Benedktion. ADDRESS TO TEACHING SISTERS NOTE: The exhortation to the first international Congress of Teaching Sisters (September 15. 1951) to which the Holy Father refers in the foregoing address is i~ublished: in The Catholic Mind, ,June. 1952, pp. 376-80. The .following are a.mong the p.ei~tinent passages: ~ . "'The religious habit: choose it in such a way that it becomes the expression of inward naturalness, of simplicity and spiritual mfdes'ty. , Thus.it will e~dify every-one, even modern young, people . : "Followed in letter and spirit, your const~tut,0ns, too, facilitate and bring the Sister all she needs and must do in our time to be a good teacher and educator. This also ~applies to purely mechanical matters. In many "countries today, for example, even Sisters "use bic~ycles.when their work~demands it. At first¯ this was something' 'entirely new, though not against the Rule. It ispossible that some details of the school schedules, certain¯ reguiations---simple applicatifns of the" Rule--:-certain cus-toms. which were, perhaps, in harmony with past .conditions but which today° merely hinder educational work, must be adapted, to new circumstanc:s. Let supe-riors and~the general chapter prb~eed in this matter conscientiously, .with.foresight, prudence and cour.age and, where the case demands, let them not fail to submit the proposed changes to. competent ecclesiastical authorities." COMMUNICATIONS ON INTERNATIONAL CONGRESS Superiors and ,others who were privileged to attend the International Congress of Superiors General of Orders and Congregations of Women in Rome would 'do a great service~to our readers by sending their 0bservatio~s .on the congress. 308. ues ons and Answers M~'y a religious have the interest on his i~herifance? Suppose amounts to $300 a year: may he use this amount for Masses, hls'relatlves, or fo'r charlfy?. A religious~with: sole,mn yows loses all right to own, so there ~an be question here.only of a religious With. a simple, vow 6f poverty. He.ma.y .not.have the interest on his,inheritance, because canon 569, § 1 explicitly obliges every novice before taking first vows, to give away the usufruct or annual income deriving from his perso.nal pr6perty, unless the constitutions provide otherwise. The novice is free to give his annual incorn~ (interest on money, stocks, .bond~, rents from real estate; and the like) tO any. person., physical or moral, v~hom.he Nay choose; but h~ is forbidden to use it for himself, or to distribute it himself annually. The whole tenbr of the history of this canon is to the effect that the beneficiary.of the income :is .to .b~ determined upon once for all. Should the beneficiary die, another person may be appointed in his place; but in order to change the beneficiary determined upon at the'time of first profession, the per-mission of the superio.r is required unless the constit~utions provide otherwise (canon 580,.§ 3). We ~ave been invited to s~nd in our requests and compla~infs which will be proposed to the general chapter to be held within the n~xt 'three months. Are we obliged to slcjn our.names to these suggestions, or wili it be sufflclentto give them to on~e of the .delegates to the general chap-ter. and s.ay that these a~'e the requests of a.number~ of rellgious? Unless the constitutions or ~ustom require .that such requests or complaints must be signed, they need not be signed. Usually .they. a.re given to one of the delegates to the gen.er~al chapter who, in turn, at the proper time, turns them in to the special committee appointed for the purpose of screenin, g such requests and' complaints. Those that are considered worthy of the attention of the general chapter are pro-- posed to it in. due time during the chapter of affairs.,. At the end of thechapter, before a vote to adjourn is taken, any delegate may ask that a request or complain.t whichhas been turned, in but has. not - been submitted to the general chapter should now be read, and the 309 QUESt'IONS AND ANSWERS ,7 chapter will then vote first.on Whether the request or complaint is to be considered or not. If it is rejected, that is the end of the matter. If the majority vote is .for }onsidering it, it will then be considered in the same Way as the other requests or complaints, which were already, submitted to the general'ch.apter, ~30~- ~ By ou~" constifutlons We are directed to make one hour of~menfal prayer each day. In some of our houses it frequently happens .that .the Community Mass follows the first half hour.~of prayerJ The second half hodrwill then be made after thanksgiving, during which a second =Mass is sometimes said. Is attendance at this second Mass considered as fulfill;ncj the obligation of the Constitutions? In ma.ny religious communities it is customary for the communit~r to assist at the Mass of a ~isiting priest, usually .on a voluntary basis. There "does not seem to be any objection" to performing one's, spirit-ual duties, such as meditation, rosary, and the like during this second Mass. " Review for Religio~s " We are to have our general, chapter in January. " Is it proper for older delegates to ins~'ru~÷ ÷he youncjer Sis~'ers how ~'o 'vo~'e, "l-ha~" names of capable Sisters to them? " It is highly, improper for the Older delegates to instruct the younger Sisters how to vote in chapter. This is expressly forbidden by canon 507, § 2 which .states: "All must abstain f~om seeking votes either directly.or indirectly for themselves or for.others.':; What is allo'wed by certain c6nstitutions, and should be used with moderation, is to question other members, of the cl'iapter regarding the abilities of certain Sisters who have passive 'voice, that is,° are eligible for office. This should be done in a specific manner, for in-stance; by asking: "Is Sister N.N. firm in her manner of operating, does she ~aye good judgment, is she patient, kind, and the like" rather than ask: :'Do yo9 think Sister N.N. would make a good superior. One might ~sk a Sister who is very well acquainted with the indi~ vidual .in question: "Do you know of any serious.imp.erfection on th~ part of Sister N. N.' which would prevent her from being a good superior?" However, the Sisters of. tl'ie chapter thus in.terrogated are to answer tt~e questions proposed to them, and not offer any general advice not asked for. 3i0 November, 19~ 2 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Is the gblden jubilee in religion counted from date of entrance Or of first profession? There are no regulations in canon law re.garding this matter. Each institute follows its own custom. We l~hink, that, all things. coiisidered, tl~e jubilee shot]ld be counted from-the dal~e" o'f entrance intothe novitiate, since that is the first official step ~f dedication in religion to Christ's service. From" a practical viewpoint; fift~i years is a lon~ period of time, and should begin to run as soon" as possible afte'r" entranc~dnto religion, that is,' from the day of entrance into the novitiate. Cor~stitutions/requiring l~hat the gol.den jubilee be counted from the first temporary"prof.ession, or even frbm per.petu~l profession, may be changed by the proper authority, provided that'a majority 6f the members assembled in g~neral chapter request such a change~ Customs regard!rig the golden jubilee may be changed by'a majority ; ote of the chapte.r Without referring the matter to any higher authority. --33m What is the mind of the Church regarding Sisters "of |he second class," that is, lay Sisters?. Does this not savor of class distinction? Certainly the cl~ss of lay Sisters and Brothers savors of class dis-tinction. However, before condemning the Church for introducing such a distinction; it will be well to recall"that th~ Church take~ so-cial conditions as she finds them and seeks to better thefia gradually, Up t6 the begifining of the twentieth century, ~he only opportunity of bettering their condition was offered to the youth of the poorer classes oi~ Europe by the Chufchin the ranks of her clergy .an'd reli-giou. s. In modern times when the world has become more alert to social justice, and the opportunity to re~eiv~ 'an educati'on has become m6re common, the Church will readily grar~t permissi6n to abolish the class of lay Brothers and Sisters. This is especially true in the case of non'-dlerical i:ongrega.ti6ns of Sisters or Brothers only. The permi~- sioia, may be had for the. as~ing~ l~ovided that a ma'jori~r of the riaem-bers'of the gen.eral chapter reqfies~th~ Hbly See f6t it. In the case of a diocesan dongr~gatiohl ~he 16"c~il 6rdinary can gr~an~ the, p~rmissii3fi: 3il -ommunica ions Reverend Fathers: -It was nice to find an ar~ticle about the National Congress for Re-ligious in the REVIEW, as I had been looking for something in print about it." I had looked in.vain in several periodicals and papers, but with the "exception of The Santa Fe Register, I found notl4ing. I was privileged to be one of the few contemplative ieligious )resent. Another abbess from our monastery in Cleveland was there and a few other cloistered religious. The Congress for Religious was a most impressive and unique gathering, uniting as it did in one purpose, one endeavor, the. supe-riors of many religious orders of men and women. It would be impossible, .without a "record, to even hazard a guess at the number of Orders and Cong'regations that were represented. ¯ All the papers which were read and the discussions, etc. at the session for religious women, wdre compreheniive and manifested deep study and Understanding of the subjects treated. There was not enough time in the three days of the Congress to discuss thoroughly the subjects" chose~a or to cover more subjects. There were also the special sessions.~vhich proved very satisfactory, but some ~loubled up on others, so that only too often it was impossible not to miss one for another, both being conducted at the same time in differdnt buildings. That the subject of "prayer in the li~e of a religious" was com-pletely omitted seemed regrettable to.me. The priest ( I do not re-member .who h~ was) who brought up the subject of the contempla-tive life, and its having so great "an attraction for the youth of our day, left the subject woefully unfinished. That there is a great influx of vocations among the Trappists is evident, and leads one to hope that the future .will prove them to have really been true vocations. However, I do 'n0k believe the youth of our day in general shows a greater attraction for thecontemplative life than those of the past. There is a moderately larger number of v6cations in our day than in the past: but not in proportion to our increasing~populi~ti0n. In fact, taking' into consideration the fact that our Catholic population, our schools, colleges, etc. have vastly increased in the past 40 y'ears, the number of vocations to the contemplative Orders have not increased in prOportion. .: The statement which was made about the typical temptation Of 312 COMMUNICATIONS the active, and contemplative.religious is, I dare Say, not true. ¯ While active religious very often do 'long fo5 more timd for prayer, and the more fervent they are, the m6re they desire ~his.,-it is not.true ~hat the . temptation of the contemplative is to do more. No one but a cbn-templgtive. sh0uld make a statement touching so deeply the contem-plative soul, The contemplativ.e does r~ot feel that she dods not do ,enough, but that she does not pray enough, and .this~ after living many years the cloistered contemplative life. I ihould have liked to speak on the subject, but the paper had already gone over its allotted time, a'nd the subject could not be handled in a few sho~t sentences. " A life.of prayer does not comprise only the hours.allotted .to that _exercise, be it vocal in the recitation of the. Divir~e Office or mental, but it covers every hour of the day. Monastic work is prescribed by the Church for all c0nte~platives, notas a rest or cessation from prayer,, but as a means for uninterrupte.d, continuation of interior prayer. The contemplative knows that until her life is perfected by degrees in this uninterrupted interior p.rayer, not indeed a torturing of_the mind, but a silent, peaceful, interior communing.with Gbd in love, sbehas not yet attaiiaed to anyt~h~ng like, ~/high degree of that which she has set herself to fetich. Any woik, be it manuaLlabor or' simple domestic duties, be it of the literary or artist.ic, type, which fills in the tifiae befGeen the'hours of prayer.proper, must always be for the contemplative but a continuation of that interior union with God ¯ which was begun in her prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. Prhyer is not one department and .work another. The work of the contem-plative is as valuable as her prayer, and her prayers as. valuable, as her work. Her temptation is not to do more, but to fed dissatisfied that. that her life is not a mord uninterrupted union and converse with her' Di~vine Spouse, the striving for the perfection of this.~being her one aim. There is an unseen world which to her is very real. The inci-dents of daily-life are mereaccidentals which are. of valud or~ly so far' as they can purchase for her more p~rfect union with God. This unseen world is as real to her as the things she can ~each out and touch, and touching it she can make every action of hers Prayer. I am speaking o£ pra~er,~ -not pra~/ers. The Di~cine Office, thoughoit is a vocal prayer, can yet give to the. contemplative, one of the most valuable occasions of the day for interior prayer, when her soul can remain in closest union with God, reaching 0ut'to Him in: loving, peaceful attention, whether she understands and grasps the meahing 313 COMMUNICATIONS. Reoieto for Religious of the wor'ds or not. o,. - .-. , . . ¯ ~ .The contemplati_ve:life should not be giamorized. This gives ¯ young people a mere admiration of it or a passing fervor at learning of its grandeur, which is not a vocation, Only too o, ften postulants applying have a mistaken idea of the contemplative life. picturing it as a quiet restful going to prayer and enjoying its peaceful hours.with little else to do. This is not what the contemplative life demands. It is a life of prayer indeed, but.united with the self-effacement and self-abnegation necessary to bring the soul to a detachment from ~elf and self-love, which alone can lead to higher union of the'soul With God. This is not a pleasant process if it is to lead to solid growth in holi- ¯ ness. It is not what enriches us but what effaces us that leads to union with God. But,'neither should we suppose that the, way is all darkness and strewn with thorns. The soul also comes to stretches of light and joy when she stands very.close to the Divinity to which she is wedded. Our Lord is ever a loving Spou.se who will not be outdone in generosity. Much more can be s~iid on the.subject, but I wrote this much be-cause I felt an explanatign was due since ,you .repeated the statement in the REVIEW which was made on the floor at the,Congress, and I feel it has given an incorrect impression. There isAlready a great deal written about the contemplative life Which should be reviewed or corrected. The trouble is few contemplatives write,and what is writ-ten is too often merely theoretical by those who have not lived the enclosed contemplative life. SISTER M. IMMACULATA, P.C. (Abbess) SETS OF BACK NUMBERS AVAILABLE To :meet the numerous requests for back numbers the following ligt has .been prepared. It contains the number of complete sets available.for the different years, together with the prices. The price of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS was rai~ed to $3.00. in 1951. ' " Sets at $2.00 Sets at $3.00 1945 " 8sets 1951 . 17.0sets 1948 ., . 87sets 1952 . ~. 130~ets 1949 . . 115 sets ' 1'950. . . . 75 sets ~ ~" Please order from the. business. ot~ce: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison, Top~.ka, Karisas. 314 A =h onument: t:o Vincen!: Jerdme Breunig, TH]~ recent Uook, Saints for Now, edited by Clare Boothe Luce, has two articles on St. John of the Cross and none on St. Vin-cent de Paul. Yet Vincent de Paul is pre-emin, e.ntly a modern saint, a "saint for now." In Social Action (July, 1952, p. 135) J. Correia-Afonso writes.: "Vincent.de Paul is indeed a modern saint, not chronologically., but as one of the first of his contemporaries to understand the new times ushered in by the R~naissance, and to consider them with a just and sympathetic discrimination; one of the earliest too to observe and to seek a practical solution for the social questign, which in" its different aspects has beiome the problem of our own days." (Social.Action is a'periodical published monthly by the Indian Institute of Social Order, St. Vincent St.,Poona 1, India.). The "omnipresence" of the Daughters of Charity; (more. than 40,000 strong) in the cities of the world, the numerous Vihcentian seminaries, the De Paul hospitals and schools, as well as the other congregations, associations, and works of charity that derive directly from or were inspired I~y St. Vincent may have rendered the saint too' obvious to be singled out. Recent tributes to the ~ipostle of charity are not wanting. The realistic'spiritual grandeur of the film, "Mon-sieur Vindent," is a notable instance. But the monument, "more lasting than bronze"is the fifteen-volume ~ork of Pierre Coste, C.M. This includes eight volumes o~ Correspondence, four of Con&fences; and a three-volume Life and Works of St. Vincent de Paul. The work is translated by'Joseph Leonard, C.M. The last seven volumes mentioned above were published, by the Newman Press during the present year. (See page 325 for prices, etc.) THE LIFE AND.WORKS OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL Reviewing Pierre Coste's biography in the Month when the book first appeared in the early thir.ties, Archbishop Goodier "wrote: "He has already given.to us, ig eight volumes, the saint's correspondence; he has now published in three volumes more, ~ study of the saint and his l,i e which is not likely ever to be superseded,. It is a masterpiece of research, 6f eruditionSand in ~he full-length portrait of SL Vin-cent de Paul which it~ depicts; si~aringhim in nothing, "~s the saint himself would not want to be spared,_, it allows u's to watch this Very -315 ~" JEROME BREUNIG Re~'ie~ for Religious ¯ human being, if ever there.was one, grow¯ into one of the most glori-ous heroes this world has ever produced, the pride alike of man and of .the Church, one of those in whose canonization the veriest pagan must rejoice." , The biography can be divided into three sections that are not co-terminus with the three volumes. First is traced the early-life 6f the s~int.ahd the first beginnings of the associations he founded. Then, in turn; follc;ws a detailed study of the growth and expansion of each. The third section treats.of his work at the French court, his. efforts against Jansenism, and his care of'the Visitation" Order after the ~dea'th of St. Francis de Sales: gives summary studies of his sanc-tity, his daily order, and the like: and concludes with. an account of his d~ath, beatification, and canonization. The r~al drama and challenge of Vincent de Paul's long life (1581-1660) is h~ightened rather thin dimmed by the careful ex-cision of legends such as the story of his exchanging places with the galley slave. The meager record of the early years is sufficient to m- .dica~e the initial struggle of a gifted poor boy who had to "work his~ way thiough college" by teaching boys. Not in accord with the pre- ¯ scriptions of Trent, Vincent was ordaified at twenty years of age. Providence .afforded realistic post-ordinatio~ training. The youfig priest.was ~capttired by Moors and sold int6 slavery in'Tunis. It was almost tq¢o years before he escaped to France. ~ The. turning point from mediocre to high sanctity seems to have been Vincent's promis~ to consecrate the rest of hi~ life to theservice of the'poor. Shortly afterwards when the Master of'the Paris M~nt gave him a personal gift of 15,000 livres, the dedicated priest gave the entire sum to the Charity Hb~lSitai on the very next day. Whether.pastor of Clichy or Chatillons, chaplain t6"the De Gondi Family or to the Queen, Vincent de Paul fulfilled his promise to help the po.0r.Whenever he recognized a serious need., whether spiritual or material, he tried a realistic approach, often not particularly orig-inal, experimented, made recommendations, and finally outlined pro-cedure~ .that would meet the difficulty. The Congregation of t~e Mission "The establishment of the Congregation of the. Mission is the result of the sermon at Folleville:' it sprang from it as the tree does from the seed" (I, 70). This mission sermon givdn on the feast of the Conversion of St. P~ul ,and exhorting the. yillager.s to make a 316 November, 1952 MONUMENT TO M. VINCENT general confession, was so abundantl¢ blessed that it.clearly under-lined the need to provide for thousarids bf similar missions and a congregation¯ of priests specially dedicated'to g!ving them. Incompetence and worse among the clergy of France~was another problem Vincent helped solve. First he prov!ded retreats for priests and ordin~nds. Hd saw, however,¯that a more radical remedy Was needed. Adequate seminary training had to be provided. -The Con-gregation of the Mission undertook and is continuing these special-ized sacred works for th~ sa'nctification of the clergy. Relief for the poor began in the same simple.manner. "On a cei-taifi Sunday, 'just as I was vesting,to say Mass, a person came to tell me that, in an isolated house a quarter of.a league away. the whole family lay ill, so'that not a single ond of them could come to the as-sistance of the others, and they were in Such dire straits as cannot be ,,expressed. ,It moved me to the depths of my heart. I did not fail to speak feelingly about them during the sermon, and God, touching the, hearts of those who were listening, caused them all to be moved to compassion for the poor afflicted people. "After dinner, a meeting was held in/the house of a good lady in the town to see what help could 15e given and every single one of. those present was quite~prepared to go and see them. to console them ,by talking to them and'to help them to the best of their ability." (I, 82.) The care of this familj, led to the care of'.others. After three months experience St. Vindent formed" an association to be called the Confraternity, of Charity. Its members were to be known fis the Servant~ of the Poor or of Charity. "It was to have desus Christ as its patron and its rriotto was to be: Blessed are the merciful as my Father is merciful} or, Come, ye bles'sed of my Fat'tier and possess the Kingdom prepared fo? you from the beginning of th~ world, for I was hungry and ge gave me to eat, I was sick and you visitbd me; for what you have done to theleast of thesq, {you have done unto me.'" (I, 83.) The Daughters of Charity Again,,this' confraternity became the model for similar ones,¯, From them developed the group known as the .Ladies ofCharity" who gave generously of time and money to h~lp the .poor. As the work of these groups expanded, it .became¯ clear that a permanent group of Full time dedicated nurses and teachers was indispensable. With the help of, Louise de Marillac, a "Lady of Charity." Vincent ' 317 ,JEROME BREUNIG Reoiet~ for Religious de° Paul established the Daughters of Ch, arity. This new congregation marked a great innovation in the reli-gidus iife. "The Daughters of Charity wdre not, like the members of ¯ :other communities of women, confined to "their homes; they were perfectly free t6 walk about the streets, and this was even a duty in-~ asmuch as their functions called them to leave their houses and enter. those of the poor. 'Your monasteries,' St. Vincent said to them, 'are the houses of ~he sickf ybur cell, a hired room; your chapel, the " parish church; your cloister., the streets of the city; your enclosure, obedience; your grille, the fear of God; your veil, holy modesty!' " .(I, 345.) The. Vincentians (C.M.) and the. Datighters of Charity are the largest but not the.only religious families Vincent founded. He suC-ceeded St. Francis de Sales as d~rector of the Visitation Order an~ helped found the institutes of th~ Daughters of Providence, the Daughters of the Cross, and the Daughters of the Holy Family. These congregations helped car.ry on the ~far-flung spiritual and cor-poral works of.mercy that were first initiated by M. Vincent. The Fou'ndlings Artists like to depic~ St. Vincent trtidging through slum areas leading one child by the hand and carrying another. They are not, drawing ~maginary scenes. In a diary kept by one of the Sisters at La Couche we read:. "3anuary 22, M. Vincent a~rived about eleven o'clock at night;, he brought us two childrea; o_ne may be six days old, the other is older. The poor little things were crying. The Lady Superioress has handed them over to the nurses. ~ . . ~' "'February 7. It i~ very, cold. M. Vincent paid a visit to our community; this holy man is always on foot. The Superioress asked ¯ him to rest, but he hurried off at once (o his little childiefi. It is marvellous to listen to his beautiful words of kindness and consola- ¯ tion. These little creatures listen to him as to.a father. Oh! what does not this kind, good Monsieur Vincent deserve! ';I have seen his tears flow ~oday. One of our little ones died. 'It is an angel now,' he explaiiaed, 'but it is very ha~d not to see it any more.' " (II, 263- 4.) An appeal of Vincent to the Ladies of Charity is recorded: "And no~; Ladies, s.ympathy and charity induced you to ad.opt these poor little creatures as ~?our children; yo.u have been their mothers ac-cording to Divine Grace ever .since their mothers aceording to nature 318 Novemb~r~ 1952 MONUM.ENT TO I~I.VINCEN'~ abarid~ned them. Cease to be their mothe.rs and become their judges; theirlife and death, i~ in your h~nds; I am i~ow abo~t to collect yoflf votes: the time has come to pronounce-their sentence and to ascertain whe.ther~ you desire any longer to be merciful tO them. They will live, if you charitably take care of them, and on the other l~and, they will die and infallibly perishif you abandon therfii experience does.- not allow you to think otherwise." (II, 222.) Chaplain for the Galle~ts "Nothing could give a bettei picture of hell than the hulks.[of the galley slaves] at Marseilles," wrote a biographer (I, 117). Into these tombs for the living, .Vincent went as an angel and consoler. His own experience as. a prisoner and a slave helped him to use his positior~ as chaplain-general of the galleys, to which General De Gondl bad appointed him, to alleviate the conditions of'the convicts. At Vincent's bidding, the Bishop of Paris sent a pastoral letter asking alms to prepare better quarters for the prisoners. The sp!ritual .minis.try among tl~e prisoners was not neglected: sacraments were ad-ministered and missions were sometimes arranged for them. The apostle of charity ektended his care to .other. needy classes besides foundlings and .prisoners. The sick poor in the over-crowded hospitals, orphans, the insane, fallen woinen, he.lpless beg-gars, and others were to. share the warmth of his contagious charity. A separate. ~tory is the relief woik of Vincent, that almost beggared the Parisian benefactors, to assist the provinces of Lorraine, Picardy, Champagne, and L'Ile,-de-France when they were torn by maraud-ing armies in the wars of the Fronde. Saving assistance was also provided for the Irish refugees who fled to France" during Oliver Cromwell's ~eign of terror. Spiritual Works Among the reforms in the spiritual apostolate that Vincent helpedpromote was punctu, ring the pompous, empty eloquence that ¯ had. become quite widespread.' Sentences like the following were commonplace: "I am about to grasp the intoxicating chalice, replete ¯ with SO much excellence, to replenish .your hearts through the orifices of Yourears." "May the gentle zephyrs of the Holy Spirit. waft the, .'sails o'f my thoughts.over the sea of this great audience to lead and bring it safely to a fair haven." (II, 206). Vincent promoted sim-plicit~ y, in form and tone. "Motives, nature, and means, all set out simply and cl.early--sucb is Saint Vincent's 'little method!' " (I!, 319 JEROME BREUNIG " ReuietuforReligious 217).He had no use for bitter sarcasm. "Bitterness "has never served.any 6ther purpos'e'than to embitter" (II, 218). Of greater impoFtance was his clear.standagainst heresy. ".The Jansei~iSts have never forgiven Saint Vincent for the pr6minent pait which he played in ~ecuring-the condemnation of their' doctrines" (III, .180). Vincent's sound faith, arid Cath01ic sefise kept him clear of this heres@ that won so many of his coun,trymen. Mqre-. over, his influential position at the French court enabled himo.to help expose the false doctrine in his bwn .country. A loy.al son. df the Church, he was also instrumental in ¯h~lping bring the matter to Rome where the heresy Was oflicially condemned. THE CONFERENCES OF ST. VIN'CEN~ DE PAUL The multifarious good works of Vincent de Paul ¯might give the impression that he was merely a man of action. The Conferences, in four v01um~s, modify this impres.sion by revealing the inner.spir-ituality which was the mainspring of the exterior activity. Not having a" Wire-rec, ording machin'e or even the Gregg short-hand method, the first Daughters of Charity pieced together what they heard, sometimes with the help. of Monsieur' Vincent's memor-andum. Of all the conferences Vincent gave duriiag aperiod of about 25 years (1634:1660), only 120 have been preserved. The handwriting ot~St. Louise de Marillac is recognized in twenty of" th~ transcriptions. Fragmentary and occasional as they are, the con-., ferenCes reveal an. inspiring and unmistakably high spirituality. It must be remembdred that When these conferences were given the Sis-ters were simply an association of layw0men who did not live in" a convent but usually in hired rooms in the particular parish wheie they worked. " " The "'Method" in the Conferences.° An interesting and, perhaps in some meagure, imitable feature of Vincent de Paul's conferences was the method. The Sisters were not ~nly .informed.when the conference was to be held, but they were told .what the subject matter was to'be.° Besides, the~ were to be prepared to give their own thoughts and to iinswer questions on th~ subject. The first time the method was introdiaced iff recorded:. '"In the t~ompany. "Sir, disunion seems to me to be like a building that is falling ddwn~ . . . JERk)ME BREUNIG Revie~,'for Religious (~ Another Sister said : "'Union is an image of tb~ most ~Ble~sed' .~rihity which is made up 6f three dlvme Persons, United.:b.y love. I~ we are thoroughly well united; we shall all be ,of one will and in complete harmony. Disunion, on the contrary, gives us a picture of hell, where the dem~ns live in perpetual discord and hate." ,(I, 87- Thus'each of. the group added to the conferende. These "conver-sati0ns" ai ~iven in the' Con(erences may stem toopat and perhaps too:good to some modern readers. This mhybe due to the editing. The idea seems to be a sound ont. After hearing the members and answering any questions, Monsieur Vincent would give a fuller treat-ment of ttie subject. The conferences were not monologues an'd fulfill the real meaning of the word conference, a meeting of minds. Inspiring scenes such as the following happened more than once. "The Sister who spoke on the good use of admonitions added: 'Recently .I.was so proud that, when my attention was called to a fault by _one of my Sisters of whom I had asked charity, I manifested displeasure. I. very l~umbly'ask pardon for having done ~o and als6, Sister, I'ask.for yours, who p.e?formed this act of charity towa'rds me.' At these words, the other Sister knelt down and said: 'It is I, Sister, who ask your forgiveness. I did not admon'ish you as I should have done, foi there were others present.' " (I, xv.) The Co£tent "" P~re Coste summarizes the content of the conferences in his troduction to the work. ;'His addresses chiefly dealt withthe voca-tion of Daughters of Cha)ity; their functions; thepoor, the sick, the foundlings; their daily exercises: rising, prayer, their general and par-ticular rules; the Christian virtues and those ¯which .go to make up. the spirit of the Company: simplicity, charity, humility, mortifica-tion, loVe~of work; the" frequentation of the Sacraments; Confession and Communion. Scandal, temptations, envy, admonitions, and the Jubile~ were also subjects of excellent conferences. He devoted several conferences to the virtues of deceased Sisters, and Sisters who were sent to the. proviricds were not allowed to.depart~ithout a few words of advice. The elections of officials .was'~ilso an occasion for a biief address. The. choice of subject was dictated by circumstances~ the needs of the Company, and the suggestions of St. Louise de 322 . November, -1952 MON~IMENT TO M. VINCENT rillac." (I, xii.) , St. Vincent had much to say about prayer. "Pray'er is th~ soul of our souls--that is to say, that what the soul is to the body, prayer is to the soul . The soul without prayer isalmost like a body without a soul, in what concerns the service of God; .it is without feeling, movement,, and has only worldly and earthly de-sires. I may also add that prayer is like a mirror in which the soul ¯ can see all its stains and disfigurements; it notds what renders it dis-pleasing to God; it arranges itself sb that it may be conformable to Him in all things." (II, 49.) Very practically, Vincent associates success in prayeb with re-tiring on time, getting enough sleep, and mostly with prompt rising. "Risi,ng is the first act of fidelity we render to God:. ~. the rest of the day. is determined by rising in the morning. Befiev~ me, there is no us~ in fighting with your pillow; you are always bound to lose" (iI, 22). "If sleeping during prayer becomes a habit, then one should, in order to get rid of it, stand upright, kiss the floor, or renew one's attention from time to time because, if we do not remedy this bad habit, it will return daily. Ar.e you not aware that there is a devil whose business Jr'is to put people to sleep when the~ are at " Pra.ger?" (I, 29.) ¯ He also suggests the use of pictures of Our Lord and .the saints as a help durifig prayer. Spiritual reading as a help to prayer is highly commended. "You must never fail to find time to read a chapter'of some devout book; it is very .easy and most necessary, for, as in the morning you" speak to God when at prayer, so God speaks to you when you read. If you wish your prayer to be heard by God, listen to God when you read. Theie is no. les.s' happiness and profit in list~ning to God than there is in speaking to Him. Hence, I strongly recommend you not to fail to do so, as far as you can and, if possible, to spend a little time in prayer afterwards." (I, 105.) The most difficult mortification is proposed to the Sisters. "Mor-tification is. also necessary, Sisters, if you are to endure the little suf-ferings that are bound to crop up in the course of your' exercises, and. the complaint.s tba.t those poor people may make about you. When .~he gentlemen in charge of the wounded pay them a visit, they may perhaps hear complaints about you; the wounded may tell them that you have not looked after them, that you ldft them all alone from morning until go6dness knows what hour. Very well, Sisters, ~ll that must be endured without complaining; do not seek to justify 323 JEROME BREUNIG yourselves, oh! no, never!" (IIL~ 3.) "The last means of loving God continually, and for ever ismsuffefifi~:' ~o suffer sicknesses, if God sends them; to suffer calumny, if we are unjustly .attacked; to suffer interi.orly the trials God sends us to test our fidelity''~ (II, .105) A witness to much deterioration in religious life,-Vincent was opposed to the'~ very Shadow of la'~ity. "The third thing-which.- causes.us to lose the love of our "vocation is-~-I shall not say im-p6rity, 6h! no, never, b.y~G6d's grace h:is this sin, even been men-tioned-- but merely' a certain sort of unrestrain.ed liberty. On~ is quite, pleased to meet men; one. is not a bit disturbed at listening to them.; one replies to and.,.enters into conversation, with them, even with one's'confessors apart from confession; on'e passes th~ timd in .speaking of matter~ that are neither necessary nor urgent, but just tO keep up a conversatmn. (II, 89.) F rstDaugbter ot: Charity" Among the finest conferences are those which treat of. the lives the first members.' .Here is "an abbreviated account of the. "First ' Daughter.of Charity": "Margaret Nas'eau, of Suresnes, was the first Sister who had the happiness of pointing out the road to our other Sisters," both in the education of. young girls and in nursing the sick,° although she had no other ma~ter: or mistress but'God. She w~is a poor, uneducated cow-herd. Moved by a powerful inspiration from Heaven, the idea occu'rred to h'~r that she would instruct children and so she bought an alphabet but, as she cduld not go to school for in-struction, ~he went and._asked the parish priest or curate tJ3 tell her what were the first four letteks, of the, alphabet. On another occasion, she asked what¯were the next four, and so on for the rest. Afte/~, Wards, whilst she minde~l her cows, she studied her lesson . "She afterwards made up her ~mind to go from village to village instructing the young . It was xiery .remarkable that she und~rto01~ all this withotit money or any other help save that of Divine Provi-dence.': She often fasted for whole days, and dwelt in .places bf which nothing remained but the walls. The harddr she worked at t~eachiJ~g the children, the more th~ ~village folk laughed at and' calumniated her. Her zeal gre~w more ardent . She provided for the education of some young men who had not the means of doing so . These ybung men are now good priests. Finally, when she learned" that there was a Confraternity of Charit~y'ifl Paris for the sick poor, she went- there moved by a desire 324 November, 1952 BOOK REVIEWS to be employed in this work, and although, she ~reatly desired to cc;ntinue instructing the young, nevertheless she laid aside this char-itable. work to take'up that of nursing the sick poor, which she be-lieved to be more perfect and charitable. This was, indeed, the will of. God, for He intended her to be the first Daughter of Charity and servant of the sick poor in the city of Paris. She attracted .to the work other gikls whom she ha'd helped to detach from all earthly vanities and to embrace a devout life. " . She Was most patient and never complained. Everybody loved be~ because ther.el was nothing' in her that was not lovable. Her charity was ~o great that she died from sharing her bed with a poor plague-stricken girl.". (I, 71-3.) THE LIFE AND WORKS OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL. By Pierre Coste, C.M. Translated by Joseph Leonard, C.M. Pages' in Volumes: I, xxiii -f- 608; II, xi-]- 500; III, xii -]- 563. Newman Press, Westmin-ster, Maryland, 19S2. Three-vohme set, $1S.00. .CONFERENCES OF ST. VINCENT DE PAUL TO THE SISTERS ,OF CHARITY. Edited by Pierre Coste, C.M. Translated by Joseph Leonard, C.M. P~acjes'in Volumes; I,xxii -1- 322; II, vi -~ 310; III, vl -f-, 317; IV, xi -b 340. Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, 19S2. Four-volume set, $16.00. For comment on these volumes see the article, "A Monument to Monsieur Vincent," beginning on page 315. THE IGNATIAN WAY TO GOD. By Alexander Brou, S.J. Translated by William J. Young, S.J. Pp. xii-1- 156. The Bruce Publishing Com-pany, Milwaukee, 19S2. $3.7S. This'exposition of the spirituality of St. Ignatius was written by Father Brou mainly to disprove a charge that Ignatian spirituality is "rigid and excessively methodical." He begins his work with a briel/ study of St. Ignatius himself and his directives on' prayer to his young Society, and,goes on from there to show that the spirituality of St. Ignatius is in all essentials that of the Spiritual Exercises. The purpose of the latter is to prepare one to seek the will of God and, having~found it, to embrace it. And ¯prayer for St. Ignati6s has the. same end. Father Btou says: "Prayer, according to St. Ignatii~s, is. 325 BOOK REVIEWS~ ' . Revi~w'f~or Religious a'combination of personal activity and of surrender to the inspira-tionof God, of method and of liberty," all of Which points he provesfrom the-bobk of the Exercises. ~ "Intriguing chapters in the development are: "The Exercises and the Graces. of P'rayerl . Id'quod ; olo," in the' Spiritual Exercises:, "The Men"formed to great hdliness by the SpiritUal Exercises; and, finally, in an Appendix, "The Liturgical Life and'the Spirituality of St. Ignatius!' a refutation of the fancied opposition between Igna-tian Spirituality and the Litfirgical Movement. A shcond App~ndi~ contains the~ following." "A D.e.scription of the Spirituality of St.~ Ig-natius," "The Holy See and the Exercisesof St. Ignatius," "The Method of St. Ignatius j and those of Louis of Granada and of' St. Francis de Sales," which shows the striking similarity between ¯ them. Each chapter of this excellent treatment of Ignatian Spirituality is bulw~rkdd by abundant references to sources,, collected in a special section in,the back of the book so that anyone ~ho wishes to.inves-tigate the subject more.deeplyhas start'ing leads for doing so. ~ -~.' ~UBREY 3. REID, S.J. SAINT THERESE AND SUFFERING. By Abb& C~ombes. Translated from the French Edition by Msgr. P; E. Haileff. Pp. rift -k 130. P./.Kene-dy &iSo.ns, Ne~v York, 1951. $2.S0. '" '.'Shadow on the Earth" mea.nt human sufferings'in the'fine bo.ok of.the same title by Owen Francis .Dudley, And anyone .wh, o i~ s.uffering.or~ has suffered kno~3vs that suffering.i~ truly a heavy shadow coming betv~een God .and us and putting our faith in Him to. a.severe test. We think'somewhat as follows: "God is all powerful. and He:loves me: And my, needis ov.erwhelming. Why doesn't'He help me?" TO any and all .who are asking a question of this kind, we strongly recommend Saint Th3rb'se and Suffering by Abb~ Combes. The author undertakes to make known St. Th~r~se's attitude to-wards sufferin~ as revealed in her own words and acti.ons.' "Tl~e Carmelite Saint of Lisieux is shown to be a sufferer from her earliest days. From.her First Holy Communidn she begins to welcome ¯ suffering and even to'find mysterious happiness in it. From then on suffering meant to her the price, she had to ,pay, to love Our I~ord greatly and to win souls from hell for Him. ' . , But.finally Th~r~se-tells us that she;~ .no longer desires ~.uffe.rings,i 326 November;,.195?_ ¢, BOOK REVIEWS but ':'the perfect accomplishment of the will 6f God~in my so~l." However, the Will of God for her is further sufferings, .indeed her great~st cross of suffering, for from the beginning of April, 1896, tintil:her death on September 30, 1897, she endured almost without break or respite severe trials of her faith in God's Goodness, and in her belief in heaven: see~rfiingly all her prayers went unanswered and the ravages of the disease' which would bring about her death were causing her intense physical, pain. And so St. Th~r~se died, as did her Savior, on the cross--b~ut how quickly came the Shower of Roses which proved that Th~r~se was,"living h~r heaven in doing good on earth," as she had promised. ° Now what do. we learn from St. Th~r~se about suffering? One point we surely notice is thai suffering did not in any degree distort her character. Suffer greatly though she did, St. Th~r~se will always. be one of the most lovable, attractive, and "inspiring Of the saints. In her life We learn" again the old truth that suffering is often a most precious gift of God. It merits His love. It helps to save souls. It gives~im something very special for which He can reward "us in heaven. Then most important of all. for us, as for Th&~se, as even fo,r the Son of God Himself. the rock bottom reason for accepting suffer; ing and bearing it patiefitly is that'it is God's will for us. And this too is the very heart of Th&~se's "Little Wa~r to God" in all things to trust ourselves to God With complete confidence in His love for us.AUBREY ,J. REID, S.,J. 0 PROCEEDINGS OF .CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS The proceedings of the Firs~ National CongreSS of Religious held at the Uni-versity of N6tre Dame, August~, 1952, are being published under the title. Relioidus, Community,Life in the United States, in two separate books, one for the men's ses-sion and "one for the Sisters' session. A cloth bound copy of- ehch book of approxi-mately 300 pages is being'sold for $2.50. If you ~,ish to participate in the lim-ited first, printing, which is promised before Christmas. order promptly from: ,~Th.e ¯ Paulist Press. 401 West 59th ,Street, NeW-York 19; New York. ! "327 BOOI~'NOTICE~ ReviOw [or.I~etiOious . ,- ",'- ' BOOK'N6TICES" Thd'Dominicafi Nuns of'Cdr-pus Christi Mbnast~ery, Menlo Park, . California deserve thanks for translating so competently the book" KINSHIPS by Reverend ~ntonin S~rti]langes, O.P. In it you will find 76 brief chapters well suited to" induce- deeper,~spiritual insight and enthusiasm. Several chapters, though their exact number varies, have been grouped beneath the following gefieral subjects: ~od's, Presence, His Providence, Union with God, Love for G0d,Lo;e for .Self, Lovd for Others, the Apostolate. Sometimes a single parggraph, occasion-a! ly¯ one brief sentence, will make you pause tb'pofider and to pray. (New York: McMullen Books Inc.,,195~. Pp. v + 234. $2.95.) BE YE ~RFECT by David L. Greenstock, ~s a treatment, both scientific and devotional, of Christian perfection and various aspects of it. Much is made, for instance, of th~ distinction between essen- Hal perfectiofi, that is, being in the state of grace, and accidental per: fection, ulterior degrees of grace and virtue. The former is possible to all and ought to Be attained by all; how much farther one~n~o depefids upo~ the particular providence, of God. Those wno'nave a fair knowledge of the spiritual life would not learn much by reading this work, and people who are looking for an inffoduction would' d0 well to seek it in other books. This one is confusing rather than informative, and it is more ap~ to leave one comforted and contented wlth'mediocrity in virtue than to stimulate one to great'efforts. (St. Louis;.B. Herder Book Co., ¯1.'952. Pp. 362. $5.00.) A capable author with an attractive subject should produce a ¯ g0°~l biography. This formula works effectively in Katherine Bur-ton's THE TABLE OF THE KING, the story of Emmelie. Tavernier Gan~elin, Foundress bf tl~e Sisters of Charity of Providence. The words that w~re later inscribed on the coat of arms of the first Provi-dence Asile, "The Charity of Christ urget,h us," were' almost miracu-lously operative in Emmeli~ from her ~arly childhood, whe~ she used to distribute alms for her mother. As a girl still in her teens, she had a room set apart in the house where she fed the poor at "the table of the King"mherself do!ng the cooking, serving, .and ~lish-washing. Th'rough sorrow over the successive loss of her husband andthree small children she learned fhe practical need of trust in DivineProvi-dence; and this¯ trust was deepened and broadened when the bare cup-board of her first Old Ladies' Home was repeatedly replenished in an unforeseen manner. It is not strange that God should choose such a 328 November, 1957. BOOK ANNoUNcEMENTS woman to found an ifistitute w_h.oie function is Charity and Whose principle of growth is unbounded trust in Providence. (New o~or, k: McMullen Books, Inc., 1952.) "Come North as ~oon as possible!" These were th'e words Bishop Midge to M6tber Xavier, foundress.of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth. COME NORTH is the exciting story of Ann Ross of Methodisi~ Parentage--her father was a harsh, unforgiving Method-ist preacher who disowned th~ daughte~r after she ran away to the convent. Sister Julia Gilmore, S.C.L., is to be congratulated for the very readable account of the spiritual 'and spatial odyssey of the ~oundress of her own flourishing~'ongregation. There0is hardly a dull page in the entire book, from .the account of the birth of Ann Ross in 1813 to that graphic account of the '.'aged itinerant revival-jsti' who drove up to the St. Mary Female Institute near Leaven-worth, Kansas. All unknown to himself, this circuit rifler had come to the Academy founded by his own sister who many years ago had run away from home. to enter a convent.The book ends thus: "Two Sisters walked with him to the c~metery~where he saw the plain white marker that reads: Mother Xavier.Ross Died April 2, 1895 Aged 82 years." '(New York: McMullen Books, Inc., 1951. Pp. 310. $3.50.) , , ' o Book ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are.purely descriptive, based on acursory exam-ination' of the books listed.] ¯ AMERICA PRESS, 70 E. 45th St., New York, 17, New York. The State and Religious Education. By Robert C. Hartnett, 'and Anthony T. Bouscaren. On recent SupremL, Court decisions, D~: Conant, and the California tax exemption case: Pamphlet, $.25. BRUCE .PUBLISHING CO., 400 Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. Life Begins With Eooe. By E.Boyd Barrett. "With a suc-cinctness that pierces: so.phisticotion and a depth of conviction that commands, the author summarizes this Imitation o: Christ for mod-erns: keep''your promises, keep your temper, keep oyour~mouth shut, keep you~r heart warm

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

Transcript of an oral history interview with W. Russell Todd conducted by Joseph Cates at the Sullivan Museum and History Center on May 16 and May 19, 2016, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project. W. Russell Todd graduated from Norwich University in 1950 and was president of the university from 1982 to 1992. In his interview, he discusses his thirty-two years of active duty in the U.S. Army as well as his experiences at Norwich University. ; 1 W. Russell Todd, NU '50, Oral History Interview Interviewed on May 16, 2016 and May 19, 2016 At Sullivan Museum and History Center Interviewed by Joseph Cates JOSEPH CATES: This is Joseph Cates. Today is May 16th, 2016. I'm interviewing General Russell Todd. This interview is taking place at the Sullivan Museum and History Center. This interview is sponsored by the Sullivan Museum and History Center and is part of the Norwich Voices Oral History Project. OK, first tell me your full name. RUSSELL TODD: William Russell Todd. JC: When were you born? RT: I was born on the first day of May, 1928, in Seattle, Washington. JC: What Norwich class are you? RT: Class of 1950. My father was 26. My son was -- I'll think about that. JC: Well, we'll get back to that. Tell me about where you grew up and your childhood. RT: For the first year of my life we lived in Seattle, Washington. Dad had a job with a lumber company out there, getting experience to come back to work for his father, who ran a lumber company just outside Milton, Massachusetts. So I grew up for the first nine or ten years in Milton, Massachusetts, a very nice place, right on the edge of where Mattapan and Milton come together. There was a lot of traffic. Well, just for an example, during that period of time I came up with my dad to his fifteenth reunion, and the difference in traffic between where we lived and what we found up here was considerable. When I got back to school on Monday the teacher said, "Russell had a day off. He's now going to tell us what he saw." Well, nothing came to mind, and I stood and told them that I had seen something they had never seen, miles and miles and miles of dirt roads. Now I live on one. (laughs) JC: Was that the first time you were ever at Norwich? RT: Yeah. JC: What was your impression of it when you first saw it? RT: It was a very interesting period of time. It was just before World War II affected the United States, and many, many people were sending their sons to Norwich -- rather than perhaps better prepared schools -- because they could get a commission. They assumed that everyone was going to go to war, and the opportunity of getting an education and a commission together at the same time really appealed to a lot of people. Our football team got everybody we wanted of great quality. We won all the games in that time 2 frame. And we had some very, very fine people who came back in 1946, the year I entered the university, and they made a big impression on my life. JC: I'm sure. I assume the buildings were the same. There weren't any new buildings between the time that you went and -- RT: As a matter of fact it was 1941 I believe, and two buildings on the main parade ground were being dedicated. One wasn't quite finished, and the other was, and two new dormitories shows you an example of what I was saying, how it was a golden period in Norwich's history. But saying that, the opposite is true when the war ends. You remember that we had, what, 15 cadets come up here after the Civil War. They all got off the train, (laughs) yeah, we don't think much about that. It's happened each time there's been a war. The incentive, or the idea, or the concept of perhaps having to serve didn't appeal to a lot of people at the end of wars. JC: Right. You kind of have a boom before the war and a bust after the war. RT: Yeah. JC: What made you decide to come to Norwich? RT: I think probably that trip did, that and the fact my dad was always talking about it. He would make us on Saturday nights -- eating beans and franks -- to sing Norwich songs around the table. (laughs) JC: Do you remember any of those Norwich songs? RT: There's a good one. What is it? "Oh, My First Sergeant" "Oh, my first sergeant, he is the worst of them all. He gets us up in the morning before first call. It's fours right, fours left, and left foot into line. And then the dirty son of a buck, he gives us double time. Oh, it's home, boys, home. It's home we ought to be. Home, boys, home, in the land of liberty. And we'll all be back to Norwich when the sergeant calls the roll." JC: That's wonderful. (laughter) I've heard in some of the oral histories "On the Steps of Old Jackman," but I haven't heard that one before. (Todd laughs) So when you came here with your father, was that during homecoming? RT: Well, homecoming and graduation were the same period of time. It was fascinating to me. It was a cavalry school. They had all kinds of drills that we went to and watched, and prizes were awarded. People loading up the water-cooled submachine guns on horseback and racing around, then taking them down, and putting in ammunition blanks, and firing -- you know, first, second, and third prizes kind of thing. Oh, yeah, that impressed me. Then, of course, the parades were fun to see. But it took about three days to get through graduation and homecoming as a single entity. JC: When you came to Norwich what did you major in? 3 RT: That's an interesting story. As I said, Norwich was having trouble at that time recruiting people, and I got recruited by the president of the university. We met in Boston, and he asked me all the things I was interested in, and to him it looked like I should be an engineer, and he wanted me to take an exam that would carry that forward. Well, I took the exam, and I became an engineer, and about the first part of the second semester I discovered you really had to do the homework. I really didn't like that much, and I wasn't doing very well, so I changed my major to history and economics. I really found that fascinating. JC: Well, tell me about what it was like being a rook here. RT: Yeah, another interesting thing. I was sold on the rook system, and my dad had always talked about it. When he brought me up here, people would drop off their suitcases, and go right out onto the parade ground, and start being ordered around by the corporal. I thought that was great. I never seemed super. But I didn't have many followers on that. I was very anxious that my father leave, and get out of there, and go home, and I convinced him to do that. But after, oh, maybe a month the class, who had elected class officers by that time, called a class meeting, and we all got together -- I've forgotten where now. "We got to stop this. We got to tell these guys we're not going to put up with this nonsense. We've got to show our power." I stood up and said, "Gentlemen, this isn't what we want to do. We want to put up. We want to show him we can do it," and I got booed right off the stage. However, they eventually made me class secretary, so I didn't lose all my friends that day. (laughs) JC: Now let's talk about post-war Norwich, because you did say there's kind of a bust. There isn't as many people. RT: Yeah, I think we had 200 in our class, and there was no really classes of Bubbas. Norwich toward the end of the war, when they were really desperate to get money to pay salaries to the faculty, had a high-school level. I think it was two years, the high-school level, and many people went into that and came up here, and that toward the end made some income for the university. But what it did for us, as an incoming class of freshmen, we had our officers, lieutenants, who were younger than we were, but they'd been here two years. You know, that didn't sit over very well either. That was difficult. JC: And the cavalry was still here at that time. RT: It was, yeah, for the first two years of my term and tenure at Norwich, at that point. JC: What do you remember about the horse cavalry? RT: Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Well, let's just put it this way. The first person I visited in Northfield when I came back as president was my old sergeant [Kenoyer?], who we hated. He was tough. But on the other hand, we really liked him, and I felt very, very sorry for him, and I really wanted to see him. His son had won entry into West Point, and 4 about two nights before he was to report in he and a bunch of his buddies were in an automobile accident. I think they were hit by a train and killed. Sergeant [Kenoyer?] was never the same after that. He continued to ride horses in the parades in Northfield and that kind of thing. But he was a character. His education was perhaps at the level he was working, taking care of the horses, and taking care of the riding. He was a good man, but, for example, I had a roommate named George Pappas who was scared to death of the horses, and some of the horses knew it. They knew when you were afraid. And old George would step into the stable area, ready to put on the harness, and that old horse would just back him into the wall and lean on him -- oh, you win. Then, of course, [Kenoyer?] would come by and say, "Kick him in the neb with your knee!" Well, no one was going to do that, trapped in there. So George, he decided that he would skip equitation classes, and instead he took 10 demerits for every single class that he was supposed to be at, and he spent his first semester walking around the parade ground on Saturdays carrying a rifle, doing tours. Many things can be said about George. That's a whole other story of absolute wonder. But it was difficult. We only went down once a week actually to use them, but there really wasn't a hell of lot you can learn in one-hour time once a week. But toward the end of the freshman year we were out trotting around in the neighborhoods, etc. I remember one time one of the captains in the Army ROTC program there, officers, Army officers, lead us on a parade, and we went out across the railroad tracks and up into the hills. And on the way back the horses got the idea they themselves would like to jog back to the stables, and we came charging down that hill totally out of control. Some of the horses and men went all the way to downtown before they came under it. I went through the football practice. (laughs) It wasn't everything it was cracked up to be. Now there were some people here, including a classmate by the name of Bob [Bacharat?] [00:13:18] who really was a polo player. He came from Switzerland. I think that's the reason he came to Norwich was to be able to play polo, and we played polo in that time frame with people like Miami who flew their horses up here. Now, I never saw the plane, but we were told all this and a few years earlier, before the war, that Norwich was playing the big colleges and winning. Toward the end of the first year we played something called broom polo, which they'd throw out a basketball on the floor, and then you'd have to hit it with a broom to get it to go to the goal. Those kinds of things were fun to watch. I remember one time George, my roommate, in skipping class went up into the stands, which are on the south end of the hall, but up above in a balcony, and he opened the window and got a snowball, several of them, and put them up there. When somebody would go by, the stove down on the floor -- there were four stoves in that place -- they'd get red hot, but they really didn't make a hell of a lot of difference when the temperature was 30 below or whatever it might have been outside. And the horses, when you'd take them from the stable to the riding hall, would fight you all the way; they didn't want to go out in that cold. But George, on one occasion, dropped snowballs on those red-hot stoves, and you can imagine, they hissed. As the horse went by, this great hiss came out, and the horse would throw the guy, or run for the far -- I went hell bent for election to the far wall. And when he stopped, I went right up onto his neck and was hanging on. Sergeant [Kenoyer?] came over and gave me hell, you know, "You didn't take control of that horse." (inaudible) [00:15:36] There are people lying down all 5 around, and the horses are running around. Well, there's a certain romance in having the horses, so long as you're sitting in the stands watching a polo game. (laughs) JC: Had you ever ridden a horse before? RT: No, never. JC: So you didn't have any experience with horses. RT: Neither did anybody else. Yeah, yeah. They were wonderful animals though, for the most part. JC: Now you said a lot of the people that were there before the war came back after the war to finish up. RT: Mm-hmm. A lot may be too much of an adjective to use, but Alumni Hall was essentially filled with non-married veterans, or veterans who hadn't brought their wives back. Civilian clothes and having nothing to do with the military. The rest of the dormitories were filled with 200 and whatever it was cadets, and the very few upperclassmen like the one I mentioned who came up through the high school route. We didn't have a lot to do with them, and they were very serious about their studies in the classrooms, very serious about their studies. The fraternization took place after the first of the year when we could go into a fraternity house, and I remember the older veterans -- older, 22 maybe -- who were in Theta Chi, where I was, were a remarkable bunch of people and very, very much appreciated. They didn't always come to dinner with us, but they were in the house and participated with it. They ranged all the way from a parachutist in Europe to a lieutenant colonel in the air force. So that's a big gap. But they were great guys who made fraternity life reasonable. JC: Well, tell me about Theta Chi. Why did you choose that one? RT: Oh, yeah, the same old story, the same reason I came here. My dad was a Theta Chi. Why, of course that's what I'd do. This is my father's fraternity, you know. JC: So what were the fraternities like? RT: They weren't too bad. When General Harmon eliminated them, I thought it was the right thing to do, because there weren't fraternities at other military colleges. And when they were started I really believe they were very useful. They were much more an eating club, and since there wasn't a mess in the university in the 1850s. If you look into some of the old records you'll see at graduation time they invited the alumni back to have dinner, and they had dances. They had inter-fraternity baseball and football, etc. We were trying at my time, in my fraternity, to replicate that. It wasn't perhaps as successful as it might have been. It was great fun to beat SigEp in baseball or something. But it was a different part of the university. I remember one time when I was a corporal, and one of the men in the rank under me, in the barracks, was in the fraternity. We get down to the fraternity, 6 and he would give me a hard time for giving him a hard time. It wasn't what I thought it should be, but it was a good time. I mean, don't misunderstand me. Well, it was a fraternity. (laughs) The girls came in by train, if they were away. Carol came up several times on a train to spring break, or a winter carnival, and that kind of thing. That was good sport to have a place where we could party. There was no drinking - baloney, there wasn't. (Coates laughs) I remember one time we were having lunch, and one of the seniors, one of the veterans that had come back, was the president of the house, and he said, "Our Theta Chi member on the faculty, old Professor Woodbury, is going to be our chaperone for the party. Does anybody know Professor Woodbury?" "I know Professor Woodbury. My father told me about him. I've met him once." He said, "Good. You and your date will sit in the living room with the Woodburys while we're down in the basement drinking." (laughter) It wasn't much fun that night. We had the bars hidden behind sliding doors, or doors that pulled down, and all this kind of stuff, so if we got word that there was someone from the faculty coming we could close it up and all sit down, smile, and look like there was no alcohol in the place. JC: Can you tell me a little bit about winter carnival and some of the dances that you all had? RT: They were good sport. Much of the fun though centered around the fraternity at that time. Yes, of course we went to the dance, etc., but before going to the dance we probably went to the fraternity, and certainly after the dance we went to the fraternity, and that was really good sport. In my senior year my roommate, Rollin S. Reiter, from Ohio decided that in his fraternity they were going to have a special Christmas party. Now, it didn't make an awful lot of sense, because it was right at exam time. We took exams right in that time frame, so he really had to work to get these guys. They were going to do it in tuxedoes, not in our uniforms, so that slowed it down a little, too. But one of the guys, Chubby Jordan, who has since passed away, he was a brigadier general in the Massachusetts National Guard later on, an ex-marine. He didn't want to go do it, so they convinced him that he had to do it, and they would get him a date. When he went to the fraternity house, he was introduced to the worst looking girl in the place, and he immediately started drinking beer and avoiding her and all this. It wasn't even the girl they were going to match him up with, and they just were teasing him something awful. When he got very sleepy they put him on the pool table, laid out flat like in a mortuary and put two lit candles, one at either end of him on the pool table. It was a sight for sore eyes. (laughs) JC: I bet it was. Now you were on the rook committee while you were there? RT: Yeah. In my sophomore year I was the head of the rook committee, elected by the class. During the summer period of time I had to get together with the printers and the university and go through this business. There were big posters that said "Beware, Rook, Beware," and then they listed all the things down. We'd get them printed up here by John Mazuzan down in the Northfield Press, and then we'd sell them to the rooks at $1 apiece. I don't know what we did with the money, in the class coffers I guess. Yeah. I remember that President Dodge, who had no military experience previous, but was a very, very well known scientist and had been the dean of one of the big Midwestern schools in that area, 7 he was brought in by some hefty people on the board of trustees. He didn't fit. He didn't understand us. He was a great academic and did some very fine things for the university. But he called me in one day, as head of the rook committee, and said, "When will this period end?" This was right after supper. I said to him, "Sir, it's very clear. It's right on the chart." He said, "I want it to end at Thanksgiving." I said, "Sir, I don't think you're talking to the right guy. You should really be talking to the commandant of cadets, your left-hand man." He said, "Well, I don't know if I can convince him," and I thought, oh, my God, what have we got here, you know. (laughter) He was a fine gentleman, but the minute it was possible for the alumni to discover that General Harmon might be available, in May of my senior year, Dodge was gone. The alumni just -- it wasn't working the way they wanted to see it work. JC: So Harmon was not president any of the time that you were here? RT: His inauguration was held at the same time as my graduation. It was one thing. He had been here for maybe a month, and I remember that we had a football banquet, and they invited General Harmon to come. And he stood up and told us all that he had been here as a cadet, and he had come back in 1935 as the commandant of cadets, and he loved and understood this university, and he was going to make it famous, you know, kind of, "Yeah!" Just the kind of story we needed. Then he told us a story that just curdled me. It was a dirty story. I'd never heard some guy stand up in a dinner and tell a dirty story. It sort of surprised me. He had that reputation. As a matter of fact, one time later in my career, when I was in the army, I was asked by my boss if I would go back to Hamilton, Massachusetts, where I had lived at one time and see Mrs. George Patton, and tell her that her son-in-law -- as a brigadier general -- was about to be sent to Fort Knox, Kentucky. He was married to one of Patton's daughters, and he is now a bachelor. I was to go with three sets of quarters' plans and say, "Which of these, General, would you choose, because we at Fort Knox can now get the house painted up and ready for you, and all this kind of stuff ahead of time?" Well, Mrs. Patton agreed. When the time actually came general orders was late in his itinerary and couldn't be there, so she said, "Why don't you and Carol just come to dinner, and we'll talk about this? I will pass your message to Johnny when he comes through next week, and your leave is over." So that was just fine. But we had a quiet period in that Mrs. Patton was at one end of a long table, and I was at the other end, and Carol was in the middle, and there was a little old maid with a bonnet on her head, and an apron moving around quietly around the room. Everything went silent, and I said, "I can handle this." I said to Mrs. Patton, "Mrs. Patton, do you happen to know General Harmon?" And she said, "Indeed, I do, Russell, and he's a very disgusting man." (laughter) Now as it turns out, she gave an award right after that, she gave an award at Norwich of a similar pistol of General Patton's famous (inaudible) [00:29:38] to the leading cadet. But she was clear. (laughter) JC: Yeah, I've heard stories about General Harmon. RT: He did a great job. He stayed too long, but he did a great job. 8 JC: Well, what clubs were you in when you were here at Norwich? RT: Yeah, I went out for football. I'd come from a little school in Wenham, Massachusetts, where we played six-man football, and if one guy was sick, it didn't look like we were going to play, you know, kind of thing. I went out for football in Beverly High School, and that was danger. I mean, I wasn't up to that. When we got to Norwich I said, "I'm going back out for football. This looks like --" They were mostly freshmen. There were some veterans that came back, and there were some very good veteran players who came back but weren't interested in playing football. They wanted to study and have a family life. So Norwich had a terrible football team during that period of time. About the second day of practice Joe Garrity, who'd been a friend of my dad's who I had known, put his arm on my shoulder as we walked back to the locker room and said, "I've got a job for you." And I thought to myself, I'm going to be quarterback for the freshman team. And he said, "You're my manager, how about that?" and I said, "Oh, OK." Later in life, when I became president, the alumni director here, Dave Whaley, took me out to visit various alumni clubs. In Chicago a fellow named Hale Lait, who played football and was co-captain in his senior year, started to walk up to us, and Dave says, "Mr. Lait, do you know General Todd?" Hale Lait says, "Shit, he used to wash my jock." (laughter) And it was true! We had a big laundry over there. JC: Were you in any other clubs while you were here? RT: Yeah, I'd have to think upon it. We had an international relations club that I became president of at some point of time under -- oh, come on, his name is skipping me. I'll come back to it. But we brought I people to speak on the issues, and then Norwich formed an alliance with the other colleges where we were all working together, and that was sort of fun working that out. Oh, incidentally, when I was manager for the freshman team I had to write all the letters to the other schools and make all the arrangements, all that kind of thing. It sort of surprised me that the university wasn't doing that; the athletic department wasn't doing that. JC: Did you have a favorite professor when you were here? RT: Yeah, and I just told you I couldn't remember his name. (laughter) Sidney Morse. JC: Oh, OK. RT: Old Sidney Morse was a terrible lecturer, but he was a genius, you know. He understood American history, and that was his forte, and he also was a wonderful human being and understood us. He really got me to dig in and start getting decent grades. He would lecture, but he would have side comments on this thing, and there we are taking notes left and right. I never wanted to miss a class under any circumstances. He invited some of us -- one of them being me -- over to dinner, and he was just a great sport. He was not a big man in stature, but a big man in intellect. JC: Was there a professor you particularly didn't like? 9 RT: Oh, there were some who I'd rather not name who I didn't appreciate or think that they were at the level they should be. JC: What was the favorite class you ever took here? RT: I guess it was history. That's what I worked at. Let me go back to what I didn't like. We lost -- somehow, I don't know how -- one of the economics professors, and President Dodge brought in somebody in mid-semester, and this guy had written many books and was well appreciated around the world, but he was terrible. He couldn't remember any names, he refused to take any attendance, so people didn't come. You could answer him back and forth. I was told, I can't vouch for this, I was told by the people that say they did it. They invited him out the night before his final exam to join them for dinner in Montpelier, and when the time came, they picked up the tip, and went down to the railroad station, and put him on a train going to Montreal. (laughter) I believe it was true. But he just wasn't accustomed to teaching at our level in that circumstance. He was someone that should have continued writing his books. He was essentially a sociologist, but that was a while. I got called in by the dean for skipping class, and the dean was a great guy at that time. I was a little embarrassed by it, but the class was mostly veterans in this particular -- in economics. You know, they had their way. They weren't required to come to class. If they didn't come to class it chalked up one of a series you could have freer, but cadets didn't have that, so I just played like I was a veteran to old Mumbles [McLeod?]. That's what they called him, Mumbles. When the dean called me in, I got right back on it. JC: Decided you'd rather go back to class. RT: Yeah. JC: Did you ever get in much trouble when you were here? RT: Not really. I came close a number of times. Well, let me go back and talk about Carol. Carol and I met one time when we were in about the ninth grade. She was in Beverly, Massachusetts, and we were living in Hamilton, Massachusetts, at the time, and the Congregation youth groups met at a third place, Essex, Massachusetts. There were lots of people of our ages. You know, these groups didn't know each other. And I spotted her. She was -- wow! Wow, yeah. But I never got to speak to her before we broke up and went back. A couple of years later in Beverly High School -- we'd moved to Wenham, and Wenham didn't have a high school, so I went to Beverly High School. Todd with a T and Wyeth with W happened to have lockers opposite each other on the wall, and I said, "My God, there's that girl." I went over and spoke to her, and she invited me to her birthday party, and that'll show it all started with us. But it came to a point in our sophomore year when I had changed from engineering into history and economics. I had to make up some subject material that I didn't get in the first part, and I went to the University of New Hampshire trying to make it up. I went down on the weekend to her house in Beverly, and I stayed with her aunt 10 who lived next door. She was on my team. But Carol when we were -- she said, "Let's stop this tennis game for a minute. I want to talk to you." We walked up to the net, and she said, "You know, I'm through with this relationship. You're never going to be serious about anything you do in your life; you're going to be a perennial sophomore. I want to do more with my life than you are going to do, and this isn't going to work out." OK, I'll show you. I came back and studied like hell for the last two years I was here and sort of caught up. But it was interesting, when I was invited back at graduation time to be the officer who commissions everybody, and at that time the university ordered a master's or a PhD, you know, honorary to the speaker. Loring Hart didn't tell me whether I was supposed to say anything or not, so I had in my pocket a little thing I would say. It went something like this. It is indeed an honor to be here. I represent my classmates in this ceremony, and I'm very proud of the way Norwich is moving. But I would like you to know that 25 years ago, this very day, I received a letter from the committee on academic degrees and standings that read to this effect: "Dear Cadet Todd, The committee has met and has agreed to allow you to graduate (laughs) based on the circumstances that were not your fault." (laughter) So, you know, that's the way life went for me. I dug in and did relatively well. But another interesting thing about that. I don't know about anybody else, but I had a picture in my mind of VMI, and the Citadel, and all these places as being superior to Norwich in their military training, etc. But when I got in the army I discovered that 50% of them were duds, and it just changed my life around and my feelings about my institution. Yeah, it was strange. JC: When you graduated from Norwich what was the first -- you went into the army. RT: Yeah. JC: Did you go straightaway into the army, or was there a period? RT: Well, some of us -- I think it was 12, maybe as many as 15 -- received an opportunity to go into the regular army, not into the reserve army. I was one of those. About half of my classmates who were given that ability to do that chose not to do it, so there were a number of us that went. Upon graduation we received our commission in the United States Army Reserve, and then two weeks later I was brought into the regular army with another commissioning thing, which happened to be by my father's Norwich roommate, Colonel [Rice?] in Boston. He was running something in Boston for the army at the time. That was sort of fun. Then I went immediately off. We graduated about 15 or 17 May or something, June rather. On the second day of July, I reported in to the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment Light at Fort Meade, Maryland, as one of these people you had a regular army commission. So there wasn't any time -- there was time enough in between that the family all went down to Cape Cod for a two-week vacation, but I graduated and went into the army. JC: Now did you get married before you were in the army? 11 RT: No, no. No, no. I was still trying to get back in Carol's good graces. Before I left -- well, I went, as I said, to the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment. Now the army was doing something really stupid at that time. They had been told to reduce the army's personnel requirements, and rather than reducing in any reasonable way, they chose to take one-third of every squad, one-third of every company, one-third of every battalion, one-third of every regiment. It was a paper army. It couldn't really operate well at all. But when the war broke out in Korea they took from those drawn-down forces and sent them over as individual replacements, supposedly to go into units that also had the same kind of vacancy that was created now. So we had almost no reasonable training while I was in the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment before going to Korea, and these people went into units for which they were not trained. The army was really messed up, really messed up. General Abrams one time in discussing this with a group of officers, after he'd become chief of staff of the army, had tears running down his face. "No army should ever do that to its people. There is no excuse for it, and as long as I'm chief of staff I guarantee you that our units will be ready to fight, if we have to fight." You know, oh. It was a terrible mess over there. So before leaving that unit in which I had a miserable career for that short period of time. For example, it wasn't two weeks later that the post's military police battalion left Fort Meade and went to Korea. Company A of my organization, of which I was a lieutenant, became the post's military policemen. Now, we know nothing about being the post's military policemen, not a thing. There wasn't anything in ROTC, there wasn't anything that lead us to believe. What I knew about policing was I'd seen in movies, and I hid behind the "Welcome to Fort Meade" sign in my sedan, and chased down someone that was speeding, and discovered it was the chief of staff of the post. At midnight I went over and had a bed check in the post's prison, to see that there weren't any knives in there. But I got called in and said, "Hey, come on, get off it. You can go to jail for what you're doing," you know. (laughs) It was crazy. I was trying to do my job as I knew it, but no one was there to supervise me in any way. JC: And how long were you doing that? RT: I left there in September. I went in in July, left in September, and got to Korea in late November, first having leave and then going to the West Coast, going through the checks and balances of travel over there. Just about that time MacArthur announced that the war would be over by Christmas, and as a result the army slowed down the number of replacements they were sending over. This was just about the time that the marines invaded Inchon, and it was followed up with the 7th Division behind them, and trapped the North Vietnamese soldiers below us. It was really a magnificent maneuver. So we were just sitting around in California waiting to get orders. Every weekend we'd go into town, and we'd go into some bar and then talk out loud about how we've got to go, and waiting to go to war, this kind of thing. Somebody would pick up the bar tab. (laughs) Then we crossed the Pacific during a hurricane, and that was something most unusual, as you might imagine. The piano broke loose in the lounge. It had been a troop transport in World War II, and they converted it to be a troop ship but for families to go to Japan or other places. At that time these ships were the property of the army, it wasn't the navy. 12 I remember distinctly there was a captain on board, mostly lieutenants, but this captain on board was a ranger, and he'd a big, puffed-up chest, and walked among us, and told us to stand up straight, and "Take your hands out of your pockets." When he'd get tired of doing that he decided we should have bayonet drill, and issued the bayonets, put them on our rifles, and went up on the deck. Oh, God. I said, "I'm not playing this game." There was a ladder still going up the funnel, in wartime where they had a station to look for submarines, OK. I went up there while everybody else was screaming and hollering down below and got away with it. It's a wonder I ever went anywhere in the army. (laughs) JC: So what was Korea like? RT: Well, let me describe it. We arrived the day before Thanksgiving in Inchon, got off the boat. There was a long, long tidal process; the ship couldn't get close to the docks or anything else. So they threw the nets over the side, and we were to go over the side of the ship and climb down into a small boat to go in. But we had all our personal gear with us. We were carrying great bags of stuff. I had two bottles of whiskey in my bag, and some damn fool says, "Drop your bag into the boat." I did. (laughs) But as a matter of fact, they took our uniforms away from us at that time and said, "We will hold them here, because if everybody goes home at Christmas it won't affect you for a while, and you'll be in a regular army uniform." But we got on the boats and went on the shore. They fed us what was left over from the Thanksgiving dinner, and a lot of canned fruits, put us on a train, and sent us up to North Korea. Each of us, each lieutenant, was on an open freight car, you know, enclosed but with doors on both sides, and each one of them had a little stove in it. It was cold, and we headed north, and every time the hospital train came south on that one track we would pull over maybe an hour before it came by, and then stick around and get back onto the thing. In my one car I had 27 people. Those cars were small. They were Japanese-style freight cars, and they were small. We had nothing but straw on the floor and a sleeping bag, but it was a summer sleeping bag, not a winter sleeping bag, and the stove didn't really heat the thing at all. There were slots in the side of the thing. Anyway. We didn't have any ammunition, and we would get shot at on the train. Now, nobody I know of got hit, but it made quite an impression. But still they didn't issue us any ammunition. There was a major in charge, and he was in the last car, which was a caboose kind of car, tight, a good stove, etc., etc. So whenever the train stopped we as lieutenants would run back and sit in his car with him and then take off again. Many of the soldiers would get off and run in to find somebody in the little town we stopped in and buy rot-gut whiskey. Boy, they were in trouble. One of the people in the car behind me, I was told, went blind on the spot. Maybe he was cured later, but it made an impression. We finally got to the capital of Pyongyang, and they put us on trucks and took us to what used to be a hospital. We went on about the fourth floor and were on cots, or on the floor, kind of thing, and at midnight that night some captain in the army came in and said, "OK, everybody out. Get down on the truck below. Let's go. Get your gear together." Well, we all didn't get there first, and the last of us were turned around and sent back. That batch was never heard from again. The next morning we were loaded on trucks and sent up. But before going they fed us a good breakfast. We went down into 13 the basement of this place -- it was steaming and dark down there -- and we had breakfast on some slate or granite tables. Steam is pouring out of the coffee pots, etc., and I filled my cup with coffee and took a big drink to discover that it was maple syrup. I went forward that day sick as a dog, sitting at the end, at the tail of that truck yurking all the way. I'm sure all those men I was traveling with, "Look hey there, look at that lieutenant. He's so scared he's puking," you know. We went on and eventually we came to a stop, and the captain who was leading this convoy came back and told us to get off the trucks and go into these schoolhouses that were available, right immediately, I mean, just saw them and said, "Take them." We went into the schoolhouse, and he turned around and went back to get "another load," quote, unquote. We never saw him again; he never came back. Here we are with no ammunition, carrying guns, living in a schoolhouse, and the Chinese are moving in on us. They were moving down the mountains on both sides of this thing, and then there was a tremendous, tremendous loss of life up the mountain further, coming toward us. The 38th Regiment that I joined after we got out -- I get the men out, and then I jumped on a mess truck headed south, all trying to find where the headquarters for the 38th Regiment was. The 38th Regiment was part of the 2nd Division, and it lost in about two days, coming through a real tight trap -- there was a river, there was a road that wasn't wide enough for two tanks to pass, and then there was a mountain again on the other side, and the Chinese are up on both sides just raking the convoy. One truck stops, you know, they've got to push it off the edge to get the convoy going again. Now I wasn't a part of that, but I joined the company that did, and when I finally caught up with my unit, it was because I had stopped in from the schoolhouse when I saw the 1st Cavalry Division people pull on in close to us, so I went over and inquired. I walked into the TOC, the tactical operation center, and there was a major sitting in front of a map, on a stool, making little marks on it. I waited a while, and he didn't notice me, and finally I said, "Sir, could you tell me where the 38th Regiment is?" and he turned around and said, "No, but where's the division? Where is the 2nd Division?" I said, "Sir, I have no idea. We're trying to find it. We were left off down here." He said, "I don't know where they are. If you --" It was that confusing. They lost something like 4,000 men coming out of that gap. Now, I wasn't affected, not at all, in any way. I was scared to death at times, but then after that I joined the 38th Regiment. When I went in to meet Colonel Pappal -- yeah, something like that -- he shook hands with one, and passed me a bottle of whiskey with the other one, and said, "Son, you're going to need this." I reported in to the battalion commander, and he at the time was meeting with his staff in a little hutch where the Vietnamese -- the Vietnamese -- the Koreans built their houses of mud and mud brick, and they would cook in an open room attached to the house, and the smoke would go under the floors and heat the house. We were sitting on one of those floors, warm and toasty, and they were passing the bottle of whiskey around this circle as we talked about (inaudible) [00:59:47]. By that time the bottle of whiskey got pretty hot. (laughs) It was a very strange circumstance. When he finally got to it, the battalion commander said to me, he said, "Todd, you're going down to A Company." I said, "Sir, and who commands A Company?" He said, "You do." I had about as much opportunity to learn infantry tactics and lead a rifle 14 company as nobody at all. My buddy who I was traveling with who had some experience in World War II in combat in Europe, came back and went to the University of Illinois, and then came into the army the same as I did, through the (inaudible) [01:00:34], he was sent down to a company that already had an experienced commander. You know. Nobody was thinking. I sent the first sergeant back to division headquarters, he got commissioned, and he came back, and essentially he told me what we ought to be doing. Then we did it. Until MacArthur issued an order, that probably came to him to do it, that said all armored officers that had been assigned to infantry units are to be returned to armored units. So I went down to the regimental tank company of the regiment where my company commander, before coming over there, was an infantry officer who was aide to camp to the commanding general who gave him the tank company in the 38th regiment who didn't know a damn thing about tanks. It was really screwed up everywhere. At a point when I was running the rifle company, I was told that a replacement was on the way, flying in, and he would replace me as company commander. Oh, great, that's good news. The guy showed up, and during World War II he had been in the air force as a bombardier. He had absolutely no infantry experience. He had joined the nearest reserve unit to his home when he was discharged. It really wasn't working out. Where we got replacements, the adjutant would go down and say, "Has anybody been through armored training?" Nobody. Nobody. So there wasn't anybody to send to the armored company except the people that came in (inaudible) [01:02:41]. So we were training these guys, but we weren't -- there were some old sergeants that really knew what they were doing, and that's we made. We eventually had a pretty good tank company. I remember my sergeant was a gruff, old son of a bitch. I walked up to a formation he was holding one day, and his back was to me, and I was walking toward the platoon. And I heard him say "The kid says we got to --" I said uh-oh. "Sergeant [Beach?], come with me," and we went in to see the company commander. I told the company commander that I couldn't resolve this one. He said, oh, very well, I'll assign someone else." Sergeant [Beach?] remained behind. Wow, I've done it. Sergeant Beach comes out. I said, "What happening Sergeant?" and he said, "I'm going to be the lieutenant in charge of the other platoon." Ahhh, God, you know. (laughs) It just wasn't the army I knew later on. Yeah. It was a very sad arrangement. It really wasn't until General Walker was killed in a jeep accident, and he was the 8th Army commander, and they sent General Van Fleet over to run it, and we by that time had moved 125 miles to the rear. We were running as an army. Word got out very quickly that General Van Fleet's orders were "I don't want to see your plans of defense, I want to see your plans of attack." And everyone says, "Sure, sure, General. You look at them, and you'll be all alone up there." Well, by God, he took that army and straightened it out and moved it forward and stopped the Chinese, without much additional support. It was amazing to see that happen. I'll never forget that, that one man deciding that he's going to turn the army around and you'd better fall in line. I did have one experience before that happened when I was with the tank company, and I was in a jeep riding down a road, and the division commander had decided that since we had all these losses, and we're all screwed up, that he had a way to make us all feel proud of ourselves and identify. The methodology he used was that one regiment would have a mustache, another regiment would have sideburns, and another 15 would have goatees. Crazy, just crazy. But I'm driving down the road, and an assistant division commander, a one star, is coming this way, and he went right by, and I saluted, and then he stopped and hollered back at me. I jumped out and ran down to his jeep. He said, "You're not obeying the division commander's orders." I said, "Sir, what do you mean?" He said, "You shaved." I said, "No, sir, I've never shaved." (laughter) God. Yeah. But General Van Fleet really pulled that into order, and he relieved a lot of people. He relieved my brigade commander, gave us a lieutenant to be the colonel's slot in the brigade, who turned out to wind up with four stars in the end. They made the mechanism work. JC: Amazing. Now, you were awarded the Medal for Valor in Korea, weren't you? RT: Yeah. I got a Bronze Star for Valor and a Silver Star for Valor, neither of which I really want to talk about much. I think somebody else would have done better to have them than me. I mean, I was pleased, happy to receive it, proud to wear it on my uniform kind of thing, but there was a lot of that going on to bolster up morale of everybody. JC: Is there anything else you want to say about Korea? RT: I don't know. At the end it was a pretty good experience. When we had gone into a stalemate, we started a rotation system back to the United States, and it was a point system. If you came within a certain period of time, then you could go back at a date specific, so we all knew when we'd be going back. There were points for the kind of job you had and all this kind of thing. It was interesting, I went back to Japan, spent a few days in Japan. When we got on the boat I was assigned -- as I had on the way over -- to a large stateroom, and I think there were 12 of us in it, and up and down cots. It was the same gang I went over with. You know, the timeline of where you engaged in combat were the same for all of us, in different units, and that was really pretty special. Two of them, only two of them, didn't come back, and they were both infantry officers. To the best of my knowledge, from the 38th Regiment that I was familiar with, the lieutenants didn't go back whole. The majority of them were killed. Those that were wounded were wounded seriously enough that they didn't come back to the unit. So it was us armored guys that, essentially, came back together, went over together and came back together. Stopped in Hawaii on the way back, pulled into the port, and there's all these hula girls down on the thing, people with big signs, "Welcome Home, Veteran." I said, "Hell, I'm not a veteran. That's a guy that sits outside the post office trying to sell pencils." (laughs) That came as a bit of a shock to us. But, yeah. JC: Well, once you got back to the United States where were you stationed? RT: Before I got back to the United States, on R&R in Japan, I knew of my rotation date. I called Carol, who by that time had finished her year after Smith at Radcliffe, taking the first year of the Harvard Business School program at Radcliffe -- business school faculty, business school-devised location, Radcliffe. I called her and said, "How about meeting me in New York City on such and such a date at the Biltmore Hotel? We'll meet under the clock." Now, meeting under the clock, there'd been a movie about that whole 16 business. So she did, and we went to my family's house. They'd moved to Scarsdale, New York, at that point. I asked her to marry me. She said, "Give me a couple of weeks." So I went back to visit my family. They're not my immediate family, my grandparents in Quincy, Massachusetts, and my other grandparents in Dorchester, Massachusetts. I went to -- my uncle, my mother's brother, ran a hardware store that had originally been his father's, and he said, "What are you going to do about a car?" I said, "I got to get one." I sold my car before I went over. He said, "Well, I've got a good friend who's honest, and I think we can get a good car." So I went over that afternoon and bought a car and called Carol, and I said, "I bought a car today." She said, "A convertible?" and I said, "Yes," and turned it in the next day and got a convertible. (laughter) I'd do anything to make sure she's sweet. She said yes, we were married on the nineteenth of June of that year, and she obviously had to quit her job to become an army wife. JC: So where did you all go after that? RT: The first station when we returned, and I'm talking now about the same group of army officers that went over and came back together, also went to Fort Knox, and we lived in newly-built quarters that were built by a civilian contractor on the edge of there, which were great for a newly-married couple, but they certainly weren't anything special. George and Joanne Patton lived next door to us, a small world, yeah. I've lost my train of thought here now. (break in audio) JC: And we'll get back started. All right, so we were talking about Fort Knox. RT: Fort Knox being a first assignment together in the army was really great. So different. I mean, Fort Knox was organized. Everything was working well. People were happy. Not that we weren't working hard, because we really were. My first assignment was to a training division. It took the number of the division, the third, and replicated it and then trained, basic training. I was in the 2nd Brigade headquarters working on the planning and that kind of thing. I really was disappointed that I wasn't one of the company commanders, but it turns out that that was a tough job. In the tank company, the guy that headed the tank company had more tanks than a tank division, and it was a mess to keep them all straightened out and going around. So one day I went back home for lunch, and Mrs. George Patton, Sr., was sitting in the living room of our house talking to Carol. She had come down to Fort Knox because George and Joanne had just been married, and Joanne got some kind of disease when they were on the honeymoon in the Caribbean. And I reintroduced myself to Mrs. Patton, and we sat down and talked. She asked me what my job was, and I told her. I said, "But I've got to go. I've got an appointment this afternoon to see the commanding general. They're looking for an aide to camp to the commanding general, and I really don't want that job. I really would prefer to get an opportunity to command a company in the division here." She said, "Russell, General Collier is a very, very fine man. He has a 17 fine family life. He is a very, very successful soldier who commanded the 2nd Armored Division at the end of the war in Berlin. You could learn an awful lot working for him." So I went over, and I got the job, and for the next two years I was the junior aide to the commanding general. I did such things as travel with him when he went to different places for different purposes. My buddies all got a hold of me when they found out I was going to do this job, and all had things they wanted changed at Fort Knox, and I was to be their agent in telling the commanding general how he could change the place. Very early on we went out of the headquarters, down the steps, into the car, went past the post theater. I thought, well, here goes. I said, "Sir, do you realize that on this post now an officer must be in his full dress uniform in order to go to the movies?" He said, "Yes, I know that, and it will remain that way." I didn't have many new ideas for him after that. (laughs) He'd go over to the armor school, and the people that are teaching in the combat kinds of business would say, "This is what we're doing now, General, and what do you think? We'd like your approval of it," and I'd sit in the back of the room and listen to what was going on, and understand it. I would hear the people that had served in combat talk about what you ought to do, and I got a great education. Also, every year there was something called the Armor Warfighting Conference. Twice I was there for that. They bring in all the people that belong to the Armor Association, or were serving in an armored position, all the senior people, and they'd talk about what the army ought to be doing in armor. One of my jobs was to go into the airport in the general's big sedan and his chauffer and pick these guys up and drive them back to the post, and I'd chat with these guys, and it was really fun. I got to know an awful lot of people, army commanders, army staff members, and all this. I really felt pretty special that I'd had this kind of an opportunity. Then we also had at Fort Knox in that time frame an armor board. This armor board, when General I. D. White was the commander at Fort Knox -- before General Collier -- that the chief of staff of the army was not pleased with the way the chief of ordnance was managing the tank program and gave the responsibility to the commanding general at Fort Knox. All the bigwigs gathered at Fort Knox to make decisions about what the next tank would look like, what the next armored personnel carrier would look like, etc., etc. Again, I sat in the back of the room, and young captains and majors, most of them West Point graduates who'd gone off to graduate school and were coming back and using their talents. It was a great, great opportunity for me. We were always invited to the house when the Colliers were having a party, and people would say, "Oh, you're going over there and pass the cigarette butts around with them, aren't you?" "No, we don't do that. We're part of that group." Mike Popowski here in town, his dad was one of those colonels on the post at that time. I really got to know all those people. Not that it was doing me any good, but I learned from them, you know. I learned how to act, I learned when to shut up. It was very useful, and it was a great time. The Colliers were magnificent to us. We had a child while we were living there -- it was Tom, and Tom got burnt badly in an accident at our house. He was crawling across the floor, and there was a coffee pot that started percolating, and he looked up and pulled on the cord, and it came over and broke open on his back. The Colliers came over and relieved us of our 24-hour duty, and they took it over; they sat with that baby. We were their family. It was amazing; it was wonderful. 18 Yeah. I began to really understand what the army was about, that it could be a good army. JC: Well, after Fort Knox where did you go? RT: Let's see. Oh, yeah. When General Collier left, he was to be promoted and going to go to Korea, and he offered me the opportunity to go with him, and I told him that I would much prefer to have a tank company in Europe. While I loved the guy and his family, I wanted a tank company in Europe. He said, "We'll take care of that," and he called up the commanding general of the 2nd Armored Division in Europe, the one that they call Chubby Doan, and told him the situation and that I would be on orders to go over to the 2nd Armored Division and a tank company. He said, "I'll give him a tank company." So, wow! You know, we made it, and off we go to Europe. We pull into Bremerhaven, which is the northern port in Germany, and they send forth a little craft to meet the boat. A sergeant first class climbs up the rope ladder and comes over and starts telling people what their orders are going to be, and I was ordered to something called the 13th Military Intelligence Group. I thought, oh, my God, something's wrong here. The colonel who was in charge of us all on the boat, for the boat trip, he got his orders, and he opened it up, and it's the 13th MIG. He said, "What's an MIG?" I said, "The best I know it's a Russian airplane." (laughs) It turned out that he thought he was going to the 1st Infantry Division for a regiment. Well, we got off the boat, and both of us went down to this intelligence group, went through two different fences, guards posted in towers and all the rest of it, and slept in an open bay area over the officers' club. There were a number of other offices there, and they said, "What are you going to do?" I said, "I don't know. I'm here by mistake. I'm headed to the 2nd Armored Division." They said, "No, no, you aren't. We're all in the same business, fellow. Tell us where you're going." And I said, "No, no. I'm an officer, and I'm going to --" They said, "We understood an armored officer was coming, and he was going to go underground and behind the Iron Curtain, and report on the Russian movements." Holy Crow! That's not for me. So the next morning I went down and asked authority to see the commanding officer of the 513th [sic] MIG. He spoke with me, and he said, "No, you're going down. You're not going to do that; that's rumor. You're going down to the headquarters in Heidelberg, and you're going to be an intelligence officer in that headquarters." I said, "I'm not an intelligence officer." He said, "That's your orders." OK. So I went down to Heidelberg. General Jim Phillips was the G2 at the time, and I asked to see him, and I went right up to his office and told him my sad story, that I was going to go to the 2nd Armored Division -- and he was an armored officer -- "Now here I am an untrained specialist in your department." He said, "What were you going to do?" I said, "Well, General Doan in the 2nd Armored Division had accepted me to come and be in tank company." He says, "I'll talk to him about that," and he reached over -- they had a red phone system that red phones went to the different generals in different locations -- he picked it up and dialed 27 or whatever it was, and General Doan answers the phone, and I'm sitting there. He said, "I got a young captain sitting here that tells me he's supposed to be in the division. Tell me about him, what are you going to do with him?" Well, poor old General Doan hadn't remembered much about the phone conversation a couple of 19 months before or something, and said, "Well, I'm going to make him my aide." And he said, "Like hell you are. I'm keeping him here for that." (laughs) I did it all over again for another two years in the headquarters at [Usera?]. [01:26:32] It was a great experience. General and Mrs. Phillips were a mother and dad to us; they'd invite us to Sunday dinner, and little Tom would crawl around the floor or under the table, and General Collier would feed him peanuts or something. It was a wonderful time, and when the Colliers would take a trip and borrow the commander in chief's train, we went with them. It was marvelous. I saw all of Europe. I knew most everything that was going on in the intelligence field, and it was a great experience with wonderful people. But when he got assigned to go back to the United States, I took the Colliers up to the port to put them on. When I came back, this again on the commander in chief's train, I had the train stop in Mannheim, and I got off in Mannheim. I wasn't going to be stopped again and reported in to the 57th Tank Battalion and for the last year there had a tank company. That was probably the greatest experience of my life. It really was a good experience. We were hard training, we were well trained, good people. In the beginning we had a wonderful commander who was a major, and the division commander, General Doan, didn't want to put a lieutenant colonel in that slot. He wanted this man to get that experience, but eventually they had to pull him and let -- the lieutenant colonels were backing up. So we were out maneuvering and we came to the last day of the maneuvers, and the new battalion commander arrives, and we have this party in a beer hall. The new commander arrives, and one of the company commanders in Charlie Company walked up to the head table with two boots of beer. You know what that is? Glass things that replicate a boot. Big. He puts one in front of each of the two commanders and says, "Let's see who's the better man." This poor guy that has just got off the train coming down from Bremerhaven and crossed the ocean picks up his boot and starts to drink. The battalion commander we love drinks it down and wins the contest, and the new battalion commander was so tight from drinking that beer too fast his feet slipped out from under him as he sat at that table and went right down under the table. (laughter) That was his first day of duty, and he didn't improve much after that. We were all pretty cocky, the company commanders; we were doing a lot of good things. But he knew nothing about it. We told him -- we were told that he had served in a tank battalion in World War II, and that's all we knew about him. It sounded great to us, a guy with some real experience. Well, it turns out that he reported in to a replacement company, and they said, "Take this truckload of men and go forward to point A. There will be a sign on the road at so many miles or kilometers. Turn left in there, and that's where your unit will be." Well, he got down there and made the turn, then went up, and three Germans come out and say, "Achtung! Put him in the compound!" and he went directly to the prisoner-of-war camp. He never had any experience. He'd been a public information officer before, and he was terrible. He was so bad that in a morning meeting every time, when he would suggest something the other three company commanders, we'd sort of nod or shake no. And "Well, what's the matter?" You know why? We didn't get any leadership out of him at all. When it came time to leave there, I had probably the most frightening experience in my life. He stood up in front of the entire battalion officer group and said, "Well, now that Captain Todd is leaving maybe I can take command of this battalion." Oh, my God. 20 Oh, my God. He gave me an efficiency report that would sink anybody, but it just turned out that in that moment of time the army changed the efficiency report system whereby your commander rates you, and his boss rates you, and then a third person rates what they did. Well, the third person turns out to have been the fellow that had been recently the brigade commander, and he knew me, he knew my performance, etc., and he sent back the efficiency report to be redone. Ho. (laughs) Yeah. Those were good times though, good times. Scary times, but testing, really testing you. JC: Because you were right there in Germany during really the height of the Cold War. RT: Yeah. As a matter of fact, one time we were out on maneuvers, 200 miles from our base, when the French and British moved into Suez, because the Egyptians said they were taking over the canal. There we are sitting out in the woods saying, "Oh, my God," because the president had said, "Oh, no, you don't." Eisenhower said, "No, you don't. You can't do that. We give you a lot of money to bring your economies back from the war, and we'll stop it tomorrow unless you withdraw." But we didn't know all that, and my guys are saying "We're going to gyro to Cairo," you know, that (laughter) kind of stuff. We finally came back. But if we'd had to go, I haven't seen a unit that would be any more ready than we were. Yeah. It was really a great exper-- In a company command, everybody doesn't have to bypass the battalion commander who's a dud. But when you do have to do that, then you're really thinking on your feet. It was great. JC: What was your next assignment after that? RT: Would you believe back to Fort Knox? JC: Oh, really? RT: Yeah. I went back there to go to the Armor Officer Advanced Course, which was a nine-month course in there, in which they were teaching you at the next level. Now the course we took before at Fort Knox was a course we should have had before we went to Korea. I came away with a great impression of how good that was. It was excellence. When I saw General Collier working with the instructors and telling them how to handle this kind of thing. When I came back three years later, it was a well-organized organization. In fact, General Abrams had been there as the head of the command department. It was a first class education. I really and truly look back upon my Norwich experience as not up to that standard that the army was producing there. At the end of that course I had talked my way into becoming one of the instructors in the command department, and I was thrilled to death about that. On graduation day I'm sitting in my chair on the aisle, and as the assistant commandant went by my seat he stopped and said, "You're going to be working in my office." (laughs) So I then worked for Colonel Chandler, who was a first-rate soldier. He had been horse cavalry, in the Philippines, and was on the Bataan death march. He was really very much a gentleman, very much strong willed, and very much of a tutor, and I worked out of his office. My job was to arrange the schedules of the classes, and we had all kinds of classes -- enlisted classes, officer classes -- so that they would mesh how 21 many people, how many classrooms do we need, how many instructors do we need, on what day are we going to do it? I was bringing home page after page of long paper, and on the kitchen floor working out the details of making this thing work. It was great, but, again, there was an intermediary. There was a lieutenant colonel who was my immediate supervisor who, again, I thought to be a dud. On my first day of working there he said, "That's your desk right over there." And I'm, "Yes, sir." I went over to my desk. Now what do I do? Here I am, I found my desk. There was a major sitting at a desk facing me who never looked up. He was just scribbling away, scared to death of this guy evidently. A few minutes later he came over and said, "Well, here's the first project I want you to do. This is it. I want you to study this, and then rewrite it, and we'll discuss it." Fine. It wasn't five minutes later, he came over and said, "No, I want you to do this one instead." I went through about six of those before I understood what I was doing. I was hopeless that anything was really going to happen. That same day he came over and looked over my shoulder, and I looked up, and he said, "What are you writing there?" I said, "Well, sir, I'm writing myself a note so that I will be able to put these things in the appropriate order." He said, "Well, you're not saying it very well." (laughter) It was awful. My out was Colonel Chandler, and a major got assigned to the office, and he very quickly understood what was going on here and went in and talked to Colonel Chandler, and Colonel Chandler moved him out. Again, we got a very, very fine operating organization going. It was good; it was very successful. But, you know, every time there's some kind of a roadblock in your career, you've got to stop and figure out how the hell you're going to get around it. JC: What was after Fort Knox? RT: Twenty more years of -- let's see. I graduated from Fort Knox. I was selected below the zone for a promotion. Do you know what that means? JC: Uh-uh. RT: When you're considered for promotion a board meets in Washington, and everybody whose career appears between this date and this date is considered. Isn't that right? Well, what they started, and I don't know if they're still doing it or not -- I think they are -- they would go below this zone and choose certain people to be examined with this group, and I was lucky enough to do that and really jumped ahead. In the headquarters there was Major Howard from Norwich University. Major Howard didn't graduate from here, but he was an instructor when I was a student here. He was in another department, or I didn't see much of him. But when I came out on the below-the-zone list, there were two of us at Fort Knox that came out on it, and he called me on the phone, and he said, "Well, I thought Frank would make it, but I never thought you would." (laughter) So things are weird, but Leavenworth was an exciting time. I was a captain. The majority of people were majors and lieutenant colonels. A real shock of my life in the first day was seated at tables, and there's a blank card in front of you, and the instructor said, "Now write your name on it, not your rank. Write your name on that card." Well, the guy sitting opposite me was a lieutenant colonel, and I was a captain, and I don't know his rank. What do I call him? We were all calling each other by their first names 22 rather than you find in a unit. That (inaudible) [01:41:04] like that, I'm up against it here. So I worked hard, harder than I've ever worked, and at the end of the halfway mark in the course they gave us standings of where you stand in the course, and I was number five or something. I said, "I'm working too hard." Yeah, that was good, a good period in our life. We had Saturdays and Sundays off. I had a little golf group I played with on Saturdays, and Michelob beer was local out there. We'd buy a pitcher -- the loser would buy a pitcher of beer, and that was a big deal. That was a big deal. JC: So when did you go to graduate school at the University of Alabama? RT: Strange you should ask that. When I came to the end of the course at Leavenworth a general officer, a brigadier general, came out to the course to announce to the armor officers, to the infantry officers, etc., what your next assignment would be. About the third name he read was a good friend of mine, and when he read off where he was to go this guy went "Ooohhh." The general looked down at him and said, "What's the problem?" He said, "Sir, I don't think anybody in your office ever read my request." "Oh." He said, "Major so-and-so, come out here." The guy comes out from behind the curtain with a big notebook, and the guy flaps through it, and he looks down, and he says, "I don't know what you're complaining about. It says right here, 'Anywhere in the world but Fort Knox.' And you're going to Fort Knox, your second choice." (laughter) Then he got to my name, and he said, "I want to see you right after this." I thought, oh, God, what now? So I went in, and he was in his office. There was a temporary office. And he said, "We've got a problem here," and I said, "Sir, what is it?" He said, "Well, they've got you going to graduate school, and as the chief armor officer I want you to go to an armored unit." I said, "I have a choice?" He said yes. I said, "Where will I go if I go to an armored unit?" He thought for a minute, and he said, "You'll go to the tank battalion in Hawaii." I said, "Can I discuss this with my wife at lunch?" and he said, "Sure," and I came back and said, "We have decided that we're going to go to graduate school," and that's how that worked out. JC: So you went to Tuscaloosa instead of Hawaii. RT: Yeah. (laughs) JC: Now, what degree did you get at Alabama? RT: MBA. It was a good tough course, but it was in the process of changing the curriculum of business schools, and some of it was very tough. Part of it was very simple, but some of it was very tough. I established a schedule where I went in very early in the morning, got in there before 7:00 every morning, went down to the basement of the library where I had an assigned carrel and started working until it was time for a class to begin. I'd go up to the class and go back to the basement, eat my lunch in the basement, go home at 5:00, and hardly ever did any midnight work at home. We lived a good, wonderful family life in Tuscaloosa. Now, it wasn't all easy. There had been the problems of the colleges not admitting blacks, and the president of the United States pushing hard to make them do it. 23 Then there were the riots at Ole Miss, right at that time. The army sent down its chief person who determines whether the applicants will go to college -- army applicants -- and to which college they will go to. So we all gathered, and there were people taking nuclear physics, and [we have to?] discuss with him, and he talked it back and forth, etc. Finally one young captain in the back said, "Sir, this is all very interesting, but the army's practically at war with our citizens. What the hell happen-- What do we do? What are our orders, and what are our instructions here at the University of Alabama, if the same kind of thing breaks out on this campus?" This poor old duffer who'd been the president of some college someplace sort of shook his head and said, "Well, I hope you'd be on the side of the government." (laughter) That hit right in the heart of soldiers. But it was a good program. When I left I was going to be assigned to the headquarters in US Army Europe in the comptroller's office, and you're required to stay in that position for three years to make up for your being chosen for that job. They want to use your knowledge and experience. Just before I left they changed it, and I went to the US Army Support Command in France, which had 57 separate organizations that it commanded, to include a pipeline that came in at St. Nazaire and went out to all of the air bases and army refueling, etc., and repair of tanks, repair of everything. We took German factories over, used Germans. It was a very, very exciting assignment in terms of technology, but I got assigned to the comptroller's office in that damn headquarters, and I was one of three soldiers. The rest were all civilian employees, or French. One of the people that worked for me was from Yugoslavia; he'd escaped Yugoslavia. So it was a mixed up kind of place. We lived at a French house down by the railroad station. We didn't want to live in the government quarters, we'd done enough of that. We wanted to have an experience in France. From that point of view, it was wonderful. The job was terrible, just terrible. They expected me to know everything that they did in their routine because I'd been to this business program. Well, I had to really move fast to catch up with them. My boss was a man by the name of [Birossi?]. He'd been an Italian-American soldier in World War II who married an Italian and never went home, and when they created the support command then he stayed on in Europe and became a very important man in the headquarters as the budget manager of this very vast organization. I worked like hell to try and get it straightened out. They first gave me the responsibility of working the budget of a couple of the major organizations, one the tank rebuild plant, which was -- God, it looked like General Motors out there. I finally got frustrated with it all. We'd all sit in a room, roll out our papers, and bring in the guy, the comptroller, from that organization, and you'd sit facing each other with Mr. [Birossi?] looking over your shoulder, and you'd work out a budget for them. How the hell did I know? I didn't have any basis for doing it, but we'd discuss it to get it. When this was all over and calmed down I said, "This is stupid as hell," to [Birossi?]. He said, "What are you talking about?" And I said, "We've got the world's best information technology program right in this headquarters, those guys that are working the plants do it all by technical means, punch cards, and here we are sitting around trying to argue about a number on a sheet of paper that doesn't mean a damn thing." He said, "What do you suggest?" I said, "I suggest we go to talk to them, get onto their system somehow, and work this thing out that we can make a reasonable stab at it." He said, "OK, wise guy, do it." 24 Now, there was a lieutenant colonel in this overall office who was Birossi's boss, and I went to see him and told him, I said, "Now, I'm not competent to do this. There's no question about it. However, if you give me two of those young captains of finance that work down the hall from me, I can get this thing started and going." So he assigned these two guys to me, and we changed the whole system of how we did the budgeting of US Army Europe. I got some kind of an award for that. Then they put me in another job where I had all kinds of stupid responsibilities. I had a responsibility for efficiency of each of these many, many organizations, and I got permission to send people -- Frenchmen -- back to the United States to be trained in each of those depots to do it. Then we pulled all of this together right as the secretary of defense had initiated a program to improve work force relationships, his program, and they sent it out and said, "Everybody in the army, navy, and the air force will use these procedures." And my two-star boss said, "No, we won't. We're not doing that. We got a god system, we just got it started, and, well, that's the way it will be." OK, you're the boss. So six weeks later, maybe two months later, there's a message sent to the commanding general that said "We're sending over someone from the Department of Defense to look at your program." I got called in to the CG's office, and he said, "You got two weeks to put this program in place." Well, you know, I was put into a position where I got attention, and I could do what I wanted to do, and I could get help to do it, and everything just sort of worked together. It was a great experience. But, again, it's a case of speaking up and saying what you think is wrong and finding a way to do it. I went in on the train from Orleans into Paris to the IBM plant with boxes of punch cards in my (inaudible) [01:53:43] and brought them into IBM, and we worked it out with them to do it at first before we turned it over to our own organization. That's because if we screwed it up, we'd screw them up badly. But those two finance captains did all the work. I just plowed ahead. Another time, in that same job -- I really thought -- when I got there I said, "My career is ruined. My career is ruined. Who's going to believe that I was in a damn headquarters for a support group? No, uh. I'm an armored guy. No." But anyway, they came up with another program, again, out of the Department of Defense. This time it was to work specifically with -- I can't remember the name of it, but, again, it came out of the secretary of defense's office, and again I got the job to do it. But this time I had an opportunity to start from the beginning with it. It was a matter of saving money, and we were supposed to put out programs, out to our subordinate units, and help them find money and other ways of doing business (inaudible) [01:55:09]. We started with the laundries, a simple thing, and went into the laundries with the people we trained, and they would say to the laundress, "How can you do your job better?" They'd say, "Well, I've been working at this for six years. If we did this, and that, and the other thing," and all of a sudden we weren't doing anything but saying "How do you do it?" and then helping them do it, and getting their boss to agree to it. Well, then you had to take all this information and turn it over to another agency who would check your figures, and numbers, and back and forth, and everything. That all seemed to work out, and things were going along rather well when they put me in for an award as the civilian of the year for product improvement. I was called (laughs) into Heidelberg, and they put on a parade, and the commanding general and I are -- there were other people, for other reasons, being recognized that day. I'm standing 25 beside the commanding general when the troops are passing in review, and he said, "What the hell are you doing here? This is a civilian award." I said, "Sir, you signed it." (laughter) And off we went. I just kept working. Living there was great sport, except the French are crazy. We lived in a neighborhood, as I said, on Rue de la Gale, and the house was an old one. It was rent controlled, and we had to slip the landlord money on certain days, and you'd walk up to his house with a paper bag full of money. A door would open, a hand would come out and grab the paper bag out of your thing, the extra money for the -- crazy. In the neighborhood we never made close friends except in one instance. Our youngest daughter, Ellen, went to French school. The other two kids refused; they were smart enough not to do it. Ellen and her friend [Pascale?] (inaudible) [01:57:36] walked to school with her mother and Carol, over to school. The ladies walked back from school. After lunch, walked over, back to get, march them over, again, at the end of the school day. And they talked, and they talked, and they talked. Not a single word of English was ever spoken for three years between these two women. We get back to the United States and got a very nice letter from her, in English, and she said, "You never would have improved your French the way you did if you knew I had been a nanny in Great Britain and speak English." (Cates laughs) Now, that's the dirtiest, rottenest trick I can ever imagine happening. (laughter) When we had a problem with the house, you'd try and go out and find someone that would fix the faucet. Now, there are four sizes of pipe, and there are 12 sizes of faucets, and there are 14 sizes -- and they ask you which one do you want? You don't know. So somebody has to come and measure it and go back, and two days later you've got water running again. When it came time to buy coal, we went down to the place you buy coal, and it was a storefront on the main road, right in the main store, and he's got little glass canisters with different kinds of coal in the window. You don't buy coal that way anywhere else in the world. We went in, and he wanted to know how many radiators we had in the house, and how many veins each radiator had, and how many sections were in the stove, and then he could figure out how many tons it would take to heat the house. He didn't ask if there was any broken windows, or open doors, or boards off on the roof. They did it totally unscientific. Then when you come to that decision, then they say, "Now do you want it from Belgium? Do you want it from --" you know, down the list. We want anthracite from Belgium, OK. Then they come and dump it in the house with buckets in the window of the cellar, and the whole house is covered with coal dust everywhere. And it was expensive. Living there was not easy, but we made a pact that we were going to go once a month with the kids to Paris, every time, every month, and we did, and we traveled a lot. Not any great distances, but we loved parts of France. But the French were very difficult to live with. JC: Oh, I'm sure. I've been there once. (laughs) RT: The worst one was my father had a cousin who was, in relationship to Dad, it was about six up from him in the corporation, and he was the chairman of the board. We got a call that he was coming to visit the French company that was owned by the American company, and they were going to come down and see us in this hovel (laughs). And just about the time we knew that they were coming but not exactly when they were coming, 26 the French left us with a bit of a problem. When they put in the sewer system, they left the septic tank in the house, in the basement, made of clay, and it began to leak. Do you have any idea what living in that house was like? You couldn't flush a toilet. When I'd go off to work and leave Carol, they had a deal with these crazy guys coming in, and eventually they came in. One guy came in, and he took off the top of this thing, and then he went away. She chased him down, and he said, "Oh, you've got to hire somebody else. The union won't allow me to put the hose down in here and suck out what's left. You've got to find that guy." And it went on, and on, and on, and trying to live in that house. Fortunately we got it cleaned up before Uncle George showed up for lunch. (laughter) JC: Sounds like it was quite difficult living in that house. RT: It was very difficult. Every single day one of us crossed the street to the bakery that was directly across the street from us, and we'd order a demi pan, and bring it back for breakfast, or something else. And every single day that one of us went, my own experience was I'd walk in the door -- "Bonjour, Madame." (laughter) The only guy that spoke to us lived next door, and the reason he spoke to us was that nobody else in the neighborhood, or the town, or the city would speak to him, because he had been a butcher during the Nazi occupation and gave the Nazis all the best cuts of meat. We had no phones. It took three years to get a phone, and it was a three-year tour. If you got a phone, you had nobody to call; they'd all gone home. They're crazy, just crazy. (laughs) JC: So what was the next assignment after France? RT: Well, while in France the Vietnam War broke out, and people lieutenant colonel level in Europe were being pulled back to the United States and given a command in Vietnam. So I applied to get a command in Vietnam, and they said, "Oh, no, no, no, no, you haven't finished your tour for having gone to graduate school. You can't possibly go." This is talking to somebody back in Washington. Then another job opened up, and they needed a lieutenant colonel in an armored battalion, and I called them back again. I said, "I'll come back to this job after that. How about that?" "Nope, we can't do that. We can't do that." Eventually they said, "OK, when you come home from --" I put enough pressure on them. "When you come home from France, we'll send you to Vietnam." And when we came home from France, they said, "No, you're going to go to the Armed Forces Staff College. You've been selected among the army, navy, and air force to go to the Armed Forces Staff College, for six months. After that, we'll get you a job that will get you to Vietnam." Well, you know, it's frustrating, just terribly frustrating. After the Armed Forces Staff College they told me I would go to Vietnam, but first I would go to pick up 57 tanks that had just been manufactured of a new design, and I was to form the tank battalion in the United States, train it in the United States, and take it to Vietnam. When that day came, ready to go, we had three rounds blow up in the chamber back at Aberdeen Proving Ground, and they said, "Hold it. You're no longer on the list to go. But you are going to go to the Naval War College." I couldn't get to Vietnam! It was very difficult. 27 JC: What was the Naval War College like? RT: Terrible. The Naval War College, well, we called it the sleeping room. They had two major speakers every day, one in the morning, and one in the afternoon. That was fine. I mean, I loved to hear them, and they did have a message, but it wasn't work. It was sitting there like you're turning on the television. There was no challenge to this thing at all. Now you could go and get a master's degree along with it from George Washington, but I couldn't, because I had a master's degree, so they weren't going to let me take that program. So they hired somebody the University of Massachusetts had fired from their Economics Department, an old man, to be my mentor and take me through a separate program -- nothing comes out of it other than a dissertation at the end. OK, I'll put up with it, but he was awful, and it was a waste of my time. You never had time between these people to really go to the library and do something. It was 20 minutes. What can you do in the library in 20 minutes? No, you don't. Everyone went and get good coffee, sat around and talked, etc. Oop, time to go back into the bedroom. There was nothing going on in terms of substance in the place. When I had my first time as directing my little group, I worked long and hard on the assignments, and came in the next morning and said, "OK, let's see. Now we had readings in this one, and then we had a differing opinion from this requirement, and then this one, and another one. Commander Jones, what do you think about this?" "Oh, shit," he said, "You don't think I pay any attention to that, do you? I'm in the George Washington program. I'm not going to do any of this." That was a general attitude. There wasn't any depth to what we were doing. One day the admiral in charge, who'd married a British lady and had just come back from another tour in London, said, "How would you like to have lunch at my house with a guest speaker, Todd?" I said, "Gee, that would be very nice, sir." I got up there to discover there were 12 or 13 of us at separate tables and he and the speaker was at another table. What did we do? We sat around and chatted, and ate his food, and left. He said, "How'd you like that?" I said, "What are you referring to, sir?" He said, "Well, the opportunity to be with the speaker." I said, "We weren't with the speaker. You were with the speaker." "Well, how would you handle that?" "I'd put in a round table, and we'd all sit around and talk." "What a great idea." Really, really bad stuff. So he did, and then he invited me to come, and I went, and he said, "How did that go?" I said, "Sir, that was wonderful. But if you did that in the classrooms it might help, too." "We don't have round tables in the classrooms?" He'd never been in a classroom. We didn't have one single naval officer who was nuclear qualified come to the course. They sent them to the National War College. We didn't have one single graduate of a senior college who was on the faculty. I could go on, and on, and on about how bad it was. But one day, in Vietnam, I was sitting at my desk outside General Abrams's office, and I got a call from the naval head in Vietnam. I'm trying to think of his name. I know it as well as I know my own. But anyway, he called me and said, "Russ, I got to see General Abrams." I said, "Well, he's tied up at the moment. Come on up and sit down, and I'll get you in just the minute I can break into it." He said, "Good," and he came up. We sat there, and he said, "I got to talk to General Abrams. They're going to announce this afternoon that I'm the new chief of naval operations, and I don't want him to hear it from anybody else but me." I said, "Oh, have I been waiting for this." He said, 28 "What are you talking about?" I said, "You can do something about the Naval War College that I couldn't," and I laid it out for him, and he fired the guy when he got back there. This is Zumwalt, Admiral Zumwalt. He fired the guy and changed all the programs. I mean, they were tough on him, and they've got a good school there now, or at least the last I knew of it, a very good school that has been accredited. But it was awful. JC: Did you finally get to Vietnam after the Naval War College? RT: Yeah, that's why I was sitting in General Abrams's office. I was to be sent over to be on the command list, which meant this list of people the army feels are capable of doing a job as colonel in a combat unit. They sent my name over, and then they called me back and said, "We've withdrawn your name." (sighs deeply) I said, "Come on, guys. This isn't fair." He's "Hold it, hold it, hold it. They're looking for an assistant to General Abrams, and we've sent your name in." I said, "Look, I've met General Abrams a few times. I don't think he was very impressed with me. I don't think he'll select me off of any list of yours." He said, "There is no list. We only sent your name." (laughter) So I went over there, and I sat for, oh, eight months I guess in General Cao Van Vien's office, who was the head of the Vietnamese armed forces, and I acted as a liaison between General Abrams and General Cao Van Vien, of which there was no requirement. Those guys talked to each other whenever they wanted to. But I represented General Abrams when General Cao Van Vien called the other -- the Koreans, the Australians, the New Zealanders, etc., etc. -- together on a Monday morning to have a meeting, and that was interesting, and I learned a lot, and I met a lot of people. Eventually the secretary of the staff rotated home, and I took his slot. You actually work for the chief of staff, but I read and decided which messages that came in that night would go into General Abrams the next morning, so I got to work very, very early and stayed very, very late, day after day after day, seven days a week. But I really loved working for the guy. Every Saturday morning we would meet with the commanders of the army, navy, air force, etc., the CIA, in the basement of our building, and it was general so-and-so, admiral so-and-so, etc., and Colonel Todd. And Colonel Todd sat in the back of the room and checked -- again, a great learning experience. Watching the interrelationship between these very, very senior commanders was a great experience. Then I went with General Abrams every Monday morning down to brief the ambassador. We'd drive down in his sedan. On Sunday I'd prepare a book for him that he'd go over, and then he'd have that in front of him. He never read it. He never sat in front of the ambassador and read it. I'd be on pins and needles all the time that he'd turn to me and say, "What the hell's this?" (laughs) But he was great. Then I got a command. I left the headquarters and went out and joined the 24th Division as a brigade commander, and I'd been there about eight days when it was announced that the brigade was to go home. (laughs) The next day I got a call on the radio, out flying around in my helicopter -- I had seven battalions in the brigade at the time -- from the corps commander, General Davidson, and General Davidson said, "Meet me at coordinates so-and-so," and we both flew into a point. He said, "I'm pulling you out of this. I've got a problem with the Royal Thai Army. The officer we have working 29 with them is not acceptable any longer to the Royal Thai Army. I need somebody tomorrow, and you're it." That was the craziest thing I've ever been involved in. Wonderful, wonderful Thai commander, who began his military experience at age five in a military academy run by the government. He finished his education in France. The French owned Indonesia. Thailand (inaudible) [02:16:30]. So there we were. Day in and day out, he and I would receive the same briefing. He'd get it in Thai, and his aide-de-camp would give it to me in English. We never ever, ever came to the same solution. We were generations in thought apart. For example, in World War II Thailand never declared war on anybody, but went to war against the Allied forces when they thought Japan was winning. This fellow was a captain in the Thai Army, and he did something very spectacular -- whatever it was, I don't know, very heroic. He was called back to the capital, and he was given the Royal Order of the White Elephant or something. They'd give out five for every war. This was something very, very special, parades, the whole business. He went back to his unit, and then the Thais decided that the Japanese weren't winning the war, and they changed and became our allies. Now you're not going to believe this. They called him back and took the medal because he was fighting on the wrong side. (laughs) I could go on forever on this. My brain couldn't absorb it. When I'd left that and gone back to the United States, I guess when this happened -- I don't remember where I was, but anyway, I wrote him a letter, and I said, "What in the world is going on in Bangkok? You were the commander of the 1st Division, responsible for the security of Bangkok. Your father-in-law is the dictator. They're rioting in the streets, and, to the best I know, nothing's happening." He wrote back to me, after some (inaudible) [02:19:06] time, and said, "Well, you just don't understand our way of thinking. The soldiers had killed some civilians who were rioting, so I went back to my BOQ and stayed there two weeks, and when I came back my father-in-law had been deposed, and the fighting was over." Huh? (laughs) And it wasn't that he wasn't a good soldier, and it wasn't that he was afraid of anything. No, we'd fly around in his damn helicopter and take it places I never would have gone. On the other hand, he had some VIPs coming over, and he said, "We can't take the helicopter today. I'm going to use it tomorrow for some Thai VIPs, and I don't want any fingerprints on it, I don't want to make sure there's no bullet holes in the thing. We'll just take this other thing." What? We couldn't come together. At one point, the real one that almost got me in trouble -- I think it was on Thanksgiving -- our base camp also had three units in it from the 1st Cavalry Division, and the Thais, and the Thais who were responsible for the security, and I was responsible to the US headquarters. Well, on the big army base, maybe 15 miles away, on Thanksgiving night everything went up in the air, flares, and shooting, and machine guns, and all the Thais thought this was great, and they all did it. He called me in the next morning, and he laid me out. He said, "No Thai would ever do that. Your Americans did this." Well, OK, I'll suck it up. "I assure you it won't happen again, sir." So come New Year's time, I put out to my staff with each of his units, where they normally served, to stay with them all night and record everything that happened in that TOC. Next morning he got me again when I went in there. I said, "Sir, before we say anything else, I suggest you talk to your TOC officer." He went down there, and those 30 guys, we made them record everything, and he discovered that it was his units that were doing it. What do you suppose his answer to that one was? JC: I don't know. RT: He called in his senior officers and said, "I'm resigning from the army. You've let me down." And he went back into his hooch and stayed there for about three days. I woke up at the end of three days early in the morning, and the whole goddamn Thai Army that was posted in Vietnam was out there in a formation. I walked out to see what was going on and stood behind him -- he was up on a platform -- and they all apologized, etc., and he forgave them, and they went back into the woods to their positions. They'd left their fighting positions to come back and apologize to the commanding general. JC: Oh, wow. RT: (laughs) You can find one worse than that, I'll bet. My goodness. JC: Want to stop again? (break in audio) JC: Let's stop here, because we've done about another hour and 10 minutes. (break in audio) RT: Let's -- (break in audio) [02:23:15] JC: All right, this is Joseph Cates. Today is May 19, 2016. This is my second interview with Major General Russell Todd. This interview is taking place at the Sullivan Museum and History Center. This interview is sponsored by the Sullivan Museum and History Center and is part of the Norwich Voices Oral History Project. So when we left off last time we had gone through Vietnam, and you're ready for your next assignment. What was that? RT: OK. When the Royal Thai Army left Vietnam I moved out to a brigade, as I said earlier. But the time with the brigade was very unsatisfactory to me as a professional. It was a little more than a month, and that's not what I considered to be a command. So thinking about what would happen when I got home, I called to the Pentagon, talked to the people in armor branch. A lieutenant colonel sits on a desk and shuffles the papers for colonels and helps make the decisions. I told him I wanted to have a particular command at Fort Lewis, Washington, that I knew the command was about to change. And they said, "Oh, we've already appointed somebody to that port. But you are coming back to go to the Pentagon." 31 I had fought off the Pentagon earlier in my tour. When I was working for General Abrams I got a call from the Pentagon that said "We're bringing you back to the United States because a new position has opened up, and it calls for a brigadier general, and although you're only a colonel, we want you to fill that position." And I said, "Tell me about it." They said, "Well, you're going to be the army's first drug-and-alcohol-abuse officer." I said, "You've been watching what I'm drinking." He said, "No, this is what we've got in mind for you." And I said, "That isn't going to work. It just isn't going to work. I'm over here on a two-year tour, and if you want me to leave here, I'll give you General Abrams's telephone number, and you can call him and ask him to release me." Well, no, they didn't think they would do that. (laughs) So when I went back I went to the Pentagon, and there I went to work for a four-star general who I had met several times, because he traveled to Vietnam back and forth, General Kerwin, a wonderful, wonderful soldier. And when I reported in he told me that I was going to be the head of the department that he supervised for the Modern Volunteer Army. My job would be to coordinate all of the programs that were going on both at posts, camps, and stations around the country and around the world, and also within the Pentagon, to evaluate where we ought to be going. Well, OK. It wasn't my first choice. I had about, oh, 10 lieutenant colonels working for me in a very small office that didn't have any windows, and there was a lieutenant general working in the chief of staff's office whose title was the chief of modern volunteer army. So I was torn between two very senior officers who didn't agree with each other very often, and the job went on, and back and forth, and up and down, but a lot of answering letters from the Congress and this kind of thing, and then evaluating things that came from the field. Well, one day I was up in the next level in the Pentagon, because I'd been called by that lieutenant general, and he started chewing me out just something awful for reasons I couldn't explain. Finally he said, "I'm going down and see General Kerwin." My boss. What the hell's this about? So I was standing alone in his office. He went out a side door, and I said, "I've got to get to General Kerwin quick." So I picked up -- they have red phones that go between the very senior officers. I picked it up and dialed General Kerwin's office, and he has to answer that, no matter what's going on. And I said, "Sir, we got trouble," and told him what was going on. I saw him later in the day. He said, "Thanks. That really made a difference." From that moment on, he treated me like I was one of his best friends and had faith in what I was doing. Now, they did bring back in a major general who had just stopped commanding the 82nd Airborne Division, and he came in, and he was my immediate supervisor. But General Kerwin made a proposal -- not a proposal -- instructions to everybody about that time that said "Everybody that works for me in the deputy chief of staff personnel office is going to spend four years in this job." I could see my chances of getting a second shot at a brigade just going out the window. Carol and I had bought a house in Washington, the first home we ever owned. In France it was a rental, and everything else was army quarters. So this was special. She loved that house. She took a job in Washington, DC, in the personnel department, and then she had done a lot of that before, and that was sort of a big part of what she had done at Radcliffe after Smith, and she loved that job. In fact, everywhere we went she tried to find a job that would keep her busy and active. 32 So there we were, balancing back and forth. Now what do I do? Well, I'll go back to my old trick and call the people in my branch on the phone, and I called this young man early one morning before anybody else was in the office, and he happened to be there. I told him my plight, that I'd been really cheated in that one month I'd had in the thing, and General Davidson had said I was coming to Europe with him to command a brigade, and that didn't work out once he found out I'd never been in the Pentagon. "So I want a command, and I want to lay it out right now. I want you to start working on it." He said, "Sir, I'm not sure I can do that." I said, "Well, what time do you come to work?" He said, "Well, I'm in here by 8:00 every morning." I said, "Get in at 7:30 on Monday, because I'm going to call you every goddamn Monday I'm sitting at this desk," and I did. Eventually he said, "I've made an appointment with you with my boss, Colonel [Touche?], who oversees all the branches for colonels." I walked over, and it was my old friend from Fort Knox who had been the senior aide when I was the junior aide to General Collier. He had talked it over with the committee that makes these kinds of decisions, and they were going to put my name in nomination to go back onto the brigade commanders list. Great. A few weeks later I get a phone call that says "We put your name before the committee, and you are on the list, and you're number two." Uh-oh. I'm supposed to spend four years working for General Kerwin? (laughs) So a little later they call back and said, "Whoa. Wait. In the 2nd Armored Division the brigade commander has moved up to be chief of staff, and that brigade is open." I said, "OK. Now you guys call General Kerwin and tell him that you're pulling me out." They said, "Like hell we will." (laughter) So I went to see General Kerwin, and he sort of grimaced and (inaudible) [02:32:24]. He said, "You know my policy." I said, "Yes, I do, sir, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me." And he said, "I'll tell you tomorrow." So the next day he called me, and he said, "Against my better judgment I'm going to let you go to that command. But let me tell you this. The day that's over you're coming back to work for me." I said, "Yes, sir. Thank you." I ran home. (laughs) A little later, in time, the moving truck was in front of the house. I'd gone home, checked out of the office, done everything appropriately, and gone back, and there was a phone call waiting for me at home. General Kerwin. He went on to say what he really wanted me to do, wouldn't I know, is that -- "Sir, we've made our deal," and he says, "OK, but remember, I'm going to get you when you get (inaudible) [02:33:21]." And that was very pleasing to me. I loved the idea of working for him. But, again, it was a matter of just working your way through the system. It was terribly important to my career and to me. People were telling me that "You don't have to do this" kind of thing. You know, "You've done all those kinds of things." But no, that wasn't the career I wanted. So I went to the 2nd Armored Division and took over the 3rd Brigade of the 2nd Armored Division at Fort Hood, Texas, and that was a real fun thing. I really enjoyed it. I had a lot of good people working for me. Some of them went on to become general officers later on. The first thing that happened was they told me that the brigade in one month is going to move to Germany on Operation [Forger?]. Does that mean anything to you? Well, in the Cold War we had built all kinds of home hutches and places to store tanks and materials that take a lot of time to get into the theater. If they said, "OK, the balloon went up. Come over here," you wouldn't have had any -- you'd have to wait for your 33 tanks for a month. So they had all those vehicles and stuff over there, and every year we went over and exercised the idea of flying over -- not me, the army did. It was my brigade's turn, and it was just great. I had planned that thing for every possible contingency, in my mind, and we laid it out with the staff. I said, "Now if this happens, or that happens, or this happens, this is what we'll do. Plan A, B, C, and D." And damn, I figured everything except it was going to snow at Fort Hood, and the air force wouldn't show up. (laughter) So we were about two days late getting there, and it slowed things up. But we went out on maneuvers for about a month and a half, and that was a great experience. I'd done it as a company commander when I was stationed in Europe, but as a brigade -- when I went over I've been detached from the 2nd Armored Division of the United States and attached to the 1st Infantry Division, when I got over to Europe. There for the first time I met a fellow named (laughs) -- I met someone, a senior officer, a brigadier general who, because my brigade wasn't part of his division, I had to go through the ropes of him looking over my shoulder for the first three weeks of what we were doing. It wasn't easy. Eventually he and I had a good reputation among each other, and then we're good. It worked out pretty well. Well, his name is Fuller, Fred Fuller. Just to move that part of the story a little further forward, when I went to Forces Command he was the DESOPS, and I was the assistant -- correction, he was the DESPER, personnel, and I was the assistant DESOPS. And again, good friends, you know. No, sir. I had to prove myself all over again to him. That was tough. That was tough. Then when I became division commander at Fort Hood, would you believe they made him the corps commander, and my boss again? And again, I went through the process. I called it rook training, he wanted to test me on everything that was going on, and then eventually he agreed, and we got along. That was a very difficult relationship I had with that individual. So we came back from Germany after the Reforger, and it was time to change division commanders. A general officer that I had met once or twice but didn't know came in as the two-star commanding the (inaudible) [02:38:26]. This was a fight for my life. He, in my opinion, didn't represent a good soldier. He would drive in his jeep with the two stars on the front, down the street, and the men in the division would say, "Hi, General," and he'd wave back, "Hi." No saluting, none of this. He would come around in my battalion and ask the company commander and the battalion commander to see their operational reports, and particularly the readiness reports, whether or not this tank would go or that one. He required them, not required them, but pushed hard for them to like take something off this tank and put it on that tank, and now we've created another tank that this one isn't working, this one if you take the parts and put it on this one, that's one less tank, but will look that much better. It was everything how you looked. Eventually he was promoted to lieutenant general and shipped to Europe, and his chief of staff caught on to his way of life, reported it. He got thrown out of the army, reduced to major general, and was retired. But that was a tough fight, that was a tough fight. In town now there's a major general, retired, John Greenway. Maybe you've met Phyllis. JC: I have. RT: Well, John Greenway was my chief of staff in the brigade, and I don't know how many times he saved my life. He'd say, "No, no, no, don't go up there and tell that general off. 34 Don't do it. Stop here." One time I actually said, "The hell with you, John, I'm going up there." I was really mad. Again, he had ordered my people to do something that was not proper. So John called up the division chief of staff, who was a good friend, and said, "Russ is on the way. Stop him." (laughs) So I never got in to see him, and I calmed down, and the chief of staff discussed it with me in a way. But it was a difficult, difficult system to live with, but I had wonderful people working for me. JC: Well, that's good. RT: Yeah. JC: What year is this? RT: Oh, my God. (inaudible) [02:41:04] I can't remember my birthday. (laughter) It was about '60 something, yeah. I came back to the United States, and I was assigned to forces command, where General Kerwin was, the man that said, "You're going to go work for me," and I went to work for General Kerwin just as I'd been promoted by the system to be brigadier general. I worked for him for two years and then another year with General Rogers, who went on to be the chief of staff of the army, and it was great. Real professionals who understood various ways of handling people beautifully. I must admit, he had a chief of staff who wasn't quite up to speed in my opinion, and as a result I found myself bypassing the chief of staff, which really isn't a very good idea. But both General Kerwin and General Rogers, when I was there, would call me on the phone directly and ask me to do something. As the junior brigadier general at Fort McPherson, Georgia, they immediately appointed me to be club officer, and to be the president of the Association of the United States Army chapter at Fort McPherson. I was really the junior guy in that headquarters as far as a general officer is concerned. The biggest thing that happened to me really there was that that's when we had the baby lift out of Vietnam, and then we had the evacuation of Vietnam. In the operations business at forces command, we had the responsibility of preparing those units in the United States, wherever they might be involved, to prepare them for the influx of people. I was up a lot of nights and really mad at the air force sometimes. They would bring in planes early, before we could finish taking people off the previous planes and get them, kind of thing. They finally came around. But it was a real wonderful experience as far as I'm concerned. I had the thrill of getting a thank you letter from the president and being called in by the State Department, who had the responsibility of taking these people once they arrived in the United States -- when they arrived in the United States the army was responsible for them. We took old barracks and tried to fix them up to be for families and all the rest of it. And the next step was to put them out into the population in America, and that was done by the State Department. At the end of this, the State Department gave me an award and invited me over to Foggy Bottom, and it was carried out in the formal part of that. It's a very ordinary-looking building, but inside, on the top floor, they have collected and put in there all the furnishing and antiques of America. They would go to somebody that had something that the State Department wanted, and they would say "We would like to have it, and we will replicate it exactly, and give you back the replication." They built -- it's a museum, it's a wonderful, wonderful museum of 35 American furniture through time. I was really impressed with it being there. I wasn't that impressed with the State Dept- people in Vietnam. (laughs) It was very interesting. JC: Yes, sir. So this was around 1975, that would be (crosstalk; inaudible) [02:45:47]. RT: Yeah, that's right. Yeah. I did one or two year. JC: Where were you from Fort McPherson? RT: From Fort McPherson, when my immediate boss left General Rogers called me in and said, "I want you to be my full-time top guy and deputy chief of staff operations." I said, "No, General, that isn't right." "What are you talking about, it isn't right?" I said, "You want someone that's been a division commander to be in that job. I mean, you're dealing with all those division commanders, and if the guy that's passing the instructions hasn't had the experience of being a division commander, it doesn't come through right." And he said, "All right. All right." About a year later I was on a board in Washington. You're sent in to do a lot of those things. Interestingly enough, on this particular one I was the head of the board for captains being promoted to major, and I got in trouble with General Rogers. The instructions we had were "These are the formulas, etc., that you follow when you're looking at the history of their being in the service. You can add to this other things, if you, as a board, want to do it." The first thing we added to it was that any captain who had served a normal period of time as a captain in the combat arms branches and had not had a company wasn't to be promoted on this occasion to major. Passing up a captain, you pass up the real army and the real understanding of the army, and, oh, boy. It turns out that we eliminated from being promoted five captains at West Point, instructors, and that reverberated around the world. (laughs) General Rogers finally calmed down. Then on another occasion when I was away in Washington he called me on the phone and said, "The major generals promotion list has just come out." I said, "Oh, good. Who's on it?" and they said, "You are." Oh, wow. After I went back he called me in his office and said, "Now, I'm going to send you to Fort Hood to command a division." Previous discussion, you got to have a command. I said, "Oh, my. Where's George going?" And he looked at me with this great strain on his face and said, "George who?" I said, "George Patton, 2nd Armored Division." I had been in the 2nd Armored Division twice. Four men have commanded the 2nd Armored Division, three of them during World War II. I knew that was my place in life. Well, he said, "You're going to the 1st Cav." Of course, when I'd been there as a brigade commander the 1st Cav was the enemy. (laughter) It was a little difficult to change my mindset that I was now the head of the 1st Cavalry Division, but it turned out to be a good assignment, too. We were immediately assigned a mission of working on something that was called Division '86, and this was the '76-'77 time frame. What we would do is to experiment with different organizational concepts, try them out, and another R&D organization would evaluate whether this was a good idea, or whether it wasn't a good idea. But, man, was that a lot of work. We had soldiers picking up their mattresses and marching over two streets, and then joining another company, because now we were trying -- we were going to have tank platoons with only four tanks rather than five tanks, 36 and these guys had to fill in for the -- you know, back and forth, and up and down. It was a crazy time, but it was very, very rewarding. We lived next door to George Patton and Joanne Patton, and as a matter of fact we had become very close friends over the time we were in the army. We went home on vacations sometimes by accident at the same time, back in New England, and other times purposefully. But we celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary together, both divisions, at the club, and it was officers. It was really good sport. JC: Was that your last command? RT: No. They sent me to -- at one Fort Hood, after two years of commanding the division, I went down and commanded something called [Tecada?] [02:51:38], which was a research and development experimental station kind of thing. I was doing to the rest of the world what they'd been doing to me, for two years I guess, at which point I was shipped over to Europe to be the deputy chief of staff for operations under General Kroesen. He was one of the most magnificent soldiers I'd ever met. I worked for him once before for a short time, but he was first class. Then I got a call from Loring Hart, president of Norwich University, who I'd gotten to know -- over his 10-year span as president -- pretty well. In my traveling around at various times, I was the head of the Norwich Club of Georgia, the Norwich Club of Fort Hood, the Norwich Club in Europe. They'd come over to visit, and we became close. I had come home on leave to see my dad, who was in bad trouble health wise, and I got a call from Loring Hart to my dad's home down in New Hampshire. He said, "I need you to come up here. I need to talk to you; it's important." And I said, "Gee, I don't know. Dad is not well, I don't know how long he's going to live, and I can't be here very long, so I really and truly want to see as much of him as I can." He said, "Well, afterward, after this weekend" -- it was a big alumni weekend -- "I'll stop in to see you." I said OK. Well, Mother got a hold of me, and Dad got a hold of me and said, "Go on up there." Dad said, "Get a hold of my classmates and tell them I'll be there next year." Well, I knew most of his classmates. When I arrived I found them at lunch in the Armory, and I walked down to the table, the half where they were, and started saying this lie about my father, he's going to be getting well, and he'll see you next year when he comes. All of a sudden the most unusual thing happened. There was this great noise in the Armory, and it kept getting louder and louder and louder. As this individual coming into the room got closer to our table, I discovered that it was General Harmon coming back, and all of these people were saying, "Ernie, Ernie, Ernie, Ernie." I couldn't believe it, you know, really and truly. It showed me just exactly how much he was loved by this institution. That doesn't mean he didn't make a lot of mistakes at times, but he really pulled us out of the woods. So Loring Hart stops in at the house and says, "The board at Norwich University has told me that 10 years is enough, and I'm going to retire. I want you to put your name on the list to be considered." I said, "You're a PhD, you taught English, you became the dean of the university. I don't have any of that." He said, "And you don't need it either, because I'm absolutely certain they're going to choose a soldier." I said, "What do you know, I'm qualified." I went back to Europe, told my boss, and then came back. I made a couple of trips back and forth. I told my boss, which was General Kroesen, what was 37 going on, and then went to see the chief of staff of the army to tell him that I was putting in my papers. You know, after you've been division commander you owe the army something, because of the experience they've given you. So I went to see General "Shy" Meyer, who I'd known in Vietnam, and I was a little dubious here. What will he say? So I told him, and he jumped up from behind his chair, rushed around to my side of his desk, shook my hand, and said, "Boy, that's just exactly what I want to do when I get out." (laughter) Then, unfortunately, and this doesn't have to be spread around, he told me that my name had been submitted to be promoted to Lieutenant General, and it is now before the Congress. Had I not put this in and had I been selected, I was going to go to one of two different jobs, and neither one of them sounded as much fun to me as coming home. Not that I could change my mind. Once you've told the army you're retiring, you're retiring. You don't change your mind. So that's how I got here. JC: What were the other two choices? RT: To be the chief of staff of USEUCOM, which was for the European theater of all of the activities there, and the other one was on the joint staff, doing the DES-OPS kind of work, which is called the J5. JC: So you come to Norwich. Talk a little bit about the application process, because I know Phil Marsilius says in his oral history that they gave you an eight-point plan that they wanted implemented. RT: Yeah. Very unusual I thought, and very useful. Before I get to that (laughs), Carol and I came. We went to New York City and joined a committee of the board who were involved in the selection process. The plane was late, the taxis weren't running, and we were late getting to this thing. Carol was a little nervous that that showed that maybe we weren't working hard enough to get there. They said to me, "We've just finished lunch. Do you want something to eat?" and I said, "Oh, yeah. How about a bowl of onion soup?" Carol said to me afterward, "You could have chosen anything but that cheese dangling out of your mouth." (laughter) But, to me, we had a wonderful conversation, and quite frankly I left in the cab going back to the airport with a member of the board who sat there and congratulated us, because they were certain that the board was now going to select us. Yeah, interesting. Where were we in our discussion? JC: The eight-point plan. RT: Yeah. I can't tell you what the eight-points are right now, but they were all reasonable, one of which was to make Vermont College work, the system of the two institutions together, and that's interesting, too. On that point I tried very hard -- they put a lot of pressure on Loring to go up to Vermont College at least twice a week. He'd go home, changed out of his uniform into civilian clothes, go up to Vermont College, and I don't know what he did, presumably he did good things, and came back again. I got into that routine with him, and I found that Vermont College was in deep trouble, I mean, in my opinion. Over time Vermont College had reduced the quality of their education in order 38 to sustain the number of students they needed, and they had all kinds of programs going that didn't make a lot of sense. They had a nursing program that was excellent. Excellent. They had just bought some programs from -- oh, what's the name of it? JC: Goddard? RT: Goddard College, and they were difficult to mesh into the family. For example, I hadn't been here very long, and I got a call from Mrs. Lippincott, who was the chief officer of Vermont College and had previously been Loring's assistant. I got a call that said, "There's going to be a graduation on Friday" -- this was about Wednesday -- "and it's going to be outside at Vermont College. It's going to be one of the Goddard programs that's graduating at this time. They would like to invite you to be part of their graduation." So I said, "Fine, I'll be there." But before I went I hadn't heard anything more, so I called up to find out, and I said, "Now, what's my role in this? Do I hand out the diplomas? Do I make a speech, do I congratulate them from the platform? What do I do?" They said, "Oh, no, they just want you to sit there and be present. They do all this themselves." OK. I can live with that, and we'll see what happens. The first student to graduate came up, gave a little speech, each one of them, and then took their diploma and put it from their left hand to their right hand, and went back to their chair. The institution wasn't involved. This happened seven or eight times before I really said this is something we've got to look at. Then they decided, or they didn't then decide, the next thing was to have a musical rendition. They had a fellow with a fife and a piano player, and they pushed the piano out toward the group, and the front leg broke off pushing it through the grass. They somehow got it jacked up and started, and the flute player -- well, it was awful, just awful. The next day I said to my vice president, Jim Galloway, major general, retired, I told Jim what had happened, and he said, "You know, you weren't the first. I was the first. The same sort of thing went on, but it was crazier when I was up there." I said, "Tell me." He said, "The flute player was in a tree." (laughter) So we spent some time trying to bring it into the focus. Quite frankly they had some fine professors. They just didn't have a system involved. JC: I've always heard Goddard is a little strange. RT: Well, put it this way. One time Carol and I invited the president of -- oh, in Burlington. JC: UVM? RT: N

Issue 57.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1998. ; religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review for Religious is a forum for. shared reflection on the lived experience~ of all who find, that the church's rich heritages of gpirituality support their personal and apostolic ¯ Christian lives. The articles in ~he journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (1SSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the .Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) cbntained 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 perxnission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for r ligiou$ Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 34 48 leadership Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era Sandra M. Schneiders IHM offers an analysis of changing worldviews as an aid to understanding present-day religious congregations and exercising effective leadership in them. Leadership for the Common Good Donna J. Markham OP focuses on three areas of leadership skill development: conflict management, guarding against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium Anne Munley IHM sees congregational leadership as being the work of impassioned hearts sharing, finding, and making meaning in concert with all the members, with a view to warm cooperation in endeavors of burning urgency. 60 67 tradition Stability: A Monastic Charism Retrieved Joel Rippinger OSB explores stability as a matter of heart and place in the light of contemporary rootedness. History's Role in Defining Spiritual Direction Steve R. Wigall proposes that contemporary spiritual direction needs to embrace openly its historical and theological variety. Review for Religious 77 88 prayer Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms: Are They Contemplation? Ernest E. Larkin OCarm takes a discerning look at contemporary personal prayer practice and terminology against the background of centuries-long traditions. Union with God according to John of the Cross Paul J. Bernadicou SJ describes some aspects of the sanjuanist process towards intimacy with God. departments 4 Prisms 94 Canonical Counsel: Life Consecrated by Profession of the Evangelical Counsels 100 Book Reviews Jant~aty-Februat~ 1998 I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of life. prisms 4 T citizens of the United States in recent years have been reinforcing a reputation for being a people that has lost its sense of the sanctity of human life. After a brief lull in the use of the death penalty for what is considered heinous crimes, more and more individual states have been seeking execution for serious crimes committed by both men and women. Then, when we look to the beginning of life, we find that abortion in the United States, even in late term, is justified through the most permissive legal understanding allowed by any Western nation. Finally, when we consider the possible end of life, assisted suicide for the elderly or for the chron-ically ill is already legal in one state and is being promoted by a number of people who defend what is euphemisti-cally called "mercy killing." As we come ~o the last years of this millennium, this most powerful, prosperous, and well-educated nation is sadly being identified as a people that readily "takes life." The year 1998 focuses upon the Holy Spirit in our Christian preparations for entering into the third millen-nium guided by the pastoral plan presented to us by Pope John Paul. Whatever the strength of our faith, the Holy Spirit is the Trinitarian Person most difficult for us to talk about, t9 imagine, and to relate to. Spirit, breath, wind, love, fire are words that in themselves have no face nor even a substance that can be grasped. And yet these are some of the common, traditional words applied to the One we call the Third Person of our Trinitarian God. We might, though, begin this second year of our preparations for the millennium by calling in prayer upon the Spirit by a name appropriate to the times in which we live. Review for Religious In the Nicene Creed we express our belief in the Person called the Holy Spirit, professing first that he is Lord God and then designating this Person as "the Giver of life." What a wonderful identity--Giver of life--especially in regard to a people earning a reputation as "takers of life." It seems obvious that a basic gift we seek from God in this year 1998 is a renewed reverence, respect, and appreciation for human life. Throughout this year, perhaps we all need an examination of conscience on behavior involving us as "takers of life." "Takers of life" can involve an attitude which sullies our approach to any part of God's creation--each part a gift from God. We can become so self-centered that everything--from the ecological environ-ment to the earth's resources to human life itself--is viewed in its value now for us. Takers of life know no gratitude, for life is not seen in terms of gifting but only in terms of getting, a disease of a consumer society. Let us pray that the Holy Spirit will inspire and guide our efforts to be, like God, gi,vers of life. The age-old prayer still speaks out our desire: "Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful." Review for Religious continues to have its own experience of life being given to us. New life continues to flow into our Advisory Board as some members finish their term of service, and new members join. We welcome Sister Kathryn Richards FSP, vice-provincial of the USA province of the Daughters of St. Paul and executive director of the twenty Pauline Book and Media Centers in the USA and English-speaking Canada. She is also the direc-tor of Paulinas Distribudora, the Daughters' Hispanic media dis-tribution center, and the director of the National Association of Pauline Cooperators, the lay collaborators of the Daughters of St. Paul. In addition we welcome Bishop Carlos Sevilla SJ, bishop of the diocese of Yakima, Washington. Bishop Sevilla serves as a member of the NCCB committees on Hispanic affairs and on religious life and ministry. Before his ordination as bishop, he had filled administration and formation roles in the Society of Jesus (California province). Farewells are always harder to express than welcomes. I want to express my appreciation to Father Edmundo Rodriguez SJ and to Sister Iris Ann Ledden $SND for their many contributions to the advisory board over the years of their service. We remain grateful for their continuing interest and support. David L. Fleming SJ January-Febr~,aot 1998 o o o o o o leadership SANDRA M. SCHNEIDERS Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era In addressing the issue of leadership in congregations which are increasingly influenced by the emergence of cultural postmodernism, I write not as one who is engaged in leadership or trained in the fields of organization and management, but as a theologian reflecting on the spiri-tuality of contemporary religious. But part of my prepa-ration for these reflections involved talking with a number of religious in leadership positions, asking them what were the major challenges they faced as leaders. One woman, by means of a highly symbolic vignette, epitomized what many others expressed. She said that, if one prepared an agenda for a meeting far enough ahead of time for the participants to come prepared, the first item on the agenda would be the revision of the agenda because the actual situation in the congregation would have changed so sig-nificantly that neither the items on the agenda nor their relative importance would be what they had been when the agenda was formulated. In other words, the challenges about which leaders talked were not so much specific problems but pandemic unpredictability and uncontrol-lability. While leaders face particular challenges because of Sandra M. Schneiders IHM presented this paper, here slightly revised, to the Leadership Conference of Woxnen Religious on 23 August 1997 in Rochester, New York. She is professor of New Testament Studies and Christian Spirituality at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where her address is JSTB; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709. Review for Religious their public role and more global responsibilities, the situation which makes leadership so difficult today is the same one all of us in religious life face, namely, the context of chaos within which we are trying to live religious life coherently and minister effectively. It is this peculiarly contemporary experience and its significance for spirituality that requires analysis and engagement. Whether or not we articulate it explicitly, we are always living, thinking, working within and out of some implicit worldview which defines both the problems and the potentialities of our historical situation.~ Until we come to some understanding of that world-view, we stand little chance of developing an operative spirituality. How we understand reality in general, religious life in particular, and our own congregation specifically determines what we think we are doing as religious leaders or followers. A worldview is like light or a pair of glasses. We do not notice its role in what and how we see until it flickers or gets cloudy. Furthermore, until relatively recently we were unaware of the plurality of worldviews because we thought that what we saw was simply what is, rather than what is visible through a particular set of lenses which not everyone in the world is wearing. Until the mid-sixties Catholics in general and religious in particular lived within a peculiarly schizophrenic worldview whose intrinsic con-tradictions seldom came clearly into view. Within the institution and culture of the cht~rch, we lived out of a medieval worldview in which society was organized according to an ontologically based, and therefore unchangeable, hierarchy of status and roles; in which all reality could and must be explained in the categories of an Aristotelian/Thomistic philosophy and the-ology; and in which the next world, and therefore religion, held a clear priority over the present world and its concerns. However, outside the church arena we lived out of a modern worldview in which democratic capitalism constructed an economically com-petitive society within a deceptive rhetoric of personal equality. The explanation of reality in this modern world was supplied by the confluence of the dualistic philosophy of Descartes, the mechanistic physics of Newton, the deterministic biology of Darwin, and the materia.listic hydraulics of Freudian psychology. The practical priority of this world over the afterlife was expressed in the banishing of religious concerns from public life to the pri-vate realm of family and church. Although these two worldviews, medieval and modern, were Januat3,-Februat~y 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality largely incompatible, what they had in common may be more sig-nificant for our present considerations than how they differed. Both of these worldviews presented chaos as the ultimate enemy and order as the ultimate good. It is hardly surprising, then, that we are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpre-dictability and uncontrollability of so much of our experience today. And, the more people, property, and projects we are respon-sible for, the more threatening and even paralyzing widespread chaos in our domain of responsibility is likely to be. However, as cultural critics are increasingly convinced, the modern worldview itself is rapidly giving way to what is being called postmodernirm, a worldview that is still largely inchoate and unarticulated, but which is actually conditioning our experience more deeply and extensively than we can yet appreciate.2 Characteristic of this emerging worldview is what is being called the "new science" or quantum physics,3 which is not only calling into question the adequacy of Newtonian science to explain the natural or physical world, but implying the necessity for a new, cosmologically based philosophy that sees much deeper connec-tions between matter and spirit, between humans and the rest of reality, between this world and whatever transcends it.4 Implied in the collapse of the classical dualisms is ~i revisioning of chaos and order which may open up some possibilities for reinterpreting our present experience within religious life. Although I have been reading voraciously in the new science for a while, I do not claim to understand, much less be able to explain, quantum physics. What I want to do, however, is to use a few of its basic categories, namely, autopoietic structures, fields, and strange attractors, as metaphors for thinking about contem-porary experience in religious congregations. After exploring these categories from the new science in relation to religious life, I will try to make'some suggestions that are theologically sound, spir-itually vital, and culturally plausible about our current experience of religious life and leadership. Autopoietic Structures Margaret Wheatley, in her wonderfully provocative book Leadership and the New Science, brings together new ideas from biology, chemistry, and quantum physics which are analogous in suggesting that order and chaos are not contradictories, but that Review for Religious order emerges from chaos as from its matrix,s Furthermore, con-trol is not synonymous with order nor does it produce stability. Rather, control causes a deadly immobility or stasis which ulti-mately dooms the structure to disintegration. This phenomenon of the constructive relationship between chaos and order is characteristic of living organisms. Erich Jantsch, whom Wheatley cites, describes autopoiesis as "the characteristic of liv-ing systems [by which they] continu-ously renew themselves and., regulate this process in such a way that the integrity of their structure is main-tained.'' 6 In other words, living things maintain their integrity and identity not by eliminating change, but by continu-ous, dynamic interaction with their environment. It is equilibrium, not change, that is fatal! However, the history of religious life in the United States from the 19th century until Vatican II was character-ized by steadily increasing equilibrium and control and steadily decreasing interaction with the environment.7 After the chaotic pioneering days--when our founders and foundresses braved the rigors of frontier life using everything that came to hand, secular and profane included, to survive personally and institutionally-- American religious life settled into a rigidly defined and tightly controlled pattern within an increasingly battened-down eccle-siastical institution. Interchange with the environment was ever more stringently controlled and, to the extent possible, elimi-nated. We understood our congregations as Newtonian machine-like systems composed of virtually identical parts, operating according to established laws of motion codified in Rules and. customs books and functioning best when no part acted in orig-inal, that is, "singular" ways. Leaders functioned somewhat like factory managers maintaining strict control (erroneously seen as order) for the sake of spiritual and ministerial efficiency. Newtonian physics, which supplied this machine model for all systems, also gave us the laws of thermodynamics which gov-ern such systems. The second law of thermodynamics tells us that, when a system reaches equilibrium, entropy or disintegration We are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpredictability and uncontrollability of so mucl of our experience today. Janllary-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality sets in. We moderns learned that this law of increasing entropy or the inevitable wearing down of systems was also characteristic of living things (which we understood as basically very complicated machines) and certainly true of organizations such as religious congregations.8 What the new science is telling us is that social organizations are not entropic like machines, but more like living organisms, which are autopoietic, that is, self-renewing. The basis of autopoiesis or self-re-creation is the openness of organisms to their environment. As Wheatley says, Each structure has a unique identity, a clear boundary, yet it is merged with its environment . What we observe. ¯ in all living entities, are boundaries that both preserve us from and connect us to the infinite complexity of the out-side world. Autopoiesis, then, points to a different universe. Not the fragile, fragmented world we attempt to hold together, but a universe rich in processes that support growth and coherence, individuality and community.9 When we look at religious congregations of the 1950s, we see relatively hermetically sealed organizations operating accord-ing to the quantitative laws of mechanics. Numbers, material resources, institutional agencies of influence, and hierarchical control of all operations were the sources of efficiency. The cat-aclysm of Vatican II and its immediate predecessors in religious life such as the Sister Formation Movement suddenly opened these closed systems to their environment. New information of all kinds flooded the system. Sisters studied new disciplines in secu-lar as well as religious universities and interacted with a variety of people they formerly would never have encountered in any mean-ingful way. The mass media and the uncensored contents of libraries burst through the boundaries of the closed system. And then Vatican II called on congregations to reevaluate those old-world traditions which had so effectively kept religious out of the mainstream of American culture. Ministries changed dramatically and, with them, living situations. Contacts with other religious and with the laity, stringently rationed in previous times, broad-ened and deepened. In short, religious congregations suddenly drew deep breaths of fresh air and discovered that they were not ecclesiastical robots but sociospiritual organisms, living systems in vital interaction with their environment. Increasingly congregations, and their relatively uniform mem-bers, began to exhibit the characteristics of autopoietic structures. Review for Religious Perhaps the most unsettling characteristic is that a healthy liv-ing system is in a continuous state of disequilibrium. New infor-mation, constantly flowing into the system from the environment, challenges it to respond, to change, and to develop without loss of integrity or identity. There is no settling down, no way to call off the bombardment of the new and just be. There are no per-manently right answers, no one correct way to do things, no abso-lute authority. The organism is always off balance. Local chaos is the normal condition out of which global order is continuously being both threatened and resourced. Another characteristic of autopoietic structures, precisely because they are not in balance but precariously poised in the turbulence of a constantly changing ambiance, is that very small influences can have very significant effects on the system. In mechan-ical entities, significant change is usually proportionate to the mass of the influencing agents. Large groups, sizable funds, long-range plans are necessary to alter the status quo. But in a living system a small agent, for example, a virus, can have tremendous impact because it can galvanize the whole organism into response.'° The effect of one book like The Nun in the Modern World, or one speaker like Theresa Kane, is out of all proportion to the mass of the cause. One person generating negative energy can immobilize a whole assembly while one visionary chapter pro-posal can propel the whole congregation into self-renewal. A third feature of living systems is that they are programmed toward life. In this respect they are the very antithesis of the machine. Once entropy has set in, the machine inevitably and irreversibly winds down toward disintegration.11 But, even when very diminished, very endangered, the living system is mobilized toward self-renewal, toward regeneration. I think the merging of some small communities and the combining of facilities among others are examples of this salmonqike burst of upstream energy characteristic of open systems. Fourth, self-organizing systems'are bundles of competencies, "portfolios of skills," rather than collections of optimally func-tioning units,lz This feature has been ve.ry prominent in post-conciliar congregations. V~rhen individual religious or congregations decide that a particular institution or form of ministry no longer responds to the environment and they reconfigure competencies to meet new needs, it seems to me that they are manifesting an organic self-understanding, not, as some seem to think, a des- January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality perate need to' find something useful to do until the corporate lights go out. Fifth, as Wheatley says, self-r~newing systems are "structures that seem capable of maintaining an identity while changing form. They exhibit "global stability" over time even as their subsystems undergo enormous, seemingly chaotic, change. I was struck by this feature of living systems when I first saw the Great Barrier Reef, the largest organism on earth. This enormous living sys-tem has a form that makes it so distinct from its oceanic envi-ronment that it is even recognizable from the moon, and yet every cell of its vast expanse is undergoing incessant change. Most reli-gious can remember the stupendous resistance to even minor, external changes in religious congregations on the eve of Vatican II. We could hardly conceive of a maintenance of identity through incessant change, and any attempt to engage the environment seemed like a sellout to secularity. But autopoietic structures main-tain their identity precisely by changing in response to environ-mental influence. Obviously not all living systems survive, much less thrive. What determines whether an organism will successfully negotiate what Wheatley calls the "bifurcation point" where the choice between death and transformation occurs? ~4 Wheatley maintains that the deciding factor is what she calls the principle of "self-ref-erence." Healthy organisms do not change randomly or in any and all directions. Rather, they change in ways that are both respon-sive to the environment arid consistent with their own already established identity. A firmly established identity makes the organ-ism both responsive and resilient, both dialogical and autonomous. Whereas a static system constructs external boundaries, fences designed to keep out the influence of the environment and hold the assemblage of units together, the healthy organism develops organic boundaries which make it increasingly autonomous in relation to external pressures even as it remains deeply involved in the ongoing process of iriterchange. Unlike a fence which sim-ply walls out the "other," the organic surface of the Great Barrier Reef is both a resource for relationship with the environment and a self-defining boundary. "Self-reference is what facilitates orderly change in turbulent environments.''~5 This raises directly the question of identity. If religious life itself, religious congregations, and individual religious are open, autopoietic systems whose incessant interaction with the envi- Review for Religious ronment is governed by the principle of self-reference, that is, fidelity to core identity in the midst of continual disequilibrium, what establishes that identity? How is it recognized and main-tained? Fields To begin to get some purchase on this issue, I want to intro-duce a second metaphor from the new science, the familiar but mysterious category of "field." Religious life has always involved the creation by some Christians, "religious virtuosi" in the ter-minology of sociologist Patricia Wittberg,'6 of an alternative "world" within which to live their faith, whether that was a sociologi-cal, geographical, or institutional reality construction.~7 The expres-sion so often used for entering reli-gious life, namely, "leaving the world," was a negative articulation of the positive act of choosing an alternative arena for one's life. Today, speaking of entering reli-gious life as "leaving the world" is so probleinatic as to be counterpro-ductive. Nevertheless, there is something about religious life which distinguishes it from other forms of life. It has an identity. Like the Great Barrier Reef, it stands out from its cultural and ecclesiastical environment even while being involved in continu-ous interchange with it. Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life than the quasi-geo-graphical one of alternative world is the category of "fields." Science has made us aware that reality is composed not pri-marily of substances but of space. Space, however, is not empty. Rather, "space everywhere is now thought to be filled with fields, invisible, non-material structures that are the basic substance of the universe."ls Fields are invisible geometries structuring space, invisible media of connection bringing matter an&or energy into form. We cannot see fields any more than we can see space, but we can observe the effects of fields on that which comes within their influence. We have all seen this mysterious phenomenon in operation when iron filings come within the field of magnetic Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life is the category of "fields." January-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality influence and arrange themselves in certain patterns. Wheatley hypothesizes that personal and corporate space is also filled with fields, both positive and negative, and that, when the personal fields of the people in an organization intersect with the corpo-rate fields of the organization itself, certain predictable behav-iors are manifest. I find this metaphor very descriptive of a frequently experi-enced phenomenon, namely, that the same people behave very differently in situations which do not, exteriorly, differ notice-ably. Something "in the air" (or, perhaps more accurately, "in the space") affects them, for good or ill, and often everyone in the situation is similarly affected. We sometimes call it morale, or good or bad energy, or social climate. Sometimes we even speak of being "in good or bad space." We also know that an individual who is personally "in bad space" either can be pulled out of it by entering positive corporate space or can cause positive space to curdle. Social space, in our experience, seems to be really invisi-bly structured. Perhaps this metaphor of fields could help illuminate the issues of corporate and personal identity that religious have strug-gled with for years under the rubrics of "charism" and "vocation" and their intersection in the mysterious corporate identity prin-ciple called the "spirit of the congregation." Probably the only thing we have agreed on in regard to charism is that it is a mys-terious something that generates a certain recognizable congre-gational identity. Some have tried to equate it with the congregation's traditional ministry, or to identify it as a grace given to the foundress which was somehow passed on to later members, or to find it embodied in a characteristic spirituality. None of these explanations has proved very satisfactory, and all fail in relation to one or another congregation. Wheatley suggests that social fields are generated as people converse, share their visions and hopes, work out their problems, develop modes of interacting, participate in common projects, elaborate symbols and myths to articulate their shared identity and experience?9 In other words, groups create or generate fields. When coherent fields are generated in corporate space, people are drawn together; they begin to act in corporate ways. Eventually the group ethos can be recognized in the members. This sounds very much like what we mean by charism, an invis-ible structuring of corpor.ate space which manifests itself in the Review for Religious indefinable "something common" that is visible in the attitudes and behaviors of all the members. Furthermore, fields, once gen-erated, can outlast the individuals or groups that generated them. Perhaps what comes down through history from our foundations is not some work, set of rules, or uniform spirituality to which new members must conform, but a structured shared space that continues to give common form to ever new energy coming into the congregation in new members. When a new individual comes into this space, her own per-sonal fields intersect with the corporate fields of the congregation and the person is either drawn into and ener-gized by this cgrporate space or not. If vocation were understood as a certain constellation of overlapping fields in an individual personality's inner space, structuring that person's energy and behavior, her entering a congregation would involve the intersection of her personal vocational field with the fields of the particular congregation, especially its charism. Vocational discernment could be understood, then, as try-ing to discover if her personal fields and the congregation's corporate fields are mutually compatible and enriching or not. When the fields that structure the inner space of an individual (that is, her own voca-tion or life call) intersect creatively and har-moniously with the fields that structure the corporate space of a congregation (that is, its charism and other characteristic fea-tures), we often say that the person has "the spirit of the congre-gation." When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Perhaps what we mean by the spirit of the congregation is the global identity of the group as it manifests itself within the complex of fields that invisibly but really structures the personal into the cor-porate. 2° To use this field metaphor for understanding charism, voca-tion, and the spirit of the congregation does not reduce these realities to the purely natural any more than accounting for the universe by the theory of the "big bang" or for human emergence by evolution denies the divine role in creation. The metaphor simply offers us a more organic way of understanding the human When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality experience of stable and shared congregational identity in the midst of incessant change. It also provides a possible answer to the question about self-reference as the key to coherence for an open, autopoietic sys-tem experiencing continuous life-giving disequilibrium. In a sense, nothing observable in the congregation remains the same--type of ministry, horarium and content of spiritual exercises, commu-nity lifestyle, dress codes, financial practices, patterns ~of inter-acting-- but the field, the spirit of the congregation, in which all the change takes place can account for the ever new order which arises out of the seemingly chaotic pluralism and incessant vari-ation that characterize the community's day-to-day life over time. The Strange Attractor A third possibly illuminating metaphor, drawn from the new science, is that of the "strange attractor," a simple example of which many of us have seen as the computer screen saver of inces-santly changing lines and curves which maintain a moving form that is never repeated. Wheatley says this about the "strange attractor": Chaos theory has given us images of "strange attractors"-- computer pictures of swirling motion that trace the evolu-tion of a system. A system is defined as chaotic when it becomes impossible to know where it will be next. There is no predictability; the system never is in the same place twice. But as chaos theory shows, if we look at such a sys-tem long enough and with the perspective of time, it always demonstrates its inherent orderliness. The most chaotic of systems never goes beyond certain boundaries; it stays con-tained within a shape that we can recognize as the system's strange attractor . '~ This description seems very pertinent to the history of religious life, not to mention that of individual congregations. Religious life has undergone so much movement, so much deep-level change, that it is indeed impossible to know where it will be next. It is never in the same place twice. At times it seems to be in total disarray. And yet, over its nearly two-thousand-year history, it demonstrates a moving pattern which makes it recognizable, distinguishable against the background field of ecclesial life. What, we may ask, is the strange attractor of religious life? A strange attractor is a basin for the system's activity that Review for Religious pulls all activity within the system into a form or shape but with-out immobilizing the system or reducing its inner variety to pre-dictability. The strange attractor itself is not visible. It manifests itself by its power to allow a few simple "instructions," for exam-ple, equations, to repeat and intersect as they feed back upon themselves in an infinite variety of ways so that these iterations create analogous forms at finer and finer levels. These forms are what we call fractals, repetitions at various levels of scale that manifest the whole in each part. Our most homely example is probably a head of broccoli in which each flowerette, down to the tiniest, repeats the pattern of the whole head. But we can see it also in the computer image of lines and curves, or in the clouds, or in a branch of fern. VVheatley was moved to ask the question about the strange attractor when she observed that, in terminally dysfunctional sys-tems verging on collapse, where almost everyone had psycholog-ically abandoned ship and survival had become the only agenda, there were some individuals within the dysfunctional system who continued to be personally centered, creative, and productive. Amid corporate disintegration, personal order. She also observed--in healthy organizations which allowed maximum autonomy, even seeming chaos, at the local level--that the seem-ingly chaotic variety at the local level did not lead to disintegra-tion, but to a kind of global order and stability. Out of local chaos, global order. Somehow the creative individuals in the disinte-grating systems and the healthy organizations permitting high levels of local autonomy were pulled into coherence as if a strange attractor were at work. Her highly suggestive conclusion is that the strange attractor in both cases is meaning generated by a "frame of reference," that is, a coherent vision and pattern of val-ues, which gives direction to all the seemingly disparate activity. Meaning, vision, values, however, are formal categories. What vision, what values, what meaning might be the strange attractor of religious life that accounts for its self-identity and coherence, its fractal wholeness and beauty, through nearly two millennia of chaotic movement in an often dysfunctional church?22 More importantly, is the strange attractor still at work, still generating a recognizable lifeform today in what might be one of the most chaotic periods of development in the history of religious life? Are there a few "equations" that have iterated throughout these two millennia in thousands of different fractal realizations man- January-February 1998 Schneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality ifesting the strange attractor that keeps this lifeform coherent and true to itself?. From the time of the lst-century virgins until it was pro-claimed anew by Vatican II, the basic principle, the fundamental "equation," has been that religious life is essentially gospel life. The pattern of the life has been the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, perhaps the ultimate instance of order out of chaos, that is, life out of death. Of course, religious life shares this deter-mining equation with all Christian life. But religious life has also always been distinguished from lay Christian life by the particu-lar way religious have entered into the paschal mystery of Christ, by the specifically religious "equation," namely, by the life of con-secrated celibacy lived in community and mission. The strange attractor of religious life, then, may be a partic-ular kind of gospel-based relationship with Jesus Christ, expressed in freely chosen lifelong celibacy, lived in community and mis-sion, that has generated a lifeform which is distinct and recog-nizable despite enormous variety. It has reinvented itself endlessly, but from a distance and over time we can note the repeated pat-terns, its fractal wholeness. The effect of the strange attractor is a global stability and self-identity through incessant change, a particular and recognizable order out of chaos. Christian Spirituality and Congregational Leadership If these metaphors .drawn from the new science--that is, the congregation as an open and autopoietic system invisibly structured by the corporate fields that manifest in the spirit of the congre-gation within the shaping influence of the strange attractor of celi-bate living of the Gospel in community and mission--are illuminating of our current experience of religious life in our par-ticular congregations, we can ask what light they throw on the problematic of leadership. Does such a postmodern model of reli-gious life based on metaphors drawn from the new science suggest anything helpful in understanding what leadership in such sys-tems might mean today? Obviously, the image of the leader as manager whose task is to minimize disequilibrium by control of all personnel, policy, and practice is obsolete. But probably the image of the leader as the lone visionary who boldly imagines and projects goals to gal-vanize the membership toward the future is also obsolete. This is Review for Religious not because care of the community and corporate vision are not as important today as they have always been, but because we increasingly realize that they are the shared responsibility of the entire congregation.23 What is characteristic of the context of leadership today is that the kinds of systems over which leaders preside are situations which are not only uncontrollable in fact, but chaotic in principle. Chaos is the system's "steady state." Whatever leaders do today, it cannot be imagined realistically as merely the direction of reliable resources toward clearly perceived objec-tives. It has to have something to do with the creative potential of chaos itself. Even while managing the modern social systems that our congregations, at one level, certainly are, leaders are chal-lenged to engage the deep dynamics of meaning in the increasingly postmodern systems that we are becoming. It seems to me that religious life today is at the bifurcation point between death and transformation, between entropy and self-renewal, and therefore that the responsibility of leaders in relation to the deep dynamics of meaning has to do with the prin-ciple of self-reference which Wheatley identifies as the most impor-tant single determinant of self-renewal in autopoietic structures.24 The science of autopoietic systems suggests that, if the congre-gation (or religious life as a lifeform) is true to itself, in touch with and living out of its own identity, it will continue to renew itself even in the face of the massive material and ecclesiastical challenges of this historical period. If it is the case that the iden-tity of religious life lies in the celibate living of the gospel in com-munity and mission within the spirit of the particular congregation, we are at the heart of the issue. And the issue is faith. In what follows I am relying heavily on a remarkable 1995 study by a British theologian, Denys Turner, of the apophatic ele-ment in the Christian mystical tradition.2s In this book Turner is dealing with what I suspect is the most challenging issue for all of us in religious life today, but perhaps especially for those charged with the care of the community as a whole, namely, the mean-ing, reality, and integrity of Christian faith today. Religious life is fundamentally a faith reality, and the faith in question is not simply a generalized conviction that there is more to reality than meets the eye. Christian faith is both an unthe-matized openness to the ineffable Divine Mystery that has no name and a thematized participation in a particular religious tra- t--!-9- January-Februa~3~ 1998 Scisneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality 20 dition which believes that this Holy Mystery is both revealed and encountered in Jesus of Nazareth risen from the dead whose life is communicated to us in and through the gift of his Holy Spirit within the community called church. A major question today for Christians, including religious, and especially women, is whether these two aspects of faith, unthematized openness to Divine Mystery (which is not necessarily Christian) and thematic adher-ence to a particular religious tradition (namely, Christianity), are or need necessarily be related and, if they are related, how that can be personally experienced and authentically lived. Many postmodern Christians are caught in an experiential disjunction between their God-experience on the one hand and, on the other, their participation in the particular faith tradition, that is, the religion, within which they were initiated into that God-experience and which still claims to mediate it. In other words, there is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. This may be partially due to the sudden (at least historically speaking) reversal of our evaluation of the role of experience in spirituality that coincided with the upheavals in religion of the conciliar era. Let me trace this development in broad strokes. For several centuries Christians were educated to discount feeling in the practice of religion in favor of a kind of blind faith and naked exercise of will. It was not the person who believed but the intellect; not the person who loved but the will. The body with its emotions was that which had to be overcome and sub-jected in order for the soul to seek God. This approach to the spiritual life, which effectively reduced spirituality to religious practice, was seriously challenged by at least three developments in the middle of this century. First, for all kinds of reasons that were psychological and cul-tural as well as theological, the radical wholeness of the human person began to resurface, and many believers began to reclaim the importance, perhaps even priority, of feeling in religious prac-tice. Retreat directors learned to ask people how they felt, not what they thought. Retreatants learned to be attentive to subjec-tive states of consolation .and desolation. Discernment began to take into account the person's felt response to alternative possi-bilities. Rather than considering felt religious experience unreli-able or even suspect, people began to consider it the touchstone, even the essence, of genuine spirituality. Desiring such experi- Review for Religious ence, seeking it, trusting it, living from it was no longer an aber-ration but the norm. Second, the feminist movement took hold among Catholic women, and its analysis of patriarchy enabled women to name and claim their experience of oppression in the church and to trace ecclesiastical sexism to its theological roots in Scripture and tradition. Women's experience of the Catholic religious tradition became laced with negative feeling just as they were learning that feeling was not irrelevant, but a valid and important indicator of the real. Many concluded that, if Catholic religion feels deeply alienating, Catholic spirituality may be highly suspect. Third, Catholics, for the first time, came into meaningful appreciative contact with non-Christian religious traditions where they encountered spiritualities that counteracted some of the very aspects of Christianity that were becoming increasingly problematic. The nature-affirming rituals of native American spirituality countered the overcerebral otherworldliness of traditional Catholic wor-ship. The nondualistic, nondogmatic meditation practices of Eastern mystical traditions offered an attractive alternative to the rationalistic and mechanical prayer practices of ordinary Catholic piety. Thus, at the very time that experience was becoming the touchstone of truth in the sphere of religion, both negative and positive experiences in the realm of spirituality converged to undermine adherence to the Roman Catholic Christian tradition. This has led some, perhaps many, religious to seriously question whether Catholic Christianity offers an adequate, much less a preferable, access to Holy Mystery or compelling motivation for ministry. For many the God of Christianity seems too small, too violent, and too male; the focus on Jesus Christ seems narrow and exclusive; the resurrection seems mythological if not incred-ible and, in any case, irrelevant to a world in anguish; the insti-tutional church seems hopelessly medieval, sexist, and clerical; liturgy is alienating; morality is out of touch with reality; and church ministry is a continual battle with male hostility and power There is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. Januao~-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality dynamics. Spirituality centered in personal experience was increas-ingly engrossing while religion, especially the Catholic religion, was increasingly alienating. After a certain amount of experimentation, many religious have settled into a kind of personal, often highly eclectic, spiri-tuality within the context of a nominal Christianity whose central tenets and practices are of little practical import in their lives. Their God may no longer be the God of Jesus Christ, but a non-personal, benevolent cosmic energy holding reality together in some mysterious way. Jesus may have been consigned to history as one of many prophetic figures whose memory remains moti-vating although they themselves are long dead. The Bible may no longer be, for them, revelatory or normative Scripture, but one religious classic among others. Christian sacraments may be quarries of symbolic elements which can be combined with anal-ogous elements from other traditions in the formulation of mean-ingful rituals. Prayer may be any practice from listening to music, to Zen sitting or Tai Chi, to hiking or massage which is calming and focusing and helps one keep a balance in a crazy world. In religious communities the effect of these developments in spirituality is profoundly disintegrative. It can no longer be taken for granted that the members share the same faith, a serious sit-uation for a lifeform which is based not only on faith but specif-ically on Christian faith. Members for whom Christian faith remains normative may hesitate to speak in explicitly Christian terms lest they be branded reactionary or dismissed as out of. touch with contemporary reality, while post-Christian or selec-tively Christian members may hesitate to voice their spirituality lest they shock their hearers or find themselves branded as heretics. Christian liturgical celebration at congregational events is sometimes so divisive as to be impossible. Nevertheless, wherever they are on the Christian map, reli-gious women continue to be resolutely religious, seeking God in disciplined spiritual practice, making retreats, engaging seriously in spiritual direction, reading widely and deeply in theology and spirituality, attending workshops and renewal programs. Those religious who have survived the postconciliar exodus and are still committed to both community and ministry are not indifferent to the God quest that brought them to religious life in the first place. This is the point at which the disjuncture between spirituality which is a matter of passionate concern and religion which is a Review for Religious locus of struggle and alienation is apparent; and, in my opinion, this may be the bifurcation point at which the choice between death and transformation is going to be made. We cannot afford to ignore this situation or pretend it does not really matter as long as people are sincere and committed. What is in jeopardy is not control but self-reference, the con-gregation's response to its strange attrac-tor, that is, to religious life itself as a faith reality. It seems to me that what many reli-gious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to find God in a kind of personal mystical quest that bypasses what are experienced as the superficiali-ties and hypocrisies, and even the vio-lence, of the official structures of institutional Catholic Christianity. In par-ticular, many are trying to find in the Christian mystical tradi-tion itself guidance for developing an apophatic or nonthematic contemplative spirituality that is experientially satisfying and moti-vating, but that bypasses the concreteness of the Christian cat-aphatic tradition with its specifically religious beliefs, liturgy, and practice. In short, it is an attempt to develop a spirituality with-out religion. Denys Turner wrote his treatise on the Christian mystical tradition, The Darkness of God, as a challenge to this contemporary development, which he calls spiritual "experientialism" and which he sees as widespread among Christians in general. Turner regards this experientialism as a kind of modernist positivism in the arena of spirituality. In other words, felt religious experience has become the "hard data" of authentic spirituality analogous to the observ-able results of laboratory experiments in modern science or the quantifiable data of sociological surveys. Personal experience has become the nonnegotiable criterion of validity in the arena of faith.26 The practice of contemplation, yielding direct experience of either the delightful presence or the painful absence of Holy Mystery, has become for many the sufficient, if mir~imal, structure, content, and dynamics of their spirituality, augmented perhaps by a symbolic and ritual eclecticism that draws from various reli-gious and nonreligious traditions. This experience of Holy Mystery is believed to be "apophatic," that is, unencumbered by What many religious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to develop a spirituality without religion. January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality specific religious doctrines, images, symbols, liturgical traditions, and so on. Against this misguided turn to experience Turner maintains, with impressive support from the data of the tradition, that there is no such thing as "apophatic experience." This is a contradiction in terms. The experience of the absence of God is just as much an experience, that is, just as cataphatic, as is the experience of God's presence even though it might be less enjoyable. It is the quest for mystical experience itself, and especially reliance upon it as the touchstone of faith, which is the problem, Turner maintains. Furthermore, following Bernard McGinn, Turner points out that no one who is serious about the God quest, especially not the mys-tics (at least not until very recent times), attempts to "practice mys-ticism." People practice Christianity or Buddhism or Judaism.27 The mystical is a moment in the practice of these traditions, but there is no freestanding mysticism or pure apophatic practice. The development of this kind of experience-oriented, reli-giously decontextualized spirituality has been encouraged in recent years by a tendency in popular books on spirituality to talk of an apophatic and a cataphatic "way" as if there were two types of spirituality, one of which, the cataphatic, proceeds through the use of the theological symbols, images, rituals, and practices of a religious tradition and one of which, the apophatic, makes no use of these "externals" and reaches directly to the Divine Mystery that transcends all human institutions.28 Furthermore, there has been a tendency to suggest that these "ways" are a matter of per-sonal choice and so one might decide to bypass the cataphatic and plunge into the darkness of the apophatic way, where God would be met in pure spiritual nakedness. There has been much talk of foolproof methods by which to achieve mystical empti-ness and union, often without or before any serious ascetical train-ing, theological formation, or liturgical involvement. What Turner exposes is the basic fallacy of this whole "expe-rientialist" turn in spirituality. All spirituality, insofar as it can be practiced or pursued, is cataphatic, and all religious experience is by definition cataphatic. The apophatic is not a "way" or a "prac-tice," much less a kind of "experience." It is a moment of negativity, of nonexperience, at the heart of genuine, ordinary religious faith and practice. This moment is, by definition, not something one can experience at all. The apophatic or mystical is precisely the neg-ativity, the total darkness which cannot itself be seen or felt. It is Review for Religious the absence of experience, the "hole" at the heart of religious expe-rience, the place of the Holy Mystery Which is utterly beyond our experiencing, attainment, knowing, or naming. Mysticism is not negative (or positive) religious experience, says Turner, but the negativity of all religious experience.2Vlf I can experience it at all, it is not God in Godself that I am experiencing. If Turner is right, this attempt to bypass religious practice of the Christian tradition in search of some direct experience of the Holy Mystery is wrongheaded and futile, and it can end only in self-delusion of the kind pilloried by the author of The Cloud of Unknowing.3°Insofar as the apophatic moment occurs, it is abso-lutely nonexperienceable and hidden. And it occurs only within the cataphatic context of resolutely faithful Christian practice, which may at times overflow in the exaltation of spiritual peak experiences or generate the psychologically devastating suffering of the "dark night" described by John of the Cross. But, as all the mystics have maintained, such graces of light or darkness are neither the content nor the criterion of genuine spirituality. As Turner says, the deformations of the "experientialist" derive . . . from the error of understanding that which is a "moment" of reserve, of denial and unknowing within worship, prayer and sacrament as if it were a rival practice which displaces that Christian ordinariness. "Experientialism" in its most extreme forms is therefore the displacement of a sense of the negativity of all religious experience with the pursuit of some goal of achieving negative experiences.3~ In other words, a purely mystical spirituality is not a viable alternative to full participation in the religious tradition. The mystical, insofar as it is spiritually significant and transformative (as opposed to momentary experiences of oceanic bliss which may be caused by any number of stimuli from drugs to trance) is available only within some ongoing, ordinary, everyday cataphatic practice. The alternative to being imprisoned within the rigidities of an overmaterialized tradition is not the flight into a disembodied, decontextualized, and individualistic pseudomysticism. The deeply interior life of the serious postmodern Christian requires the shaping influence of a tradition worked out over centuries by saints and scholars, mystics and martyrs, even as the tradition itself requires the critical challenge of its postmodern adherents, whose new insights into reality must refine the tradition of its historical dross. 25 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadersbip and Spirituality Let us return now to the framework of meaning that has sup-plied us with the important principle of self-reference. If the focus of self-reference of religious congregations and their members is the gospel-based celibate living of the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ in community and mission within the spirit of the partic-ular congregation, and if the self-renewal and continued flour-ishing of religious life and the particular congregation depend on this self-reference, then nothing is more important than the authenticity of the spirituality of religious. Obviously, people can form and live community and altruis-tically serve others without being either Christian or Catholic. And a religious congregation can certainly transform itself into such a community of life and service, leaving behind its specifically Catholic identity and affirming whatever religious affiliation, or lack thereof, its individual members espouse. That is, it can cease to be a religious congregation and continue as an intentional com-munity with or without religious roots?2 My concern is with con-gregations which have not, or not yet, made that choice, but are struggling to maintain their Catholic Christian identity in a highly dysfunctional ecclesiastical context. For such communities the quiet sidelining of Christian identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation. And perhaps the most impor-tant task of leadership in such congregations is helping the congregation to negotiate the moment of bifurcation between congregational death through the abandonment of that identity and congregational transformation through the critical reappro-priation of its Christian identity. There can be no question, in a postmodern context, of deal-ing with this issue by fiat. The present state of spirituality in many religious congregations is highly chaotic, and attempting to abol-ish chaos by control is, as we have seen, the kiss of death. Hope lies not in the exercise of coercive power, but in the realization that the current disequilibrium is potentially far more creative than the kind of static uniformity that prevailed in the spiritual-ity of most preconciliar communities. But how do leaders facilitate the emergence of new spiritual order from religious chaos? The analogies from the new science suggest several possible leads. First, a climate has to be created in which divergent theological views and spiritual practices can rise to visibility and articulation and be seriously and respectfully Review for Religious engaged. The unspoken agreement not to talk about anything that could cause dissension and not to use any ritual with which someone might be uncomfortable--and to substitute therapeutic methods and organizational techniques for theological engage-ment with controversies in the area of faith--is analogous to main-taining tight managerial control in a dysfunctional organization. The upheaval in spirituality at the individual and local level needs to be articulated, recognized, and owned. Within it lies the poten-tial, not for a restoration of preconciliar uniformity of doctrine and practice, but for a self-renewing reclaiming of the tradition in very new, perhaps even startlingly new, forms. Any Christian!ty that can be relevant and life-giving in a postmodern context is simply not going to look like, or be like, the Catholicism of the Middle Ages or even of the 1950s. Second, the basic framework of meaning needs to be reartic-ulated, but in ways that take seriously the problems which have led to its practical collapse. This basic framework is the gospel in all its depth and breadth, and that means the theological and litur-gical, moral and socially transformative riches of the Christian tradition in dialogue with the postmodern culture emerging in our time. The Christian tradition that has become alienating for so many is not the gospel itself, but the moribund formulations of post-Tridentine Vatican institutionalism. The extraordinary response of so many, especially women religious, to the work of theologians like Elizabeth Johnson and Catherine LaCugna, bib-lical scholars like Carolyn Osiek and Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza, liturgists like Mary Catherine Hilkert, ecumenists like Rosemary Radford Ruether, moral theologians like Lisa Sowle Cahill, and scholars of spirituality like Constance FitzGerald and Joann Wolski Conn--along with the rediscovery of the Christian mys-tics themselves--suggests that the tradition has the potential to be reappropriated and renewed in feminist, ecological, and pluralis-tic patterns if the meeting between the postmodern religious and contemporary theology can be facilitated. A system converts local chaos to global order by the infusion of new information which can be appropriated within a coherent frame of reference. Access to theological resources and also deep engagement with the new science, feminist thought and practice, and ecological and social theory by all the members of a congregation would seem to be an absolute requirement for the development of an authentic post-modern Catholic Christian spirituality that would be adequate Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirit~tality for religious life in the 21st century. If religious develop such a spirituality, we can expect resistance from the official exercisers of institutional control. But, if religious fail to develop such a spir-ituality, we can expect religious congregations to disintegrate from within as their spirituality unravels and becomes a tangle of idiosyncratic and individualistic syncretisms. Third, the interaction between the whole and the parts has to be facilitated so that what is emerging in the spirituality of the members appears in a corporate spirituality that breaks the ver-bal and ritual silence at the global level and also transforms the global frame of reference itself so that it is not a religious strait-jacket but a flexible focus of self-reference. In preconciliar days. most communities had a repertoire of symbols, myths, celebra-tions, and ceremonies which integrated the spirituality of the individual members with the spirituality of the congregation. How can we experience this local-to-global articulation today? The order at the global level, which is not dogmatic uniformity but deep unity in shared faith and spirituality, can be authentic only if it emerges from the lived variety and ferment at the local level, among the individuals and groups that make up the community. In recent years some congregations have begun processes of getting religiously sensitive issues out on the table and seeking ways to bring theological resources into dialogue with personal religious experience in the context of open sharing of faith. This is very risky business. But in many cases it has resulted in unusual experiences of renewal of the spirit of the community. Perhaps, having negotiated so many of the more "external" issues of lifestyle and even ministry, many religious are eager, even if fearful, to engage the deeper issues of faith, religious identity, and spiritu-ality. Congregational leadership may be challenged today to take the initiative in helping the congregation address the fundamen-tal issue of Catholic faith and spirituality, that is, the issue of identity and self-reference. Conclusion Let me briefly summarize and conclude. What leadership means and how it is exercised depends essentially on how one understands the social system one is leading. I have tried to sug-gest that the quasi-mechanical modern model of the religious congregation is giving way to an organic postmodern model of Review for Religious community. I have explored a few features of this new model, namely, the conception of the community itself as an autopoietic or self-renewing organic structure; the category of fields as a way of un.derstanding the unifying forces of charism, vocation, and the spirit of the congregation; and the strange attractor as a way of understanding the quintessential role of the gospel lived in consecrated celibacy in community and mission as the principle of self-reference of religious life. I then tried to suggest that the role of leadership today may be neither primarily social maintenance nor ministerial goal set-ting, but the facilitation of the congregation's self-renewing pro-cess through attention to its core identity, its framework of meaning. This framework of meaning is not a uniform religiosity nor a particular type of ministry. It is Christian paschal spiritual-ity, rooted in the gospel of Jesus Christ, lived celibately in com-munity and mission, a spirituality which cannot bypass the Christian theological, liturgical, moral, and socially transforma-tive tradition within the believing community we call church. But in a postmodern context such spirituality cannot be leg-islated or enforced. Nor are leaders, in all probability, any less caught up in doubt, alienation, and theological-religious confusion than the other members of their congregations. What we ask of our leaders today is not that they supply us with the correct answers, or even that they pi6neer the road to the future, but that they mediate the creative interchange between local and global levels, helping us to own the real questions and search honestly, together, for appropriate responses, and thus facilitate the life-giving interaction between the religious congregation and the real world in which we live and minister. When Peter, that first leader of the Christian community, asked Jesus for a clear fix on church order and ministry by inquiring what role his apparent rival, the Beloved Disciple, was to have, Jesus replied, "That's not your problem. What you need to do is follow me," that is, become a beloved disciple and thereby become capable of the ministry to which you are called. Perhaps for all of us, leaders and followers, it is both that simple and that difficult. Notes ~ On this issue of the i~nportance of worldview and the character of the emerging worldview with which I am concerned in this paper, see the very provocative thesis of Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self." Human Nature and Consciousv~ess Defined by the Januao,-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990), esp. pp. 231-237. 2 For a comprehensible introduction to the notion of postmodernity in the context of Christian faith, see James B. Miller, "The Emerging Postmodern World," in Postmodern Theology: Christian Faith in a Pluralist World, ed. Frederic B. Burnham (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989), pp. 1-19, or Douglas C. Bowman, Beyond the Modern Mind: The Spiritual and Ethical Challenge of the Environmental Crisis (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1990). The SUNY Series in Constructive Postmodern Thought, edited by David Ray Griffin, and published in Albany, New York by the State University of New York Press, includes several volumes of essays repre-senting most of the preeminent writers attempting to relate Christianity and its concerns to the postmodern worldview. For a powerful presenta-tion of secular postmodernity, see Albert Borgmann, Crossing the Postmodern Divide (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992). 3 My primary resources in trying to understand this new approach to reality have been the following: Heinz Pagels, The Coswtic Code: Quantum Physics as the Language of Nature (New York: Bantam Books, 1983); David S. Toolan, "Praying in a Post-Einsteinian Universe," Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 437-470; Margaret J. Wheatley, Leadership and the New Science: Learning about Organization from an Orderly Universe (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1992); Margaret J. Wheatley and Myron Kellner-Rogers,/t Simpler Way (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1996); Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self: Human Nature and Consciousness Defined by the New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990). 4 Zohar, The Quantum Self, p. 234, speaks of the new worldview chal-lenging the modernist dualisms which split subject and object (mind and body), individual from relationships, and culture from nature. This is a slightly different focus on what I am talking about in more humanis-tic/ religious terms. 5 Specifically, Wheadey relies on the thought about living systems of Erich Jantsch, The Self-Organizing Universe (Oxford: Pergamon, 1980); the treatment of chemical reality of Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers, Order out of Chaos (New York: Bantam, 1984); the work of quantum physi-cists on strange attractors as explained by James Gleick in Chaos: Making a New Science (New York: Viking, 1987). 6 Cited in Wheatley, Leadership, p. 18. 7 Much of the following description of U.S. religious life from the 1800s until Vatican II is well illustrated in the volume, coauthored by a team of IHM sisters, Building Sisterhood: A Feminist History of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, ed. Margaret Susan Thompson (Syracuse: University Press, 1997). 8 It is interesting that sociological theory of organizations has .applied these Newtonian principles to social systems, leading theorists like Helen Rose E Ebaugh, in Women in the Vanishing Cloister: Organizational Decline in Catholic Religious Orders in the United States (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1993), to confidently predict the immi- Review for Religious nent demise of religious life, not because the spirituality of religious has died, but because the organizations seem to have lost their niche in the social, economic, and occupational machinery. If I understand Wheatley's thesis, she is convinced that the mechanistic understanding of organiza-tions that underlies much organizational and management theory is inap-propriate to the kind of entity such organizations are. I think Wheatley's thesis is applicable to religious life in general and religious congrega-tions in particular. 9Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 18-19. 10 Wheattey, Leadership, pp. 95-96, treats this feature. ~' When I hear religious wearily predicting the demise of their con-gregations as simply inevitable since decline in one or more areas seems to have set in and, in the long run, decline cannot be arrested or reversed, I am struck by the mechanistic character of their image of religious con-gregations. ,2 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 93. 13 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 90, italics mine. 14 Before reading Wheatley, who uses this very expression, "death or transformation," in relation to living organisms, I was looking at this same phenomenon in religious life in terms of the mystical tradition, the "bifurcation point" represented by the "dark night." See Sandra M. Schneiders, "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation?" Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 510-535. is Wheatley, Leadership, p. 94. 16 See Patricia Wittberg, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1996), pp. 19-31, for her very enlighten-ing treatment of the sociological category of the "religious virtuoso" as a descriptive of religious. Peter Brown, in The Body and Society: Men, Women and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), p. 58, refers to the lst- and 2nd-century virgins, the original religious, as "virtuoso practitioners of continence." 17 In the earliest period of church life, the choice of lifelong virgin-ity created an alternative to the sociological givens of society in the 1st century of the Christian era. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, the desert ascetics moved geographically out of the overacculturated church of late antiquity. In the Middle Ages cenobitic monasticism was an institutional alternative to life in the cities. The "leaving the world" motif continued in the closed lifestyles of apostolic religious congregations right up to Vatican II. 18 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 48. 19 See esp. Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 52-54. 201 think this dynamic metaphor fnight have some potential for dis-cussions of the issues of belonging and membership. For example, if every individual is a distinct constellation of overlapping and intersecting fields (family, personal friends, professional associations, ministerial involve-ments, and so forth) which structure her personal identity and which 3I Janua~y-Febt'uaty 1998 . 32 Scbneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality intersect with the fields of other members and the corporate constellation of fields of the congregation, we have to expect that ways of belonging and participating in community life are going to be very diverse and that this need not lead to disintegration. Likewise, there may be significant but not determining intersection between the field of some person and the congregational field,, leading to a considerable sense of"belonging" on the part of this person who, nev-ertheless, does not feel called to become a member in the full sense of the word. 2, Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 20-21. 22 The amount of chaos within religious life and the sometimes over-whelmingly dysfunctional character of the ecclesiastical settings in which the life survived and even thrived over the centuries is strikingly chron-icled by Jo Ann Kay McNamara in Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). 23 1 do not mean to suggest that leadership does not play a special role in maintenance and mission. In fact, I suspect leadership in these arenas is even more important today than it was in the recent past when eccle-siastical control dictated virtually all major decisions about mission and stable financial procedures and reliable resources assured maintenance. I want to suggest, however, that these functions, although facilitated by leadership, are largely handled by specialists or by congregational struc-tures that do not depend exclusively on leaders. 24 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 146: "More than any other science prin-ciple I've encountered, self-reference strikes me as the most important. ¯ . . As an operating principle, it decisively separates living organisms from machines." 2s Denys Turner, The Darkness of God: Negativity in Christian MystMsm (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995). 26 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 262. Turner says (p. 259): "Experientialism is. the 'positivism' of Christian spirituality. It abhors the experiential vacuum of the apophatic, rushing to fill it with the plenum of the psychologistic." 27 Turner, Darkness of God, pp. 260-261; he cites Bernard McGinn, The Presence of God: A History of VVestern Christian MystMsm, Vol. 1 (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. xvi. Turner does not actually agree with McGinn about the role of experience in mysticism, but he does agree with him that, until the present century, tnysticism was not isolated from religious traditions but an element within the,n. 2s Mthough there is much of value in Diarmuid O'Murchu's latest book, Quantum Theology (New York: Crossroad, 1997), I have serious hesitations about his facile dismissal of .religion as a dispensable human invention (see esp. pp. 7-12). He is right to point out the distinction between spirituality, religion, and theology, but I doubt that the direct leap from spirituality to theology is possible because, while the categories of theology can be enriched by science, I doubt that they can be supplied Review for Religious without recourse to sacred texts and liturgical ritual. It is indeed part of the function of theology to purify religion of its excesses; but it is also part of the function of religious tradition to criticize theology. 29 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3o See the caustic description in chaps. 52-53 of The Cloud of Unknowing (The Classics of \Vestern Spirituality), ed. James Walsh (New York/Ramsey/Toronto: Paulist Press, 1981), pp. 220-223. 3t Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3: In speaking of religious congregations, I am using the term theo-logically and not canonically. I am talking about the faith reality that constitutes religious life, not juridical requirements ofany particular period in history. Tropical Night Watch (Cap Haitien, Haiti) The current is cut, the light fails, generators die, sleep prevails. Wakened by silence, I stagger onto the gallery, stumble over stars, so many stars the sky overflows, the Milky Way spilt and star running all down the dome. Does someone, I wonder, watch with me, or do I alone gorge on the glory? Two a.m. an ungodly hour?-- with this luxury of light? this starry sight? I gape, I gape, at this godly night. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ Januasy-February 1998 DONNA J. MARKHAM Leadership for the Common Good Only a few achieve the colossal task of holding together, without being torn asunder, the clarity of their vision along-side an ability to take their place in a materialistic world. They are the modern heroes . --Irene Claremont de Castillejo Knowing VVoman: A Feminine Psychology AnY person who is called upon to lead today is also called to the heroic act of unifying and healing in the midst of a world that is increasingly fragmented by nationalism and regional separatism. Nor are religious leaders unaffected: denom-inational sectarianism and ideological divisions threaten to take a mortal toll on the community of believers. At the same time, we live in an exciting era, alive in the midst of an enormous shifting in the collective experience of our planet. Insights from world religions, the new sciences, and feminist consciousness are con-tinually shaping our responses to the suffering oppressed. Religious leaders want to unify their members in order to meet the various challenges effectively, but the personal and communal risks are great. Women religious leaders find themselves engaging in heroic action as they contend with complex and differing perspectives on Christology and spirituality and on what constitutes the core Donna J. Markham OP is CEO for Southdown, a center for Christian healing that serves clergy and religious. Her article, published in Origins 27 (I 3 November 1997), is a slightly edited version of her address to the annual assembly of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, held in Rochester, New York, in August 1997. Her address is Southdown; 1335 St. John's Sideroad East; RR #2, Aurora, Ontario; Canada L4G 3G8. Review for Relig4ous identity of religious life in this emerging global reality. Those who are entrusted for a time with the exciting task of fostering greater union and community are also expected to keep in front of our eyes the gospel-illuminated vision to which we have all committed ourselves. Irene Claremont de Castillejo rightly asserts that those who strive to accomplish such things are, indeed, mod-ern heroes. We actually have modern-day heroes--who have called us to common ground, who have invited us to envision a new way of being dwellers on earth, who have risked opening dif-ficult conversations and bringing forth serious critiques as new insights and truths are searched out. Within our midst are, I believe, unobtrusive modern heroines. The thoughts I share come from one who is clearly not a philosopher or a theologian, but rather a student of human behav-ior who has herself been stretched and challenged by a loving God. I share these thoughts as one who has experienced a call to profound conversion in the midst of the awesome responsibility of being entrusted with leading. I share these thoughts as one who, lost in deserts of confusion, has called out in fear; one who, with her sisters, has called upon a God of mystery, wisdom, and hope to show some clarity or meaning in daunting, sometimes terrifying, situations pregnant with disharmony and division. I hope to propose some specific skills for leaders to use in their efforts regarding the good we hold in common. Before doing that, however, I note two perspectives on the meaning of the com-mon good and offer a summation of our own experience of the past ten years. Perspectives on the Common Good There are two principal perspectives about how to achieve the good of society. The prevalent one, perhaps, is that the aggre-gate of individuals all pursuing their own self-interest constitutes the most good for the greatest number. This individualistic and utilitarian view--from John Locke, Adam Smith, and John Stuart Mill--emphasizes the common good as a composite of individual goods. It wants the civil authority to keep out of people's affairs except to ensure that no one tramples on another's rights. The second perspective, in the Thomistic tradition, emphasizes the common good as a social good that all must.participate in if the good of the whole is to be achieved (Hollenbach, 1989, pp. 85ff). January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Maritain elucidated this by speaking of a "personalistic commu-nitarianism" in which individuals achieve their own good more fully and readily when, in relationship with others, they work to enhance the common good. History has demonstrated, especially over the past two cen-turies, that two extremes of governance must be avoided: a lais-sez- faire individualistic philosophy that heralds each person in There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding personal spirituality and one's relationship with God. society as completely autonomous and indepen-dent, and a socialistic collectivism in which the individual sacrifices everything for the society, even to the loss of self-actualization. Within these polarities there exists a tension for each of us: to want each individual member in our community to be fulfilled and to flourish and to want our religious institutes to unleash their communal passion and energy in service of the mission of Jesus. After a long history of reflecting a more col-lectivist model, with the needs of individuals heavily subordinated to the needs of the larger community, religious life has, I think, swerved toward the Lockean-Smithian libertarian notion of the common good. Leadership itself has, at times, colluded in this--unconsciously, I think. We saw this reflected in some of our early documents after the call to renewal: the individual member was noted as our primary asset and first concern. While this concern was certainly not intended to subordinate the communal mission, experience has shown that this interrelationship has remained a serious issue for us, and we find ourselves seeking ways to lead well in the midst of escalating diversity of thought and belief. Experiences, Insights, and Questions What I say about the experience of leaders over this past decade is by no means exhaustive; I simply offer my own obser-vations: ¯ Women religious have a far stronger sense of internalized personal identity and individual maturity than previously. We also seek clarity concerning what constitutes corporate, com-munal identity .and what the requisites for membership are. Review for Religious ¯ We have witnessed a growing diversification of ministries, in which members are far more able to use their individual cre-ativity and talents in service of the gospel. ¯ We have deepened our sense of inner authority and self-direct-edness, yet we struggle with how this relates to any congre-gational ministerial focus and communal accountability. ¯ There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding per-sonal spirituality and one's relationship with God. ¯ There is a clear movement away from structures and systems that are oppressive and demeaning to women, and a deliber-ate movement toward systems that address the needs of the poor, the oppressed, and the abandoned. ¯ We have deepened our understanding of feminism in relation to our church and our world. ¯ We see an escalation of profound questioning, with conse-quences for our communal life as members of our institutes, not to mention our life as dwellers on this planet. ¯ As leaders we continue to experience the pervasive tension between our pastoral responsibility with its consequent care-giving obligations, and the possibilities of vision-driven, spirit-linking, heart-stirring leadership. ¯ We continue to examine models of leadership, modes of par-ticipation and decision making, and forms of governance that are faithful to our commitment as gospel-driven women. ¯ We live within the growing complexity of all the institutions and systems in which we minister. ¯ And we have witnessed the common good being held hostage, at times, by malaise and a depletion of communal passion. We have seen the common good compromised by leaders who have become overly preoccupied with the torment of a trou-bled individual and have diverted their attention from the broader work of leadership, with its potential to accomplish major transformations. We have witnessed the common good being co-opted by leaders who have become frightened and paralyzed in the face of an articulate few whose sociocultural precommitments distract them and others from gospel faith, the living water of religious life. At times we have also seen leaders--perhaps in misdirected efforts to affirm individu-als- fail to critique emergent societal, religious, and cultural movements as these impact on the common good of the con-gregation. 'L37 . 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good 3-8A So what is it that we have learned from what we have experi-enced? We have intensified our conviction that pluralism and diversity must work in tandem with a binding sense of identity and relationality. We know that interdependence is imperative for our survival as a planet, as nations, as a church, and as religious institutes. It is clear that all living systems are characterized by net-works of relationships. We are aware, more than ever, that all things are somehow connected and have an impact on one another for good or bad. Consequently, we know that various necessary and desirable boundaries need to be permeable enough for bond-ing with other communities and the global community to be pos-sible. We have learned, too, that neither hieratic leadership models nor totally consensual models are effective in this time of rampant change, greater complexity, and anxiety-provoking ambiguity, and we search for new ways to express leadership and exercise author-ity. We have learned that neither the subordination of individu-als to the needs of the community nor the subordination of the common good to the needs of individual members will make for a viable future. We have learned that new expressions of com-munity are being called for, whereby persons exercise true inter-dependence, participation, and responsibility about matters pertaining to the well-being of all those involved. We know that, if we are to do this, we need to develop skill in managing conflict and diversity. We have embraced even more deeply our need for ongoing contemplative reflection and conversation about mat-ters of the heart and soul. And we have learned with some trepi-dation that, insofar as profound doubt about the meaning and validity of our founding myths pervades our communities, we flirt with division and dissolution. Given all this, we are faced with serious questions. At what point does diversity within our institutes lead to entropy and orga-nizational dissolution? How will we work with our differences so that the result is synergy rather than division? How can we, with our members, become more intently engaged in the promotion of a personal communitarianism which recognizes that each per-son's dignity is most fully achieved in communion with others? What can we do as committed women of the gospel to help heal the gender and ideological rifts within our church, the racial and economic rifts in our country? What deliberate and concerted actions should we be taking as communities of faith to address Review for Religious materialistic individualism and the exploitation and mutilation of creation? How will we inspire others to that end? What signs will identify the better emergent models of leadership? In an effort to shed some light on these questions, I will focus on three areas of skill development: conflict management, guard-ing against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. By no means the only skills needed, these three call for some special attention today. Skills by themselves are, of course, not enough; but a leadership team's understanding of the princi-ples behind them can help keep the congregation moving for-ward while holding open the possibility of true synergy emerging. By synergy I mean the energy-laden, unexpected accord--or com-munion- within a group that gives it momentum toward the good which it esteems in common. Comfortable and Adept in Handling Conflict Perhaps more than any other skill, religious leaders today need the ability to manage conflict well. This prevents group-think from setting in and supports communal efficacious action. While we all know that some conflict is normal in any human relationship and an important part of the interaction in any vital group, much of what I say about managing conflict will seem counterintuitive. It flies in the face of our upbringing and our instinctive responses to confrontation. Most of us probably employ two basic responses to conflictual situations. Either we shy away from them, taking no action or procrastinating in the hope that the problem will go away, or we engage in symmetrical inter-change, being defensive or aggressive toward one another, prob-ably debating to a standoff. With the first strategy we quickly learn that the denial of the possibility of conflict is an easy way of becoming involved in one. With the second strategy we find our-selves caught in dualistic thinking that categorizes others as either with us or against us; we draw the proverbial line in the sand, and some become self-righteous winners and others demoralized losers. To use a third strategy, that is, to act counterintuitively, we anticipate and deliberately move toward that which is feared in efforts to establish connection. VCe meet conflict proactively or, in the wonderful words of William Shakespeare, we "meet the first beginnings; look to the budding mischief/before it has time to [-~9-- January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to listen and learn from one another. ripen to ,naturity." We anticipate conflict and confrontation and approach the other with the clear, well-articulated intent to dia-logue. In so doing we open the possibility of engaging in a kind of ecological relationship building, a way of working through erroneous assumptions about and resistance to one another. We do not engage in debate, but rather in dialogue that has been pre-pared for with rigorous study, prayer, and reflection. Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to lis-ten and learn from one another. Debate encour-ages dogmatic rigidity and judgment; dialogue encourages the search for insight and truth. If all parties have not prepared for the conversation by disciplined and intensive study, prayer, and reflec-tion, we are not ready to dialogue. Dialogue means that, while we are open to lis-tening and learning, we. also know that there are certain issues about which a group cannot com-promise. These include identity, internal consis-tency, and core values. A group ceases to exist as itself when these constitutive elements are com-promised. For example, leaders of religious congregations have a fundamental fiduciary obligation to promote the unity of the con-gregation. They canr~ot compromise those founding values and principles which have endured over ti,ne and which constitute the community's identity, charism, and mythic history. On the other hand, conversation and dialogue around the contentporary meaning of communal identity--no matter how divergent our understand-ings may bemis of critical importance and should not be shied away from in spurious hopes that differences will disappear. Still, to entertain that the fundamental identity of the group is open for negotiation is to promote disunity, disintegration, and ultimate demise. Membership in the group has become meaningless. A few examples: One can be a part of a group called "psy-chologists" and struggle with reformulations and new constructs relative to the study of personality and behavior. But to assert that the study of personality and behavior is no longer relevant to the discipline of psychology is to move oneself outside the iden-tity of being a psychologist. Similarly, Dominicans can struggle with how to enflesh the mandate of the order to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ in today's world, or how they will name and address contemporary heresies, but they cannot say that they will Review for Religious replace the gospel of Jesus Christ as a foundation for that preach-ing mission with some other construct. To do so would be to move outside the identity of being Dominican. Likewise, when an indi-vidual experiences a loss of identity, that person moves into a state of confusion and terror. In the most dramatic sense of this phe-nomenon, the psychotic person has little or no awareness of who she is, what she is to be doing, or what meaning there is to her very existence. This is why the therapist, as an agent of responsive and responsible authority, must take swift action to protect her from further disintegration and potential self-destruction. Good leaders take clear and directed action to protect the solidarity of the group, its commitment to unity in the face of challenges to its founding purpose, its identity and mission. They do so by calling the group to reflection, prayer, and respectful dialogue. They, with the group, walk toward what is feared and claim their truth in faith and in commitment to the greater good. Leaders in this era of connection (Lipman-Blumen, pp. 8-21) live in the midst of ongoing diversity. Accordingly, they also live in the midst of the conflicts which arise from this diversity of insight and thought. Successful handling of these conflicts demands certain assumptions: that all are committed to learn from one another and to search for truth together; that they agree to carry out the conversation to its conclusion; that they respect one another; and that no party will resort to oppressive or vindictive strategies during or after the conversation. Leaders who succeed possess an internal disposition of grace, flexibility, balance, empa-thy, courage, creativity, and a heavy dose of curiosity about the dif-ferent and unusual. But even these qualities are insufficient if leaders are frightened or unclear about or uncommitted to what constitutes the identity of the group which they have been called to serve. A time may come when evasion or avoidance--or a direct naming of the futility of carrying a discussion any further--may actually be a worthwhile move. The problem has often been that we have resorted to these moves before working proactively with the conflictual situation. Guarding against Groupthink One way, of course, of avoiding conflict within a close work group is for all to adopt patterns of thinking that are so "agree- Janttal.3,-FebtvtaD, 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good able" that disagreement becomes unthinkable: it would be "dis-loyalty." But "agreement," then, is an ambiguous thing. The greater the ambiguity, the more likely it is that a leadership group has fallen into the groupthink that some analysts describe. This dangerous dynamic arises when, in the face of adversity or perceived danger, a cohesive "ingroup" (here, the leadership team) insulates itself from conflict with the "outgroup" (here, the other members). It does this by concurrence seeking and unques-tioning agreeableness among the ingroup members. Groupthink interferes with leadership's ability to act on behalf of the com-mon good because it has closed off alternative courses of action. It falls into a tight-knit, closed system in which team members avoid deviating from consensus. The ingroup thus shares an illu-sion of unanimity concerning most of its judgments and posi-tions. In the worst scenario, certain members of the ingroup unwittingly assume the role of "mindguards" who protect the leader and other ingroup members from adverse information that might break their sense of well-being about their past decisions. Groupthink can result from a largely unconscious effort on the part of a leadership group to fortify itself, in ambiguous and con-flictual times, against perceived threats from the outgroup. It is characterized by the ingroup's feeling a certain invulnerability and having exaggerated optimism about the future. Negative feed-back has been dismissed by rationalizing, by stereotyping the behavior of members who disagree as invalid, irrelevant, erro-neous, disloyal, or uninformed. The search for truth has thus been compromised not only in the leadership group but also throughout the community, because sincere engagement between the ingroup and the outgroup has been aborted. W-hen diversity of thought has been stifled within a leadership group, stagnation, boredom, and a certain brittleness, set in. This situation comes from a misunderstanding of consensus, but it often masquerades as a nonhieratic, more feminist model of managing disagreement and arriving at decisions. Groupthink is serious and should not be underestimated. Group analysis has shown that the membership of any large group reflects the deficiencies of its leaders. V~rhen diversity of opinion, conflict, and serious dialogue find little or no room for expression in the leadership group, the membership will unconsciously mir-ror the leadership or react strongly to it, in either case jeopar-dizing the common good. Review for Religious In order to counter the unconscious pull toward groupthink, leadership teams may wish to set up safeguards. They could, for example, devise ways of getting critical evaluations of decisions and actions (including evaluations from outside the leadership team); they could, before coming to agreement, probe for alternatives; they could seek and happily come up with more than one way of addressing a given issue; they could broaden the decision-making base by consulting persons from different disciplines and areas of expertise; they could, after a period of time apart, hold a sec-ond- chance session to readdress the issue; they could simply ask whether there is "too much unanimity." Promoting Efficacious Communal Action Leadership teams that manage conflict well and avoid group-think instill in their communities the belief that it is indeed pos-sible for something important and significant to come from concerted communal action directed toward the greater good (Bandura, 1997). On the other hand, if a community has little sense that it is making a difference as a group, it will experience organizational anxiety, corporate depression, and a growing fear of the future and it will not attract new members. Leaders who work well with conflict and promote the unity of the group through a clear commitment to pursuing the truth together make a difference in this world of ours. Their fearless-ness and passion in repeatedly calling the group to fidelity to its mission have an impact. If all else is equal, a group that is more unified and clear about its identity and mission will endure beyond one that is fragmented. In other words, integration and unifica-tion contribute to life; disintegration and fragmentation, to demise. We know well that our desire to flourish is not an end in itself. Rather, we choose life as members of religious institutes because we are committed to radical discipleship. We commit ourselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a differ-ence-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the aban-doned in our world. We believe we can do this better because we are united as sisters, and so we invite others to walk with us. We do this not simply to bolster our sense of well-being, but because we believe desperately in the mission of Jesus to promote justice and right relationships among people, between people and their Januaty-Februa~y 1998 Markham ¯ Leadersh~ for the Common Good God, and among all the various peoples that dwell upon this planet. We know that this work is not finished. We invite others to join us in this connective mission of pursuing what is true, what is just, what is merciful, and what ultimately is the One who unites us all. Most of our congregations have identified issues which they see as critical to the common good of our society today. In meet-ing with communities across North America, I have noted a remarkable consensus on the critical issues calling for our response as women religious. Through chapter acts, vision statements, and communal goals, concerns about the environment, racism, the poor and oppressed, spirituality, and women's needs and oppor-tunities continue to surface. These concerns, besides inviting our deep compassion, recall us to our commitment to live the gospel as wholeheartedly as we can. I watched in awe as the NASA scientists shared the excite-ment of accomplishing something awesome. This team of women and men was jubilant that their Martian dreams, their hard work, their collaboration gave us earthlings a chance to see another world. They were passionate, and millions of us on the Internet shared their passion as we took in the unfolding events. Why, then--though our dreams and efforts on behalf of the oppressed and abandoned bring successes and are no less altruistic than those of NASA scientists--do we seem not to have such excitement and passion about our corporate accomplishments, either just among ourselves or in the eyes of others? I found myself pon-dering this question with a tinge of sadness as I watched the ongo-ing televised press briefings. We want to make a difference in our mission. We want to see something come of all our hard work. We want to know that we are participating in something that makes a tangible difference in our world. We long for excitement and passion regarding our work. When a group has a sense of nothing much coming from a colossal effort, it gets discouraged. Negative corporate conse-quences follow: heightened individualism, attrition of member-ship, loss of momentum, corporate sluggishness. While many of us individually experience satisfaction in know-ing that we are addressing those compelling needs identified through our chapter processes, I wonder if we are depriving our-selves of the possibility of magnanimous corporate accomplish-ment. I wonder if the aggregate of our individual good works has Review for Religious buried in oblivion our ability to do something passionately, and concretely, together. What might it mean for us if we were to spec-ify concretely what we will do together as a congregation--or per-haps all of our congregations in concert--by way of making a passionate and grand contribution to this Mother Earth of ours, especially the neediest causes on it? I realize that, as soon as we entertain thoughts of concerted and clearly defined com-munal endeavors, we may conjure up our worst memories of the past. The urgency of the needs of these times, however, demands that we let go of that history and allow the fire of a revived corporate passion to brighten our eyes and our vision as we look toward the future of the life and labor for which God called us together, and keeps calling us. We have dedication and commitment and a vision and a mission that are at least as broad and deep as the NASA team has. We are attuned to needs that make the Martian endeavor look small and childlike. Oppression and exploita-tion are no strangers to us. The exploitation of our planet, of the abandoned, of women and children, is daily being resisted by wonderful women religious all over this continent and beyond. But now is a time for us to come together, in ways we have never imagined, to make an even greater difference for the good of our world's people. We join with John Paul II in seeing ecological concern as a driving force in the communal mission to which we are called: The earth is ultimately a common heritage, the fruits of which are for the benefit of all . It is manifestly unjust that a privileged few should continue to accumulate excess goods, squandering available resources, while masses of people are living in conditions of misery at the very lowest level of sub-sistence. Today the dramatic threat of ecological breakdown is teaching us the extent to which greed and selfishness-- both individual and collective--are contrary to the order of creation, an order which is characterized by mutual interde-pendence . Simplicity., moderation, and discipline, as well as a spirit of sacrifice, must become part of everyday life, lest all suf-fer the negative consequences of the careless habits of a We commit OldYselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a difference-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the abandoned in our world. Januao~Feb~wa~y 1998 Markham * Leadershi~for the Common Good few . An education in ecological responsibility is urgent; responsibility for oneself, for others, and for the earth . (John Paul II, 1990) Engaging in this efficacious action on behalf of the common good calls each of us to a deeper expression of our personal value and meaning and makes it available for the well-being of one another. To lead on behalf of the common good is as exciting as it is heroic. To stay centered on the ultimate vision of unity; to manage conflict in service of what is true, faithful, and just; to stand committed to the unfolding meaning of our identity in mis-sion-- these things are the substance of leaders who invite con-version and the linking of spirits and hearts at a time when not to do so is, all too probably, to toy with death. Steering Clear of Resistance Temptations to let oneself be drawn away from the demands of such a ministry of spirit-linking leadership abound. To allow oneself to be caught up in efforts directed toward problem persons and a minimal status quo is to entrench oneself and one's con-gregation in a futile defensiveness. Recognizing the difference between getting caught up in crisis management and working with the crisis in order to promote the common good is an art form that requires continual attention and development. In the process we must guard against a certain emotional and behavioral passivity that lulls us into a tolerance of diversity without restraint. Individual efforts and accomplishments should not crowd out the larger vision of a community's contemporary identity in mis-sion. When community leaders sideline or postpone or limit a unified group response to the crying needs of God's people and God's world, when leaders give too much attention to individual members (to their preferences, their convenience, even their per-sonal gratification) or fail to set limits on behaviors that stand in the way of the greater good, then something is wrong. Any group, of course, has maintenance tasks that need atten-tion. But how much time and energy should those entrusted with leadership today spend on those tasks? Honest self-evaluation of the use of team time is an important reality test for a leadership group. Such a group needs continual creative redesign so as to become or remain free to lead and not just manage. Beyond merely managing or even merely leading, I ask con- Rev&w for Religious gregational leaders to call one another and to call our communi-ties to heroism. Call us to risk entering into conflictual conver-sations that hold promise of connecting us in trust and in hope to one another. Lead us into the midst of difficult dialogues that will bring us into deeper and more respectful relationship with all who long for a church, a society, and a world in which communion in spirit and in truth prevails. Risk calling us to concrete corpo-rate ministerial responses. Invite us to be passionate. Help us to face together the different, the other, the frightening, and the unexpected so that we may discover ever more deeply that the good which we hold in common is nothing less than participa-tion in the compassionate goodness and mystery of God. Bibliography Bandura, A. "Human Agency: The Emperor Does Have Clothes." Canadian Psychological Association Convention, Keynote Address, June 1997. Bellah, R., et al. The Good Society. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991. Claremont de Castillejo, I. Knowing Woman:/t Feminine Psychology. Harper Colophon Books, 1974. Hollenbach, D. "The Common Good Revisited." Theological Studies 50, no. I (1989), pp. 70-94. Hollenbach, D. "The Catholic University and the Common Good." Current Issues in Higher Education 16, no. 1 (1995). John Paul II. "Peace with God the Creator, Peace with All of Creation." Papal statement, 1 January 1990. Lipman-Blumen, J. The Connective Edge: Leading in an Interdependent World. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1996. Rivers, E The Way of the Owk Succeeding with lntegv-i~y in a Conflicted World. HarperSanFrancisco, 1996. Roszak, T., M.E. Gomes, and A.D Kanner, eds. Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind. San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1995. Tracy, D. Plurality and Ambiguity: Hermeneutics, Religion, Hope. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987. Whyte, D. The Heart/1roused: Poetry and the Preset'ration of the Soul in Corporate America. New York: Doubleday Currency, 1994. Wren, J.T., ed. The Leader's Companion: Insights on Leadership through the Ages. New York: Free Press, 1995. Janttary-Feb~'uary 1998 thNv N E MUNLEY Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium I love you, God, with a penny ~natch of love that I strike when the big and bullying dark of need chases my startled sunset over the hills and in the walls of my house small terrors move.~ ~edeeSSica Powers's image, "a penny match of love," is a won-rful imag~e o.f human desire for God that yearns" to be stronger, that yearns to ignite hearts, capture imaginations, shape dreams, and awaken possibilities. There is nothing paltry about God's gifts. God longs to kindle our penny matches of love into a growing fire as we gather here, more than a thousand strong, representing ninety-four percent of the women religious of the United States. It is a precious gift to be alive and to be called to leadership as one millennium ends and another begins. The last decades of the 20th century have been a time of cataclysmic change. The coming of the third millennium is certain to prompt diverse mus-ings about the challenges of this moment in history. Some, lament-ing present evils, will forecast doom. Others will gloss over substantive issues of dignity and justice to focus on the bizarre. Still others, including ourselves, will view the millennium as a kairos time for renewing hearts and transforlning society. Anne Munley IHM presented this paper, here edited and somewhat short-ened, as the presidential address to the August 1997 national assembly, in Rochester, New York, of the Leadership Conference of V¢o~nen Religious. She may be addressed at the I.H.M. Center; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. Review for Religious The year 2000 presents the world with an extraordinary occa-sion to commemorate-the birth of Christ as an historical fact and as a saving event for humanity for all times. The new millennium is an invitation to renewed wonder at the lavishness of a God who so loved the world that Jesus, the Christ, took on human flesh that all might become alive in God. We are called to leadership in a time when humanity yearns for connection with God, with one another, and with all creation. Yet we are acutely aware that we live in a world of violence, envi-ronmental desecration, economic polarization, racism, poverty, systemic oppression, and cultural breakdown. Our senses are bur-dened with images of human suffering in the homes, streets, vil-lages, neighborhoods, suburbs, and cities of this nation and throughout the world. In this age of globalization, when the peo-ples of the world are linked together as never before by commu-nication, economic interdependence, and the diffusion of cultural values, gaps continue to grow between rich and poor. Most peo-ple would agree that beneath obvious contemporary problems lie a crisis of the spirit and an erosion of concern for the common good. There is little sense that all the peoples of the earth are brothers and sisters having a common destiny in one global fam-ily created by the God of infinite love and compassion, but such a sense is what is needed." Inside the walls of our house, "the bul-lying dark of need" aches to see flames of love and moral com-mitment, aches for a revolution of the human heart and a resurgence of spiritual leadership. There are many signs of hope for this moment: conscious-ness that there is a crisis, desire for practical life-giving solutions, hunger for meaning, purpose, and direction and a longing for connectedness. The biblical concept of jubilee offers a revolu-tionary vision of reform for these times. The call to jubilee rec-ognizes the sanctity of time, the sacredness of creation, the importance of rest and contemplation, the equality of all in the eyes of God, the need to attend to the common good and the jus-tice of right relationships. The biblical jubilee calls for forgiveness, reconciliation, and joy, not ju.st an inner joy but a jubilation that is expressed in communal celebration) In proclaiming a new covenant of unity among peoples, Jesus brought the jubilee promise to life. We lead in a time of soul-stretching possibility. It is a holy time for "bringing good news to the afflicted, liberty to captives, January-Februaly 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed." One of the greatest gifts that leaders can bring to this age is a sense of hope that transformation is possible. This gift is a penny match of love that can ignite great fires. Scientists tell us that tiny movements can have a huge cumulative impact on vast systems.4 Spiritual seekers discovered this truth long ago. In the words of Kukei, an 8th-century Zen master: "A hand moves, and the fire's whirling takes different shapes . All things change when we do."SMore than anything else these times need leaders who can bring to the outer world the transforming spirit of the inner world. Spiritual Leadership Recent literature about leadership reflects growing awareness that spirituality sustains community, meaning, and hope. The titles of many of these works suggest a shift toward conscious-ness of the inner life: Leading with Soul, The Corporate Mystic, The Heart .4roused, The Soul of Politics, and "Leading from Within.''6 The message of Leading ~vitb Soul is that leadership is a jour-ney of the heart. Heart, hope, faith, compassion, and courage are essential to leadership, to the creation of communities of mean-ing, and to a rediscovery of the ethical and spiritual center of society. Corporate mystics are spiritual leaders who are comfort-able with their own spirituality and who nurture the spiritual development of others. Corporate mystics call forth the best in themselves and others; they operate with integrity and intuition and pursue their visions with passion and compassion. In The Heart/1roused, the poet David Whyte links the inner world of spirit and creativity to the preservation of the soul in corporate America. Whyte knows well that leadership from within involves far more than techniques, plans, goals, or strategies. In his latest book of poetry, The House of Bdonging, he urges us to remember:7 What you can plan is too small for you to live. To be human is to become visible while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others. Re'view for Religious Jim Wallace in The Soul of Politics and Parker Palmer in his essay "Leading from Within" emphasize responsibility for co-creating the world we live in by bringing to it the best of our spiritual traditions and convictions. Our spiritual traditions tell us that we are not victims of the world as it is, but are its co-cre-ators. Borrowing from Annie Dillard,s Palmer says that, unless leaders are willing to take the spiritual journey inward and down-ward, we are likely to project what we hate in ourselves onto other people because we fear to face the enemy in our own souls. Great leaders have the courage to face their shadow side and consciously choose to project a spirit of light. Our own experiences on the inner journey and as women religious committed to co-creation of a just and loving world are a valuable part of our call to lead-ership within our communities. Gift of a Heart Afire At this national assembly of ours in outstate New York, I recall the determination and incredible belief in possibility of the hand-ful of women who organized in 1848 the Seneca Falls Convention that lit a fire to change the legal and political position of women in the United States. Using various means to secure suffrage for women, leaders like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone, and Carrie Chapman Cart drew on their inner fire to breathe spirit and passion into their quest for reform. Women like Mice Paul, Lucy Burns, and Rose Winslow must have drawn deeply on their inner strength as they endured impris-onment, hunger strikes, and forced feedings. I recall also the countless women from all ethnic, class, and racial backgrounds who addressed severe social problems at the end of the last century and the early decades of this one. I recall the inner fire, faith, and vision that sustained the founding and pioneer members of our congregations, enabling them to over-come great obstacles. In the depths of their hearts they realized that, for those who love, the impossible becomes possible. I am conscious of the millions of people who daily confront abuses of human rights and work for change. I am conscious of all of the women religious throughout the world who, with listening hearts and eyes focused on today's fierce urgencies and spiritual hungers, continue to imagine alternate possibilities as they struggle toward the reality of God's reign in the immediate circumstances of daily January-February 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire life. I am conscious of the collective spiritual energy in this room and of the force that it is for the life of the world. Understood in its broadest sense, spirituality includes more than the inner life. It is, in the words of the theologian Anne Carr, "the whole of one's spiritual or religious experience, one's beliefs, convictions, and patterns of thought, one's emotions and behavior in respect to what is ultimate, or to God.''9 As women of faith and conviction, the greatest resource we can bring to the new millennium is the spiritual leadership of a heart afire. Spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good for all. When the heart is on fire, light comes from within. With the "eyes of the enlightened heart," we can see the hope to which we are called (Ep 1:18). By baptism and the mystery of vocation we have proclaimed publicly that the quest for God and the new creation is the fire of our lives. Our world longs for visible expressions of God's saving presence and for new ways of seeing that are graces of the inner experi-ence of God's love. In the Christian tradition seeing with the eyes of the heart occurs on the journey of discipleship. Discipleship is not an easy journey. It is an ongoing effort to live the gospel with integrity--trying, sometimes succeeding, often failing, recognizing the need of being forgiven and then trying again. It is a way of being in the world that affects every relationship. Disciples shape one another according to the action of the Spirit in their lives. The energy of the disciple flows from faith in what_is unseen yet believed. At its root, discipleship is a call to a love that never gives up on God, one's neighbor, or oneself. Disciples are called to love well., as Jesus did, with hope, truth, fidelity, and compassion. This leads inevitably to taking a stand with the Christ of the paschal mystery, who willingly laid down his life in love so that all may have life in abundance. In these times, spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good. for all. Such transformation will happen in our communities and in the world around us when Review for Religious precepts of compassion and justice inspire the collective soul and have an impact on behavior. All around us and among us there are compelling stories of discipleship. As leaders we need to see them with the eyes of the heart. In the sharing of the stories, heart touches heart and souls are filled with the spirit that makes ongoing commitment possible. Meaning-Making Spiritual leaders empower their communities for ongoing commitment by keeping questions of meaning before them: Why are we together in community? How are we called to the unique circumstances of these times? What is our commitment to one another and to those with whom we journey? In times of sub-stantive change there is an extraordinary need to explore ques-tions of meaning and purpose. In the midst of chaos, a coherent worldview and a dynamic understanding of the relevance of reli-gious life are helps toward interpreting the signs of the times and living discipleship with integrity. Leaders can make an enor-mous contribution to this process by helping the other members to make sense of shifting fealties both outside religious !ife and within it. At the deepest level, our congregations are held together by myths, values, beliefs, and foundational stories. These are the roots of the congregation's identity and purpose. They constitute the why of our being together as communities. They have their effect on the passion with which we live our mission. They influ-ence the way we use resources, the way we work together to press the mission forward. The shared meaning and work and mem-ory of our lives together provide symbols, relationships, and prin-ciples for making sense of the changes going on within us and around us. Shared meaning is essential for shared commitment. At a time of rapid social change and shifting demographics and resources, spiritual leadership is not about getting people to do something. It is about helping the group to keep before itself the kind of meaning that will guide choices and call forth com-mitment.~° Spiritual leadership is a group process rather than an individual's personal qualities or skills. It is interactive and rela-tional. When members of a community are closely involved in piecing shared meanings together as a basis for corporate action or direction, they experience significance together, discovery together, leadership together. Today, as many congregations grap- pie with issues of governance and restructuring, it is a key func-tion of leadership to foster meaning-making together. The more things change around us and within us, the more important it will be to create connections for exploring the pos-sibilities that change and newness offer. As Margaret Wheatley notes, "Life invites us to create not only the forms but even the process of discovery.''l~ The kind of effort that we put into mean-ing- making will affect the credibility of our way of life as well as our own sense of authenticity and integrity. Integrity and Justice In

Issue 55.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1996. ; Review for Religious is a fo,utm for Sb~red reflection on the liVed experience of all who ~nd that the CbnrCb!s rich heritages of spi~tnality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written f!,om a theological or spirirudl or sometimes canonical point'of view: Rcview for Rcligious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by thc Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Lot, is, Missouri 63108-3393. "l'elcphone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Mant, scripts, books for review, and correspondcncc with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Liudcll Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counscl departutcnt: Elizabeth Mcl)onough OP St. Bernadette Convent ¯ 76 University, Blvd. East ¯ Silver Spring, MI) 20901 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missot, ri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on st,bscription rates. ®1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to cop)' 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 ,mticc of thc source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying fi~r commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer sJ 'Regina Siegfridd 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 Heritagesand Contemporary Living JAlXq3ARY-FEBRUARYI996 ¯ VOLUME55 ¯ NVUMBER1 contents feature Healthy Eating in a Spiritual Context Paul N. Duckro, Randall C. Flanery, and Philip Magaletta consider the biological, social, and spiritual dimensions of hunger, food, and eating in everyday life. leadership 21 Transformative Leadership: Key To Viability Andr~e Fries CPPS highlights the qualities of leadership which address the questions of an instimte's own viability. 34 The Call to Spiritual Leaders: Beacons of Hope Gerald L. Brown SS focuses on the qualities and skills and supports which are a neqessary part of spiritual leadership. 46 55 ecumenism Bridging Interreligious Dialogue and Conversion James H. Kroeg~r MM takes the paschal mystery as the integrating focus of all evangelization, dialogue, and conversion. AVisit to Taizd Dennis J. Billy CSSR shares an experience of the ecumenical vision of Taiz& Review for Religious 61 70 religious life Has the Renewal of Religious Life Been a Success? Doris Gottemoeller RSMtakes the thirty-year perspective since Vatican Council II to highlight five learnings for a vital religious life. ATable Set by Bold Dreamers Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ relates a planning weekend experience in the province life of a religious community that results in a communion consciousness. viewpoints 75 Turning Over a New Leaf: a New Year's Passage Robert S. Stoudt points the annual human phenomenon of making New Year's resolutions to a more efficacious process. 84 Reflections on Turning Seventy Mary Boyan OSU gives an example of how one "thinks old" and is happy to do so. departments 4 Prisms 87 Canonical Counsel: The Potest~s of Religious Superiors according to Canon 596 92 Book Reviews January-February 1996 prisms As Review for Religious begins 1996 and its fifty-.fifth year of publication, some new aspects will be evident. We are using color highlighting through-out the text. The cover color of each issue will carry through in the banner divisions, the running titles, and the pagination. We hope that just a bit of color through-out will be enhancing to the text and pleasing to the eye. Each issue will not only look a little different, but it will also feel a little different. We are reducing the num-ber of pages to help us face the major raise in paper costs and to cope with the escalating mail costs both nationally and internationally. At our last advisory board meeting, we considered the various options of raising subscription prices, separating out mailing costs, or reducing the num-ber of pages and weight of each issue. One of the reflec-tions from our informal survey of readers was that a Review for Religious which would be a little less hefty in size would at the same time be a little more reader-friendly. Our 160-page size made us twice the size of most journals published bimonthly or even quarterly. And so we opted for a reduction in the number of pages. We will have three or so fewer articles per issue, but the quality will remain. We are also pleased that we can keep the jour-nal coming to our readers at the same subscription price. There is a change noted amo.ng our advisory board members. We are welcoming a married couple, Jim and Joan Felling. Jim and Joan have been very active in parish life both in Canada and in the United States, particularly Revlew for Religious through their involvement with the Christian Life Community. Joan is presently president of the National Federation of Christian Life Communities in the United States. Their longtime interest in lay spirituality, their involvement in the Ignatian retreat move-ment, and their respect for the spirituality heritages which our journal reflects make them valuable additions to our board. As editor I want to express my gratitude for the contribution of Joann Wolski Conn to our board and wish her well in her continued teaching, workshop schedule, and writing. On the inside back cover I call attention to the new director for the Xavier Society for the Blind, Mfred E. Caruana SJ. As I acknowledge Father Caruana, I also want to reemphasize~the availability of each issue of Review for Religious on cassettes to the visually impaired. Readers can note the contact address on the inside back cover. Revie& for Religious also announces the publication of a new book, Ignatian Exercises: Contemporary Annotations. It is Book 4 in The Best of the Review series. Edited by David L. Fleming SJ., the book includes an original introductory a~rticle "Following Christ More Nearly: Discipleship in Ignatian Spirituality" and twenty-eight other articles on vision, conversion, examination, attitude, prayer, discernment, and adaptation. It is meant to be a rich resource book for Ignatian spirituality, and it makes a good com-panion volume to Book 1 6f The Best of the Review, Notes on the Spiritual Exercises of~St. Ignatius of Loyola. The cost is $12.95 plus a $2.00 shipping and handling fee. The book can be ordered only through our editorial offices in St. Louis, Missouri. An order form for the book can be found on the insert page at the back of this 'issue. I fiope that all our readers will enjoy the new look and feel of the new volume in this new year. David L. Fleming SJ JannaD,-Febrlla~7 1996 feature PAUL N. DUCKRO, RANDALL C. FLANERY, AND PHILIP R. MAGALETTA Healthy Eating in a Spiritual Context Of the many gifts given to human beings, experiencing a particular event through our various powers of sensation and then finding a depth of meaning in it besides is one of the richest. Events that on the surface are commonplace and repetitive offer strange and deep collaborations with the Spirit. It is from this perspective that the present arti-cle considers the matter of eating, and particularly healthy eating. Most obviously, of course, eating is a biological event in response to the cue of hunger. Eating sustains life by providing necessary nutrients and bulk. But eating is also behavior, a culturally defined activity and experience. There is in it pleasure, social interaction, and ritual for celebration or mourning. Our Scriptures contain many references to important meals. In Exodus 24:11 the encounter with God is itself an occasion marked by eating and drinking. The Gospels are replete with recollections of Jesus in Which eating or Paul N. Duckro, Randall C. Flanery and Philip R. Magaletta may be addressed at The Program for Psychology and Religion; Saint Louis University Health Sciences Center; 1221 South Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63104. This article sum-marizes the content of a seminar offered at Saint Louis University by Randall C~ Flanery PhD, Joseph Gillespie OP, Rabbi James Goodman, Dismas Bonnet OFM, and Paul N. Duckro PhD. The article incorporates freely the content presented by the speakers. In some cases unique contributions of a particular presenter are noted with initials: Review for Religious refraining from eating serve to illustrate realization of the reign of God among us. A ritual meal serves as the occasion for seeking and being brought close to our God; we hunger for the Feast that desires also to be incarnated in us. The Word becomes flesh. Meals, however, may also be occasions for spiritual discipline. Incredibly, this routine behavior, fraught with peril for excess or deprivation, holds also great promise for growth in mind and spirit. Our personal recollections supply many images of eating. For most of us, early memories of food involve parents, brothers and sisters, and our extended family. Eating together is a way of mark-ing both celebration and grief. Our brains record and continue to respond to aromas of food prepared in "the old neighborhood"-- °bread baking, boiling cabbage, simmering sauce, pie cooling on the window sill. The dinner table might bring sensations of full-ness or barely touched hunger, joyful sharing or painful recrim-ination. In these contexts, food takes on meaning that transcends its biological function. It may also serve as a reward for being good, a reassurance of love, a cheery note amid sfldness. The meal may become the means of.healing brokenness or masking it. Issues of control and dependence may be expressed in feeding and being fed. In many dysfunctional families (or religious communities), dining together is "the last fiction of civility," with the group act-ing out much unspoken pain in the practiced rituals of the meal. Early memories get acted out in the way we eat as adults. In reli-gious communities the great variety of personal histories interacts with the prevalent culture of the congregation and is reflected in the variety of ways meals are handled in local communities. Food may be served family style or in a cafeteria line. All may sit down together or each may eat apart. Meals may be'a time, to interact or a time to eat hurriedly. Information may be shared, or discus-sion may be only an unwelcome interruption~of the functioning of teeth, tongue, and throat, The atmosphere may be warm and quiet or cold and noisy. The particular history of the individual contributes mightily to his or her experience of a meal. Present events, however, also play their role. Eating may bear the weight of stifled needs for social intimacy and nurturance. A spiritual emptiness may also become the occasion for a determined effort to fill oneself with food. There is in all of us an empty place that longs for God and Januat~y-Februa~y 1996 Duckro ¯ Healthy Eating in a Spiritual Context cannot be filled with any ordinary substance. When we forget this, food can become an addictive substance, a pseudosatisfier. We stuff substances into an emptiness that is never satisfied by sub-stances (JG). When self-denial is the guiding paradigm for life, eating and desire to eat may become obsessive in an effort to satisfy the deprivation. Many of us have learned from others an ambivalence toward physical pleasure and nurturance. There is conflict in bal-ancing self-care and care of others, Enjoying the body may be seen as an obstacle to transcending the body. The instability resulting from such conflicts leads to eating too much or too lit-tle or to alternation between the two extremes (PD~. Culture, too, contributes to the experience of food and its consumption. In North American culture, it is widely held that the" shape of the body is an exhibition of the value and character of the person. Implicit in this beliefoare the following thoughts: that the body is a pliable entity that can be made to conform to any expec-tation, given sufficient effort; that one should exert such effort to shape the body according to the current perceptions of beauty; and that failure to do so indicates that one is either lazy or irre-sponsible, lacking in virtue (RF). Such personal, social, cultural, and spiritual elements con-tribute to the eating experiences of individuals and communities. The elements interact to form our habitual approach to eating. How we~handle or manage them is a function largely of our atten-tion to them. Thei'r effects and the responses we make to them, automatically or consciously, may be biological, behavioral, cog-nitive, affective, or social. These effects and various typical responses to them are. detailed in many sources and serve to focus the clinical treatment'of problematic eating patterns. This article focuses on the spiritual dimensions of healthy eating patterns, Every major faith tradition has developed its own laws regard-ing.' food and eating. In many religions, eating is in itself incor-porated into ritual, transforming it from the mundane to the sacred. Eating is also an occasion for discipline, often in the form of fasting. In the Hebrew Scriptures, fasting is prescribed as a symbolic act of humility and prayer, done in remembrance of God and as repentance for sins. Fasting also prepares people for a great new undertaking. Detachment from the physical makes room for the spiritual. The Christian tradition builds on these considera-tions, adding an emphasis on chastening the 'body. Fasting Review for Religiot¢.¢ becomes a means of purifying the mind and body and of pro-moting an openness to God by linking one with the suffering Christ. Refraining from food also means that the money saved can be given to the poor (DB). In our modern world, these ideas continue to influence the meaning of fasting as a discipline. Christians become more truly "bread for the world" as members of the body of Christ when they limit expenditures for their own food and use the money to provide food for the poor, experiencing in hunger a solidarity with the poor and learning to receive the fruits of the earth without taking them for granted. These experiences are particularly important for those who live in the midst of many resources and in relative comfort (DB). Fasting should not become an end in itself. The desire to suffer can be as much a trap as any other desire, distracting from detachment's true goal, which is to clear the pathway toward authentic love (JG). Severe fasts can focus the mind on the body as much as gluttony can, and even more. Fasting is most likely to lead beyond itself when it is done in moderation and tailored ~to the individual. The goal is to foster a balance, a spirit of detachment, and thus to reduce conflict and ambivalence regarding food. Encountering food consciously is a significant aspect of making progress toward this goal. Severe fasts can focus the mind on the body as much as gluttony can. The Inner Way We describe this conscious encounter with food, with the act of eating, and with attendant phenomena as the inner way, This inner way is a facet of the mystical in each of the major faith tra-ditions. Called by many names (mindfulness, remembrance, aware-ness, contemplation), this way essentially demands cultivating the experiente of the presence of God in all things, although the words and images u_.sed to describe such experience vary ainong religions. The emphasis is on the present moment. In this simple awareness of what is, self and object are transformed; essence is revealed. At table, mindfulness blesses and transforms both the food and the act of eating, elevating the common physical act of eating to holi-ness in the mysticism of the everyday. God dwells where one lets God in (JG). When people do their eating contemplatively, they Januaty-Febt'uaty 1996 Duckro ¯ Healthy Eating in a Spiritual Context Food alone, is never "enough"; we eat and are hungry again. find God in their hunger, in the sensations associated with the food, and in those with whom they eat. As Martin Buber says, "One eats in holiness and the table becomes an altar." The inner way also releases us from the repetitive cycles of compulsiveness and addiction. Awareness wakens us from the soporific state from which compulsivity has grown and stands in opposition to the compartmentalization, denial, rationalization, minimization, and automatic behavior that sustain it. In contemplation we are moved by awareness of self and nonself toward conscious choice. ° In a very real sense, most of us have spent much of our waking lives asleep. Many dys-functional patterns of eating originate as if in a dream. They develop gradually, unrecognized by the doer. Hunger of an emotional, social, or spiritual nature is quieted with food, but only temporarily. The hunger must be satisfied more and more fre-quently. When people eat rapidly, the signs of satiation are passed by like highway billboards, seen only in a blur until we are stuffed. Fears of aging, of ugliness, or of sexuality are confused with tak-ing in food and then placated by near starvation. Almost imper-ceptibly the appearance of the body and the regulation of food intake become the primary focus of attention, distracting us from the greater aspects of reality (PD). Applying the inner:'way to the promotion of healthy eating requires developing the habit of awareness with regard to hunger and eating. Htinger becomes a sensation for a person to experience before acting on qt. Desires arising from hunger are to be visual-ized and sorted out in the larger context of health, community, society. Eating is a multifaceted event to be experienced in all its elements, deliberately and slowly. There are the textures, smells, colors, temperatures, tastes of the food itself. The origin of the food might be considered--those who grew it, delivered it, pre-pared it. Buddhist monk and author Thich Nhat Hanh finds "everything in the universe in one tangerine." He recalls that the tangerine began within a tree, on which the fruit appeared and from which someone picked it. "Eating mindfully is a most impor-tant practice in meditation. The purpose of eating is to eat." Those with whom one eats--the congruence or incongruence between sharing this sacred feast and the state of the relation- Review Jbr Religious ships--might be experienced as well. In awareness while eating, we are awake to the food, the self, others, and the Other. A contemplative stance regarding eating is always helpful in bringing this common behavior to fuller experience, experience of life in God. It moves the individual, in itself and in synergy with clinical treatment, toward the goal of moderation in eating. Awareness changes the preconceived notions of how much food one needs to feel satisfied. The concepts of "enough" or "full-ness" are revisited. Food alone is never "enough"; we eat and are hungry again. Food, in the context of the total experience of din-ing, can be part of the experience of "enough," having all that you really need. The practice of full awareness is a discipline. The goal is not fully attainable, and it is the journey rather than the destination that is of importance. Continuing the journey day after day requires the use of behavioral, cognitive, and spiritual tools that facilitate a contemplative attitude vis-?i-vis hunger, food, and eating. Becoming Aware Eating is a richly multidimensional experience touching almost every aspect of life. M.EK. Fisher, quoted at length in the introduction to C.L. Flinders's Enduring Grace, says it well: "It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others . There is commu-nion of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine drunk." ~ The ideas we have considered--the biological, social, and spiritual dimensions of hunger, food, and eating--need to be applied to everyday life and are, of course, especially relevant to persons who have some dysfunctional habit regarding food or their body image. Sometimes a dysfunctional eating pattern reaches the point of illness, in itself or in the form of an associ-ated affective disorder, and may call for clinical treatment. When eating becomes illness, the consequences may be even life-threat-" ening. In such cases it is prudent to seek medical and psycholog-ical diagnosis and treatment. We focus here on the gains that are possible when the expe-rience of hunger and the act of eating are made more conscious. (We refer to this heightened consciousness either as awareness, JanuaO,-Febr~ta~y 1996 Duckro ¯ Healthy Eating in a Spiritual Context mindfulness, or a contemplative stance with regard to everyday life.) There is much to be gained in developing this contemplative stance, regularly interrupting the automatic habits that have been formed with regard to food and opening up the mysteries of body, mind, and spirit that lie hidden there. In developing awareness, one lays the only foundation for real choice. A contemplative stance in life depends not so much on mov-ing physically away from our usual world as it does on learning and using a fresh perspective on the familiar. It may even be that this learning is best done in the place where the familiar may be found. Awareness is, ~first of all, being present to what is happen-ing now. Eating has behavioral, cognitive, emotional, and social elements that are often ignored when we are caught up in a dys-functional pattern. Persons who to even casual observers appear obsessed with eating may be almost completely unaware of the fact. They wolf down food, violendy avoid it, or alternate between the two. Efforts to suppress the appetite make of it an insistent stranger and even an enemy, causing the house to be at war with itself. Paradoxically, conscious awareness of eating leads, not to preoccupation with food, but to a real integration of food, eating, and body image, to the benefit of the spiritual journey. The indi-vidual becomes more aware of the other hungers sometimes mis-taken for physical hunger, of the other fears that sometimes lie hidden beneath overt fears of being fat or self-indulgent. Approaching the Meal ¯ A primary method for increasing awareness with regard to eating is to get oneself to calm down before meals. The most commonly suggested method is a breathing exercise. This method is easily learned, even by busy persons ,and those who do not take easily to meditation or contemplative prayer. Breathing is in itself a well-rehearsed and automatic act, seldom given consci6us atten-tion in everyday life. It is a rich .experience, however, when given one's full attention, and breathing for relaxation is much more powerful than one might expect such a simple act to be. As the body relaxes, the mind becomes receptive and even the most rigid defenses begin to yield. One sees more clearly and can stop'cling-ing fearfully to illusions of control or predictability. The technique of breathing for relaxation is simple, but not commonly practiced. The goal is effortless deep breathing, breath- Review for Religious ing with the diaphragm, not dramatically expanding the rib cage or elevating the shoulders. Rate and rhythm vary, but the move-ment is toward slow rhythmic breaths, just enough to sustain the body in its current metabolic need. Flexibility is important, allow-ing for adjustments in rate and depth of breathing as needed, avoiding rigid adherence to some "right" way. Taped relaxation exercises may be useful in learning the actual technique so that it can be applied easily and discreetly, even at table. Imagery Breathing for relaxation before eating helps one to be fully present to the meal. Many things are happening at that moment: internal sensations of hunger and reactions to the food and also to the company. You bring with you the context of your day, past or anticipated, with its various emotions, You likewise bring the many habits that you have formed about the process of eating, all ready to be put into motion automatically. Selected use of imagination can enhance the value of the breathing exercise for awareness purposes. The images can vary widely, depending on the need. A few examples may show how this simple adjunct can facilitate relaxed breathing. An image of )qtllness directs attention, to what is alre, ady there. It reminds the body that what is felt as physical hunger may have roots in the psy-chological or spiritual. One is moved to feel more clearly what is already present and satisfying, as well as what is longed for. In turn, food is allowed to be just what it is. As the food is ingested, satiation will be recognized more quickly and accurately, pre-venting the uncomfortable sense of being "stuffed." One knows what is "enough." Thich Nhat Hanh suggests imagining your-self as a mountain lake, deep and still. There is a comfortable sense of fullness as you become this lake in which is contained all of the sky above it. Try this for a moment. As you breathe in, say, "I am a lake," and as you breathe out, "deep and still." In coming to fuller awareness of emotions like frustration, disappointment, or discouragement, an image of flexibility and resilience may be useful. To borrow again from Thich Nhat Hanh, consider a flower along your path, fresh and supple, swaying in the smallest breeze, yet always coming back to face the sun. Imagine yourself as that flower, moved by the smallest breeze, but not broken. See in your reaction to the day a sensitivity that you can Januat.~-Febtvlat~y 1996 Duckro ¯ Healthy Eating in a Spiritual Context turn to good, responding even to the quietest whisper from the mouth of God. As you breathe in, say, "I am a flower," and as you breathe out, "fresh." Images that evoke joy have a place in any setting, but they are also very useful as you prepare to eat. Tony de Mello SJ offered a subtle prayer idea: "BEhold God beholding you., and smiling." It can be used as an image eliciting joy. With each inhalation say, "I see the face of God," and with each exhalation, "smiling at me." Smile back, in your heart and on your lips. In this spirit of joy, remember all those who made the food in front of you pos-sible. Remember those who share your table. Anticipate the tastes of the food and also the fullness you will feel. Areas of Change We have discussed a process for becoming more aware or mindful of the act of eating. Awareness is the foundation for choice, allowing for the possibility of change in what has become repetitive and automatic. As you increase awareness, you will encounter many phenomena. The rest of this article considers some of the behaviors, thoughts, and feelings you may encounter. We will emphasize the forms of these phenomena that best serve a conscious and healthy approach to eating. Each time you choose to practice becoming more aware, select one of these areas for special attention. Behaviors Eating slowly has several advantages. By doing so, you are more likely to recognize feeling full before you have overeaten. The message of fullness takes some time to form in the stomach and be recognized in the brain. If you are very busy taking in food, you are likely to miss the earliest indications, and; by the time you do get the message, a considerable amount of food will already be in the "pipeline." Eating slowly also helps make the meal a sensory experience, permitting some attention to be given to the taste, texture, appearance, and aroma of the food. Particular behavioral practices can help make the slower pace of eating seem more natural, even when you are not fully aware of yourself. Develop the habit of letting go of your utensils between mouthfuls, chewing thoroughly before swallowing, and Review for Religious pausing to converse or think throughout the meal. When eating alone, try making of the meal a purely sensory experience, chew-ing, smelling, and of course savoring various items with deliber-ate attentiveness. You may find much to enjoy in what was previously an automatic and essentially neglected activity. Before any meal, your preparation for it offers an opportunity for choices leading to healthier eating. If it is your lot to shop for food for yourself or your local community, shop from a list and avoid shopping when you are very hungry. If you do, you are like-lier to choose foods that really are appropriate and desirable rather than foods that rely on impulse for their appeal. Planning meals is preferable to throwing something together. If you plan when you are full rather than when you are "starving," the chances are that you will have a balanced meal, both in quality and quantity. However, even taking a little time to plan just. before cooking is not wasted. Cooking can itself be a mindless or a mindful activity. Take time to look, smell, and taste (a little), bringing these sensations to your mind and your mind to the sensations. For those with busy schedules, some com-promises are in order. Carrying a low-calorie snack may forestall a desperate (as opposed to planned) run to the candy machine; planning what to eat and drink before a cocktail hour begins may curtail mindless grazing. The challenges are great for those who travel frequently, but even there planning for your nourishment may keep you from reach-ing a state of agitated exhaustion or a sense of deprivation. Food choices are important; what you eat affects how you feel and how healthy your body will be. Although dietary advice from medical science is sometimes frustrating in its fickle incon-stancy, you can follow some basic guidelines. Most of us in the United States get more fat than we need; choosing low-fat foods, avoiding fried foods, trimming or skimming fat can compensate. Seeking vitamins in their natural forms (foods) rather than in the latest dietary supplement is a reliable strategy; vegetables, fruits,. and grains have proved themselves over many centuries. Physical exercise complements a healthy eating pattern. Regular aerobic exercise is desirable, but even consciously increas-ing the amount of activity required to complete our daily tasks Before any meal, your preparation for it offers an opportunity for choices leading to healthier eating. Janua~y-Feblvtaty 1996 Duckro ¯ Healthy Eating in a Spiritual Context is helpful. Parking farther away rather than circling to get close to the door, taking stairs rather than waiting interminably for the elevator, walking a mile to our nekt appointment rather than driv-ing and hunting fifteen minutes for a place to park are just a few examples. A body with more muscle and a higher metabolism makes more effective use of what we eat. Thoughts and Feelings Consider your attitude toward your body. For many people, the body is experienced almost as "notself." Appetites like hunger may be viewed as "enemy," the body an object to be controlled or modified or concealed because of your feelings of shame about this or that feature of it: A particularly destructive way to expe-rience your body is to see it as a public and decisive measure of your self-worth. Achieving a particular physical appearance or following a specific dietary regimen becomes a testimony to your quality as a human being. It can even become a moral question. My body identifies me as a morally superior being or, conversely, publicly demonstrates my inferiority. From these premises, fail-ure to achieve the desired body image or follow the ideal diet can overshadow many positive qualities and can lead to a pervasive sense of inadequacy, a mood of depression. A healthier alternative is to cultivate proactively a true appre-ciation for your body, valuing it for its varied qualities, seeing in it the image of God. Contemplation of its complexities and the many functions carried out each moment, making your very phys-ical life possible, is a wonderful way to become reacquainted with this aspect of yourself. Be aware of your reaction to each part or function. Ask yourself how you came to feel this way. Review your history with this part or function. Remind yourself of the good it has done you or others. Consider what harm. you may have done or continue to do to it. Think of yourself in ~relationship to each part, imperfect but all yours, and consider how you wish to relate. Self-esteem is possible when we not only see what we might be, but also love what we are. In addition to attitudes toward the body, consider your atti-tudes toward foods and eating itself. We carry decided, but often unconscious, judgments about what we eat, when we eat, and why. At any given time certain foods are labeled "bad" or "good" for us. The judgments may be deeply ingrained and long-standing, or Review Jbr Religious they may change in harmony with the whirling carousel of inedia reports on the latest killer food. Ideally, we begin to develop a continuum in our attitudes toward foods to replace this dichoto-mous thinking. Any food can be more positive or negative depend-ing on many things, including the amount, our physical condition, available exercise, and (not least) our authentic desire for it. Our eating also has a decided pattern or rhythm to it, even if it can only be described as chaotic. Our hunger may be dichotomized or blended with other motives. We may experience ourselves only as "starved" or "stuffed." Such sensations bring with them a sense of urgency, requiring some immediate response. Try these two exercises. When you feel starved, wait five min-utes with the sensations. As you sit with them, transform them from a drive to ingest food immediately to an experience that will enhance the taste of the food you are about to enjoy. If you reg-ularly feel stuffed, stop eating for a few moments halfway through your meal. As you converse with those around you, observe your sensations for a few moments and see how close you are to being full. Hunger may reflect desires other than pleasure and the bio-logical need for sustenance; food may become medicine for lone-liness or a stopper for anger. In this way, eating may become a coping response for emotional distress, tension, or deprivation. The effort to soothe the disquiet with food may bring short-term relief. Long-term, it simply misses the mark and brings with it additional undesired consequences'. In this: dichotomizing or blending of physical hunger with emotion, we lose touch with the ever changing quality of our desire for food itself and increase our chances of eating too.much or too little. Being in communion with our feelings gives us the opportu-nity to perceive more clearly the multifaceted nature of our hungers. In so doing, We are better able to recognize that we are physically full even while we remain hungry emotionally or spir-itually. Each of us has a natural physiological regulatory mecha-nism that directs the sensations of hunger and satiation. (Dysfunction of this system appears to be possible, but is a sub-ject for another time.) We can, however, become deaf to its mes-sage: "Enough." Other hungers can be expressed indirectly in the desire for more food. Slowing down enough to listen, we may yet hear its still, small voice faithfully calling. As with most aspects of the self, the best response to non- Jantmt3,-Febt'uaty 1996 Duckro ¯ Healthy Eating in a Spiritual Context food hungers is not to suppress them, but to become more aware of them. Using a diary,or some other way of becoming alert to our sensations, thoughts, and feelings regularly throughout the day is a reliable way to learn what food we truly need and what hungers of ours reflect emotional drives. A careful review of thoughts and feelings associated with specific eating practices, especially habits that. are extreme (too little or too much), can be revealing. We may learn that consumption beyond basic nutritional needs is routinely preceded by unpleasant interpersonal events such as conflict, or negative internal states such as anger, loneliness, and deprivation. Food can come to be used to alter such unpleasant feelings or as a substitute for an unfilled emotional or spiritual need. A particularly common response to emotional deprivation includes filling oneself with food rather than seeking out emo-tional succor from family and friends. In the extreme, this can develop into a form of compulsive overeating. When recognized, emotional or spiritual needs can be addressed more directly-- loneliness, with a call to a friend; agitation, with a walk; bore-dom, with a purpose; shame, with apology and forgiveness. Social Discussion of the elements of eating must include our imme-diate social environment. Human relationships and eating are closely connected; our word companion derives from the Latin "bread with (someone)." Eating alone may be necessary and can be beneficial, but dining is enhanced by good company. Good com-pany is defined not simply by the goodness of the fellow diner, but als0 by the goodness of the relating that is done over the meal. Opening yourself to the other person interacts synergistically with your efforts to open your senses to the food, your mind to your behaviors, and your heart to constructive thoughts and feelings. In his instructions for making the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius of Loyola suggests that solitary retreatants imagine Jesus dining at table with his disciples as a model for their own behavior when they are again eating in the company of other people. Conclusion In this article we have discussed various intellectual insights, behavioral practices, and emotional, cognitive, and social factors Review Jbr Religious that promote healthy eating. We have used the development of a contemplative awareness of eating as a unifying theme for the various specific suggestions. Contemplation is not a practice reserved for extended periods of silence or done only during retreats far from the pace of daily life. It is a practice for every day. One of the most beautiful images of the contemplative grasp of things in everyday life is the holding of a bird within cupped hands. Held too tightly, the bird is crushed; too lightly, it flies away. When this image is applied to eating, the need for strict rules or limits falls away. One is called simply to be present to the eating and to choose consciously. Awareness extends even to being pres-ent to our~inattentiveness. When we do find our-selves eating mindlessly or thinking dichotomously, we should, as Tilden Edwards says, not be quick to judge. Rather, we gently smile, notice what we are doing, pray for help and guidance, and "subtly loosen [our] bonds to inattentive appetite." From Jack Kornfield, psychotherapist and Buddhist teacher, comes another image of the gen-tle persistence required to learn mindfulness: train-ing a puppy. When the puppy inevitably wanders away or becomes distracted, it does little good to yell, scare it, and have it wet the floor. It is much better to lift the puppy gen-tly off the floor and bring it back to the task at hand. Made conscious, the mundane act of eating emerges from the mist of the commonplace and takes on new meanings. Four points will serve to summarize what we have been saying in this article. First, eat intentionally rather than automatically. Slow down. Start with breathing. Bring to the experience images of the mental state you desire. Enter the experience in all its dimensions--sensory, emotional, cognitive, social, and spiritual. Practice sometimes being conscious of each step in eating, even a single bite or swal-low. Follow your arm as you lift the fork, your hand as you grasp the glass. Second, be aware of the many people who contributed to the food before you. Feel gratitude for the growing of the grain, its processing and shipping. Remember those who prepared and served the food that day. Take note of the many events interwoven with this single meal as you look about the table or dining room. Eating alone may be necessary and can be beneficial, but dining is enhanced by good company. ~Tamtaty-Februaly 1996 Duckro ¯ Healthy Eating in a Spiritual Context Consider the miracle of your being able to taste and enjoy, to eat until you are satisfied. Resolve to make this satisfaction possible for more people and to become yourself bread for others. Third, bring to consciousness your thoughts and feelings regarding the food, your hunger, your body. Be sure you really want such thoughts,0and address them directly if they are trou-blesome. Unduly harsh self-criticism or self-deprivation only fur-thers any dysfunctional pattern of eating that might be present. If you feel on the brink of starvation, wait a moment and see whether you really are about to faint. If you find yourself despising your body for any reason, breathe, relax your muscles, and feel your spirit permeating your body. Fourth, whatever you do, do it patiently and lovingly. The alJproach to mindfulness itself must be mindful, with tolerance for the very gradual and sometimes erratic awakening to which human beings ~usually seem prone. (Think of the ambivalent desires you may have experienced as you awake early on some winter morning. Persistent movement in the right general direc-tion is all that counts.) In this way we may find that, like other activities of life, eating can in itself be part of the prayer without ceasing. Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection was a cook for his abbey. He had many opportunities to find God in the prepara-tion, cooking, and serving of food. We might recall him and share his desire to "worship God the oftenest I could, keeping my mind on his holy presence and recalling it as often as I found it wan-dered from him." References Edwards, T. Living Simply through the Day, New York: Paulist Press, 1977. Flinders, C.L. Enduring Grace: Living Portraits of Seven Women Mystics. New York: HarperCollins, 1993. Hanh, T.N. The Miracle of Mindfidness. Beacon, Massachusetts: Beacon Press, 1975. Lawrence of the Resurrection, Brother. The Practice of the Presence of God (D. Attwater, trans.). Springfield, Illinois: Templegate, 1962. ReviewforReligious ANDRI~E FRIES Transformative Leadership: Key to Viability "Now on that same day two of the disciples were going to a village called Emmaus . . . talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus him-self came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, "What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?" (Lk 24:13-17). Jesus is our model for viable religious leadership. The Emmaus story gives us insight into his style of leading. He approaches the disciples with questions and leads them to reflect on and retell their experience. Through further questioning, he assists them in realizing how their expe-rience enfleshes what the prophets foretold. Jesus ulti-mately leads them to recognize God in their midst and sends them with burning hearts to share the good news with others. This article seeks to show how we can pattern our leadership after Jesus on the Emmaus journey, focusing on the importance of leadership to an institute's viability. What is our story of leadership? What is happening to us along the way? What questions does our experience raise? How are we being called to respond, as individuals and as conferences? Andr4e Fries CPPS is general superior of the Sisters of the Most Precious Blood (O'Fallon). As president of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) she made the presen-tation which is the substance of this article at the August 1995 assembly. Her address is 204 North Main Street; O'Fallon, Missouri 63366. leadership ~anuat~-Febrttaty 1996 Fries * Transformative Leadership We, too, have been on the way these days, listening ponder-ing, talking and discussing transformative leadership for the new millennium. Leadership is especially important for us in these times. As leaders we must address the very question of the future viability of our institutes. Since my years of service at the Tri- Conference Retirement Office, I have been intrigued by the ques-tion of what is necessary for a religious institute to be viable. Clearly, financial resources are not the sole determinant of this viability, but what other elements are needed? My reflections cen-ter on an insight highlighted during a November 1994 "Think Tank on the Viability of Religious Institutes" co-sponsored by Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), National Association of Treasurers of Religious Institutes (NATRI), and the Tri-Conference Retirement Office (TCRO). This "Think Tank" used an interdisciplinary approach to explore the question of viability. An interdisciplinary team reflected with the leaders of institutes that had directly addressed institutional viability. The team discovered that the quality of leadership is the single most impor-tant factor in an institute's viability, whether that was a sense of clear direction for the fitture or an increased corporate depression resulting from still unresolved questions of viability. Five cases were presented; in each we saw that the caliber of the leaders significantly impacted the results. If a high quality of leadership is the indispensable key to ongo-ing viability, is the reverse also true? Is weak leadership a pre-dictor that viability will be lost? These are serious, sobering questions, and the stakes are high for the future of our institutes and of religious life. What is Our Story of Leadership? Each of us has lived through a radical redefinition of leader-ship in our religious institutes. A friend of mine recently said, only partly in jest, "I wish I had been provincial in the days when a sister brought the superior tea in the afternoon and ironed her wimple." Even the terminology superior seems jarring today, since our experience of leadership has shifted from a hierarchical to a relational model. As ambiguous as this relational model may be when we are faced with the daily challenges of leadership, the transformation we have experienced in religious leadership is con-sistent with the model Jesus gives us in the Gospels. In the Review for Religious Emmaus story, Jesus leads the disciples out of confusion, despair, and paralysis to zeal for mission, not by lecturing them on what to do, but by asking questions, making connections, and helping them to discover the way in mutual dialogue. This leadership paradigm shift is not unique to religious life. We do not. live in a vacuum. We are called to leadership in a world radically different from that of our founders. We live in the "information age," and in our post modern world more than ever before "information is power." Everyone has access to an overwhelming amount of information. No longer do only the leaders have the infor-mation essential for decision making. As a result leaders of religious institutes are no longer perceived to have superior informa-tion, thus not retaining the credibility to make decisions in isolation from membership and other collaborators in mission. United States culture seems riddled with suspicion and disdain for our elected leaders, This is the age of the talk show: Everyone has an opinion; everyone is an expert; and, there are no taboo subjects. Distrust of leaders is in the very air we breathe. Religious are not exempt from its influence. The plethora of contemporary writing and research on lead-ership is quite consoling. We can learn much from the new insights on leadership, some coming from unlikely sources. For example, Margaret Wheatley in Leadership the New ScienceI applies findings of science, namely quantum mechanics, chaos, and frac-tal theory, to the ambiguity and the complexity of situations which leaders face. Overwhelming amounts of unrelated information produce chaos; however, the relationship of all this information creates a new synergistic energy out of the chaos. Quantum physics posits that relationships, not things, are the basic build-ing blocks of matter. Physicists have discovered that chaos always conforms to a boundary within which information interacts as the primal, creative force. Systems fall apart by design so they can renew themselves according to an invisible organizing pur-pose. The disequilibrium of chaos creates new possibilities for evolutionary growth. God truly does hover over the chaos! Toffler proposes that the information explosion requires a Transformative leadership calls us, as leaders of religious institutes, to be eager learners, inviting our members to learn with us. Januaty-Febtv~aty 1996 Fries * Transformative Leadership well developed intuition in order to cut through the complexity and discover relationships and connections. A leader must not only understand each piece of information but also be able to make the intuitive leap and connect seemingly unrelated infor- ~nation.2 Peter Block believes that the ability to articulate these con-nections clearly is what gives the leader influence and power. Block claims that the balance of power between the leader and the group is the issue.3 Interdependence means that the leader and the group are connected in a way that balances the power between them. Wheatley claims that the power in organizations is the capacity generat.ed by relationships (note 3, p. 38). The leader's task is to share information in a way that provides clarity, highlights connections, and promotes dialogue. Peter Senge in The FiSh Discipline develops the theory of the learning organization. He believes that the key function of lead-ership is to facilitate vision-driven, value-based learning in the . group. "Leaders are responsible for building organizations where people continually expand their capabilities to understand com-plexity, clarify vision, and improve shared mental models--that is, they (leaders) are responsible for learning.''4 Unfortunately few women have written specifically on lead-ership. However, feminist insights provide a model of leadership in which relationships are paramount. In the feminist model, information and power flow in a circular rather than hierarchical motion. Relationships are dynamic and synergistic, respectful and creative, inclusive and purposeful. As Max Dupree writes, "Leadership is an art, something to be learned over time., more a weaving of relationships than an amassing of information.''5 Transformative leadership calls us, as leaders of religious insti-tutes, to be eager learners,0inviting our members to learn with us. The art of leadership is to engage others in the mysterious chaotic dance of the journey, a dance of interdependence and fidelity to God's ongoing call. What Questions Does Our Experience Raise? On the way to Emmaus, Jesus led by asking 'questions, help-ing the disciples to make connections with the scriptures to dis-cover the true meaning of the events they had experienced. What can we learn by relating our questions to our experience Review for Religious and the information available so we lead in a way that fosters transformation and viability? It seems to me that leadership ques-tions are particularly challenging for us in three areas: (1) mean-ing and mission, (2) community and relationships, and (3) leadership and structures. Meaning and Mission I sense in the members of our institutes a profound search for meaning, a sense of dis-ease coming from the feeling of"drift-ing" in these times of incredible change and challenge. Sandra Schneiders IHM wonders if this experience is akin to the dark night of the soul, a dangerous and purificatory process from the known to a radically new experience of God.6 However, there are no easy answers to the essential identity questions--"Who are we?" and "What are we called to do together?" We struggle with a desire to participate in a clear cor-porate mission, yet our members feel called to meet new needs often beyond our present institutional commitments. This uneasi-ness about our corporate mission is especially poignant in the face of our aging membership and dwindling resources. We have no models for leadership in a time of diminishment. We know that we can no longer define ourselves by what we do, by our works. Yet what is the reality that we can grasp and own together, now, as this religious institute? We yearn for a sense of uniqueness, yet we seem to have more diversity within many insti-tutes than among institutes. Our members embody diversity, even pluralism, in basic val-ues and beliefs. The information age and the availability of mul-tiple opportunities for learning have resulted in different ecclesiologies, theologies, styles of worship, and community liv-ing among our members. This is uncomfortable. How can we get our arms around this in a meaningful way? Leaders hfive a respon-sibility to facilitate each individual's vision so together the group can create a corporate vision which inspires a strong sense of cor-porate mission. We need to lead through this diversity. The ultimate test of leadership lies in the ability to address the question of the institute's own viability. The question "Are we dying?" lurks in the heart of many of our members. The uncer-tainty subtly eats away at enthusiasm for mission, even at the esprit de corps of the group. ~anuaty-Febtwaty 1996 Fries ¯ Tran~Cormative Leadership The question of viability is never answered once and for all. The answer we had yesterday is not the answer for .today, and probably wil.l not be the answer in another twenty-five years. However, we are entrusted with leadership today. How can we raise the viability questions of today, questions that revolve around the availability of a future pool of leaders, of a critical mass of members for mission and of sufficient financial resources to sus-tain our needs, assist our'members' personal growth and support our mission? If there is not reasonable hope of identifying future leaders, of responding to real needs in mission, of providing for the sustenance and enrichment of members, our institute may not be viable. How can we lead if the institute is not viable cur-rently or in the immediate future? On the other hand, how can we lead to enhance our viability into the future? Wheatley writes that the only route out of chaos is for lead-ers to give voice and form to the search for meaning (note 3, p. 13 5). Charlotte Roberts believes that leaders must give voice to an organization's emotional tension, anxiety, fear, and frustration, and then shift the attention to vision and core identity.7 1 believe that unless we assume leadership in addressing these questions of meaning and purpose as well as in gaining greater clarity, focus and ownership of our corporate mission, any attempts to address viability will be superficial. Community and Relationships Community life in apostolic institutes is under incredible pressure. No longer do we have the luxury of predictable, similar schedules and horariums. We serve in partnership with laity as professionals in a culture where professionalism is a demanding endeavor. We serve in a world harried by time pressures and, like many families, we rarely have the luxury of a meal together, much less of quality time for prayer and community. Many of our active members are part of the "sandwich generation" with obligations to elder parents as well as to community and ministry. Time is a very scarce resource! The individualism of our culture also challenges us as leaders. It is probably naive to believe that many of us will ever com-pletely escape the strong influence of individualism. It may be more realistic for us as leaders to build on the strengths our mem-bers have developed as a result of individualism. Theoretically, Review for Religious the good of the individual contributes to the good of the whole, creating synergistic energy for both. The challenge comes in bal-ancing these two sometimes competing goods in specific situa-tions. How can we as leaders assist our members to recognize and deal with the "hot buttons" set off when the rubber of indi-vidualism hits the road of communal good? How do we encourage new models of community that realis-tically address these very real situations and promote practical opportunities for authentic community life? Leaders are respon-sible to foster community structures oriented to accountability for values and mission. We must discover new models and sym-bols of community that capture our imagination and transform our energies. Jesus, our model for leadership, transformed the fatigue and distress of the disciples on the way to Emmaus into new energy and eagerness to share with the others in commu-nity. Jesus' example suggests that leaders must constantly search for what enables individuals and groups to reach their potential. Another challenge comes from the movement to offer oth-ers partnership in our spirit and mission. Associate programs and relationships have been a source of life for many institutes in the midst of dwindling vowed membership. However, the purpose of associate programs is not to assuage our sorrow by compensating for our lack of vocations, but rather to share our spirituality and mission with others as a faith community. In our desire to be collaborative, open, and inclusive, we may be blurring the distinction between vowed members and associ-ates. The boundaries of membership seem diffused, even leaky at times. Without clarity of who we are together as vowed mem-bers, it is difficult to define the identity of the associates. We seem to be clear that associates participate with vowed members in spirituality and mission. Tensions arise, however, when some of us believe that associates should participate in our internal forum, having equal access with vowed members to decision making about our lives together without having the same accountability to live the consequences. How can we reclaim a clear sense of corporate identity, meaning, and mission if the very concept of member-ship is fuzzy and uneven? Clearly there are many unanswered questions about the impact of associate programs as we move into the next millen-nium. Perhaps as Margaret Brennan IHM suggests, our associate members are a sign that we are on the verge of discovery of new ]anualy-FebrttaO, 1996 Fries * Tran~lCormative Leadership forms of religious life.8 If we are moving to a new form, let us not drift into the future, but consciously choose to broaden the meaning of membership. Leaders need to raise these membership questions because their implications impact dramatically on meaning, purpose, and mission, and thus on the future of the institute. As Wheatley writes, "A leader's task is to focus on the overall coherence of the organization, which requires one very important thing: genuine attention to the core identity.''9 Leadership and Structures The predominant form of governance in religious institutes today is one of broad participation. We have labored long and hard to design structures that provide for the participation of each member. In our eagerness to provide opportunities for each member to participate in decision making, we have tried all sorts of structures and group processes. This has produced many bless-ings, significant bonding, and a deeper understanding of.issues, but it also is fraught with the danger of overload for both leaders and members. All too often this participation contributes to our being co-opted into a culture of hectic busyness, a culture in which con-templation, ongoing formation and health suffer, and in which burnout is all too common. Participation is a mixed blessing-- but we are learning from our experience. What are we learning? We are being more selective about which issues or questions are best dealt with by the total mem-bership and which are best left to leadership. The process of dif-ferentiating between these two categories is critical. One of the most important moments for group participation is that of choos-ing which issues are so important for the future that an inclusive group process must be developed. There are very many issues competing for our members' energy and attention. The critical choice is: Shall the whole group participate in many decisions and thus risk dealing only on the surface, or go into depth together on a few issues where the questions connect at a deeper level? If the membership reaches consensus on which issues are key for the group participative processes, leadership is freed to address the many other issues facing the institute, Leaders are empowered to lead, to move forward on other issues. It is essential to trans- Review for Religiotts formation, to viability, that leaders actually lead. There is indeed a time for everything under the sun, a time for participating and a time for empowering, a time for consensus building and a time for risking new frontiers. Another challenge in some institutes is to find a pool of persons willing to serve as leaders. Why is this? Some cite tensions in deal-ing with the church as too de-energizing. Others question if lead-ership can be an effective ministry in today's climate of equality and participation that seems to disempower leadership. Leadership may be seen as para-lyzed, fearful to make decisions because of the expectations of the members to be con-suited, or.the complexity of the issues and ambiguity of this time of transformation. Still others withdraw from a leadership nomina-tion fearing that a long absence from their professional life would make reentry into that ministry difficult if not impossible, especially in our culture of ageism and sexism. If having a pool of available leaders is essential for an institute's future viability, we need to face these serious challenges and find ways to encourage and develop future lead-ers. We must witness that leadership is an attractive life-giving ministry rather than a burden to be endured. If we portray leader-ship as a challenging and rewarding~ ministry, we can make a dif-ference in the willingness of others to serve as lea~ters in the future. Another structural question impacting leadership is the grow-ing preference for a team style of leadership with or without a designated team leader. I cannot imagine being in leadership today without a team. We continue to learn that team leadership is an area of great promise and equally great challenge. But tea,n is an ambiguous, concept, and is interpreted in many ways. During a job interview at a Fortune 500 company, a hotshot project man-ager was asked if he was a "team player." "Yes," he replied, "the team captain." l0 Leadership theorists recognize that collaborative relation-ships-- those marked by mutual learning and shared creation-- are at the core of innovation. A team strticture provides an Leaders need to raise membership questions because their implications impact dramatically on meaning, purpose, and mission, and thus on the future of the institute. .]anttat.'!,-Febrt~aD, 1996 Fries ¯ Tran~Cormative Leadership environment in which this learning and creativity can be fos-tered." Because of the time required to build a team, opting.for team leadership may mean delegating some tasks to other staff. In some cases th~se may include relating with sponsored institutions, col-laborating with others, dealing with administrative tasks and pro-viding services for individual members and local communities. For effective delegation, authority must be commensurate with respon-sibility, and accountability clearly defined. Without these clear boundaries, there may be overlap of "turf," "end runs" bypassing staff and appealing directly to leaders. Ultimately this leads to inef-fective administration. Additional staff necessitates the allocation of both financial and human resources from other institute priorities, such as mis-sion and enrichment of members. It is impossible to have "your cake" (the team) and "eat it too." (conserve the resources), To attempt to do both will totally frustrate team members with impossible expectations and responsibility overload. For most institutes, balancing the value of a team approach with other pri-orities is a challenging issue. Members wonder why it takes so many more persons to administer what fewer did with larger membership. Another issue in the team model is that roles and thus respon-sibility can be unclear. Sometimes we are tempted to posit that all team roles are equal in leadership responsibility and in ultimate accountability. This raises the question if there is value added by having a designated team leader? Surely each team member shares leadership.'It is not an either/or question of either have a team or have a designated leader. In my experience, having both opens the possibility of a more effective creative team leadership. Doris Gottemoeller referencing St. Paul (Ga 3:27-28, 1 Co 12:4-11), calls us "to hold in perennial tension two poles: equal-ity and diversity, or unity and distinctiveness of function or roles."'2 Mary Catherine Bateson writes "the ethical impulse of American culture is toward symmetry., asserting that a given kind of difference (of roles) is, or should be, irrelevant. When we call symmetry equality, it is both our best and our worst.pas, sion." ,3 Richness and newness come from the synergistic interplay of the symmetrical and asymmetrical, from diversity and differ-entiation in gifts and roles, from the leadership exercised by a team with distinct but complementary roles. Review for Religiolts Peter Block concludes that the key issue is how the desig-nated leader chooses to relate to the team (note 5, p. 31). An effective team uses a collaborative style with consensus decision making. The leader does not centralize the power or the point of action. In the feminine image of the circle, the wheel moves around a hub to keep the rim from flying off in all directions. Analogously, I believe the designated leader has an added dimen-sion of responsibility to provide a safe environment for the whole team to "create visions; where inquiry and commitment to truth are the norm and challenging the status quo is expected.''~4 The team leader keeps diverse energies connected, unified, and mov-ing in the same direction. Yet the momentum comes from within the whole team. Another rationale for designating a team leader is that our publics perceive the designated leader as the one who is ulti-mately responsible. "The buck stops here," as we say in Missouri. Given the reality of public accountability for the group's action, must the leader always do the will of the group, be that the con-sensus of the team or of the membership? This is a difficult issue, but one that touches on the integrity of the leader and of the team and the delicate balance of the value of communio with the prophetic. How Are We Being Called To Respond. As Individual Leaders By now, I'm sure that you are quite aware that transformative leadership is an impossible responsibility unless we realize this is not our work, but God's. A leader today must be above all a per-son of spiritual intensity. Jerry Brown's reflections address the qualities and skills as well as the. personal supports needed by spiritual leaders. (see pp. 34-35 in this issue). I can attest from my own experience that leadership is impossible without God's grace. The grace of office still exists, perhaps not in the form we once learned. I experience the grace of office as the spurt of stamina that comes when I feel that I can't take or do one more thing, the courage to act in the face of fear or opposition, the surprising words that come out of my mouth in a complex situa-tion, the strength to persevere in the dying of the paschal mystery with hope for the resurrection, Fries ¯ Transformative Leadership A leader is challenged: 1) to be a learner, a person centered enough to listen, to hear, to read, to ponder, to dream, to make connections, to dialogue, to change, to hold fast; 2) to be a,communicator, clearly conveying a sense of mean-ingfulness, connecting the present with the past and future, and building enthusiasm for ,blazing new trails; 3) to be a unifier, a symphony conductor who artistically draws forth the music of each person, blends the tones, keeps the rhythm and orchestrates the crescendos and diminuendos; 4) to lead, making decisions that courageously balance the purpose of the institute with the good of the individual member, all for the sake of mission; a leader takes risks'and keeps asking the deeper questions; 5) to he enthusiastic about the ministry of leadership dur-ing this time of transformation so as to encourage others to be available for l.eadership; 6) to do as Jesus did on the way to Emmaus, be visible, sup-porting, listening~ questioning, exploring implications, shar-ing information, making~connections and breaking bread with companions on the journey. As Leadership Conferences In addition to what we can do as individual leaders, what can we ask of our conferences? I suggest three Practical directions, and invite you to add your own wisdom.' I challenge our conferences to: 1) create a program and process to mentor leaders, 2) aid leaders in dealing with the issue of viability, 3) assist in developihg a pool of future leaders for religious institutes. Summary and Conclusion I pray that our sharing will continue to "open our eyes," so we may recognize Jesus' continuing presence in us, with us. With our hearts burning within us, let us go forward with enthusiasm to proclaim "Jesus is truly risen and is among us." Notes 1 See Margaret J. Wheatley, Leadership and the New Science: Learning About Organizations from an Orderly Universe, (New York: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, Inc., 1994), p. xi and Chapter One. Review for Religious ~ Alvin Toffler, Power Shift: Knowledge, Wealth, and Violence at the Edge of the~ 21st Century, (New York: Bantam Doubleday, Dell Publishing Group, 1990), pp. 175, 178, 195. 3 Peter Block, Stewardship: Choosing Service Over Self-Interest, (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishing, Inc., 1993). 4 Peter Senge, The Fifth Discipline: The Art and Practice oft& Learning Organization, (New York: Bantam Doubleday, Dell Publishing Group, Inc., 1990), especially Chapters 1, 9-12. s Max Dupree,.Leadersbip is an Art, (New York: Dell Publishing, 1989), p. 3. 6 Cassian Yuhaus CP, editor, The Challenge for Tomorrow's Religious Life, (New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1994), p. 12. 7 Charlotte Roberts, "Building a Learning Community," a workshop held 23 June 1995 based on The Fifth Discipline Field Book, (New York: Bansta Mm aDrgoaurbelte'd Bayre, nDnealln P IuHbMlis,h "inAg WGrhoiutep ,L Iingch.,t 1a9n9d4 S).till Moving": Religious Life at the Crossroads of the Future" from The Challenge for Tomorrow's Religious Life, p. 103. 9. Margaret J. Wheatley, "Quantum Management," Working Women Magazine, October, 1994. ~0 Michael Schrage, "Manager's Journal," Wall Street Journal, 19 June 1995. ~ Peter Senge, note 6 in Leadership and the New Science. ~2 Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "A Vision for the Church of 2010," Address given at Heronbrook House, England, May, 1995. Available in Origins (USCC, Washington, D.C.), Vol. 25, no. 9, pp. 149-152). ~3 Mary Catherine Bateson, Composing a Life, (New York: Penguin Group, 1990), Chapter 6. 14 Peter Senge, in Stewardship: Choosing Service over Self-hlterest, note 5, p. 172. Plain Speech and Mystic Grammar I tend to small things, through you, with you, in you, and look for small things by and from and of you. The small, small things. Prepositions are my best words, sheer relation. Michele Cruvant Janua~y-FebrnaO, 1996 GERALD L. BROWN The Call To Spiritual Leaders: Beacons of Hope Tcvisionary theologian, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini, hbishop of Milan, recently noted that religious leaders have to face three types of problems, "internal problems, external problems, and transcendent problems or transcendent questions." By internalproblems Cardinal Martini means struggles we face daily within our own organizations, such as attracting vocations, setting priorities, constructing strategic plans or handling con-flicts in community. Religious leaders will find their own way of overcoming or mastering these problems. However, much more important is that, when dealing with these internal problems, we need to "give space to the second and third type of problems." Externalproblems are "the great issues common to all human-ity." Cardinal Martini mentions war and peace, violence among peoples and groups, defense of human life, sickness and hunger, the great immigrations, problems of ecology, and tensions in soci-ety between social or ethnic groups. He urges us to approach pressing external problems as religious leaders, as men and women of faith, "grtunded in God's revelation." We are not called to be politicians, government leaders, lobbyists, or social engineers. However, Martini insists that transcendent problems are "our real and main concern" as religious leaders. He means: the main themes of all religions: God, salvation, prayer, adoration, faith, and hope, forgiveness, life after death, justice, charity., every other question, no matter how Gerald L. Brown SS, provincial of the Society of the Priests of Saint Sulpice, presented the reflections in this article as the president of the Conference of Major Superior of Men (CMSM) at the August 1995 assembly. His address is 5408 Roland Avenue; Baltimore, Maryland 21210. Review for Religious important it might look, depends ultimately on these tran-scendent questions and themes. Inevitably, we must deal with internal issues and confront external problems in secular society. But, above all, we must be concerned with the transcendent questions and themes which "all people need to face." They belong to the essence of being men and women in this world, even if some secular societies place some restraint on publicly discussing them. Last year, my presidential address kicked off a national campaign, the "Shalom Strategy," a project which is part of a larger campaign to promote human rights. I dealt with one of today's most painful and frightening external prob-lems, the violence we all experience in the homes, streets, and institutions of our society. Of course, the problem of vio-lence is also internal. Our own commu-nities have room to grow in mutual respect and tolerance. In calling the Conference to action, I appealed to a survey of our members that showed our desire to network when tack-ling complex and urgent social problems. We cannot operate alone or in a vacuum--the stakes are too high, the issues too complex. This sense of realism matched the sobering message of Nygren and Ukeritis that consecrated life will not survive as a social insti-tution in the church unless we address certain unmet human needs corporately and collectively and learn how to move beyond the necessary maintenance of our communities to the corporate mis-sion of transformation within society. However, if our efforts as a Conference are paying off, (and they are; we are moving, and we are learning), it is because, on the deepest level, we are addressing what Cardinal Martini calls "tran-scendent problems," in this case, the hunger for inner peace and communal harmony, the need for dignity, respect, and a place in building God's reign and, above all, the yearning to know, on every human and institutional level, God's all-embracing love. Indeed, before all else, in our campaign for human rights and for a peaceful world, we are touching the deepest longings of the I want to talk about a spirituality for the religious leader, a way of life that enables us to hold in creative tension the internal, the external, and the transcendent. Jantlat.3,-l:ebt'ttat~y 1996 Brown ¯ The Call to Spiritual Leaders human heart. In countless and measurable ways, the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) does the same. Building on Cardinal Martini's provocative insights and on our combined efforts as Conferences, I want to take a step further, to talk about a spirituality for the religious leader, a way of life that enables us to hold in creative tension the internal, the external, and the transcendent, a way that can fuel our corporate and col-lective efforts at social transformation. I will move through two stages: (1) What spiritual qualities and skills are needed in today's religious leaders, and (2) How are these qualities and skills developed and nurtured? Another way.of putting these two questions might be: What kind of person do w~e want to be, and how do we pull it off?. I. Qualities and Skills for Spiritual Leadership There are five signs of an authentically spiritual leader. Such a personis vitally aware, relational in vision and style, honest and principled, able to live comfortably with tensions and obviously in love with God in the Spirit of Christ Jesus. I draw from the Nygre~n/Ukeritis study on outstanding leaders, from books and articles on spirituality, leadership, and spiritual leaders and from my own experience as a :leader who learns from other leaders. Before I begin, let me offer a caution. None of us will do equally well all that I suggest. Listen to my remarks with human, compassionate ears and take what I say as ideals towards which we all must strive. The inspiring leaders I know are persons with heightened awareness. They see and hear more. They notice more keenly than others the needs and motives of the groups they lead and are more open to the graces of people they serve. They read the signs of the times objectively and with empathy, what Wordsworth calls seeing '~into the life of things." Moreover, these leaders tend to see God everywhere, "in the living geometry of a flower, a seashell, an animal . . . in the love and gentleness, the confidence and humility, which give beauty to the relationships between human beings" (Aldous Huxley). They see God in noise and quiet, in light and dark, in the poetic and the mundane, in the giggles of children at play, in the silent stares of Review for Religiom" the homeless begging in the streets or in the dulled eyes of func-tionaries aimlessly on the move. Above all, they sense the God who dwells and speaks within. These leaders are vitally aware persons in touch with "the deep heart's core," to use the words of Yeats. As a result, they influence others more through their being than through their accomplishments. ¼re all know people like this. Relational Vision and Style This fine-tuned awareness helps spiritual leaders see them-selves as connected. On the level of vision, they live in the present, shaped by the past, poised for the future. They know it takes a vil-lage to raise a child and that we are mysteriously one with our brothers and sisters in other religions, cultures, and places respon-sible for our sacred earth and for all living creatures and things. An old Mayan saying hints at the connectedness of all reality: When the people are happy God is happy, and the trees begin to sing. On the level of style, they are compassionate, nonjudgmental, and accepting. They acknowledge their own limitations and give others the benefit of the doubt. They are approachable, yet do not allow the personal crises of individuals to keep them from their primary task as leaders. They are collaborative in manner, working to arouse consensus toward common vision and mission, in the process learning how to lead from those who are led. These leaders are.loyal members of a church they recognize and accept as both holy and flawed, sinful yet redeemed. They seek alliance with those individuals in the church and in broader society who are committed to personal and social transformation. Courageous Integrity Aware and connected, the most effective transformational leaders live their ministry with courageous integrity. I have come to admire immensely those men and women who are forthright and honorable in speech and in action without alienating or los-ing the respect of others. This is not easy in a pluralistic church with competing theologies and spiritualities or in groups that have become too diffuse, needing to be challenged to a renewed sense of corporate mission or to a dignified acceptance of dimin-ishment unto death. Brown ¯ The Call to Spiritual Leaders William Butler Yeats said, "The real leader serves truth, not people." I am not sure we need to set apart people and truth in this way, but I see the point he is making. There is today the ten-dency to keep quiet when we should speak out or to move impul-sively without serious research or thinking through the consequences. Temptations to please the group at all costs or to rush to closure on issues needing more time are clear and present dangers in times of polarization and complexity. Succumbing to either temptation does violence to truth. Courageous leaders with integrity know when to be quiet and to listen and when to share honestly and with love what they believe is best for the good of the whole. They neither lose their souls out of fear, nor fight battles that do not need to be fought. They serve both people and truth. In the language of Paul, they feel called to serve Christ first and Christ living in his people. Living Comfortably with Tensions Aware, connected, and courageous, the transformational leader also knows how to live comfortably in an "age of tensions." The theologian and diocesan priest James Bacik calls for a "dialectical spirituality" that understands the tensions of our age and makes them fruitful. He gives a few examples of dialectical tensions that touch the lives of contemporary religious leaders: Christianity and human developme.nt, the Gospel and culture, the cross and flag, individualism and small group movements, the traditional and the new, fixity and change. We need not collapse the tension between these contrasted pairs. They can all coexist and enrich each other. As Christians who live the dying and the rising of the paschal mystery, we should be more comfortable than most with paradox and complementarity. Madeleine L'Engle wisely and whimsically made the point: "We cannot seem to escape paradox; I do not think I want to." In my judgment, we need, more than ever, leaders who see the both/and dimensions of life and negotiate com.fortably with social, political, and theological dichotomies, leaders who live what Bacik calls the "dialectical virtues." Leaders must be, at the same time, committed and open, reflective and spontaneous, enlightened and simple, hopeful and realistic. Leaders need to hold in creative ten-sion the mystical and the prophetic, the individual and the com-munal, the universal and the particular. Virtue lies not in a balanced middle which does not exist, but in creative interpenetration. Review for Religious Spiritual leaders who live such dialectical virtues hear God speaking in many languages. They experience God in peace and in pain. They learn from negative as well as positive experience. They live with all sides of their personalities, including the dark, and, in it all, know that God protects the world. Love of God in the Spirit of Christ Jesus This brings me to the final mark of the transformational leader. The most effective religious leaders are aware, connected, courageous, and sophisticated. But, even more, they are men and women in love with God and not afraid to show it. They experience God in their ministry, and they can talk about it. In their inner being, they feel called by Christ to leadership and try to lead as he would lead, in justice and in truth, with compassion, humility, and love. With Jesus, they seek holy wisdom and listen for the prompting of the Spirit. In my address at the Synod on Consecrated Life, I ~poke about the need for spiritual intensity, for men and women, especially leaders, who are on fire with God's transforming love, who live dynamically in the spirit of the founding impulse and who communicate an enthusiasm that is contagious. To~vard the end of the Synod, we all listened in respectful awe to brief remarks by one of today's saints, Brother Roger of Taize. He lived what I have described. Speaking with eloquent simplicity about our world's need for reconciliation, his inner self radiated holiness and inspired at least one person to greater efforts for world peace and forgiveness. He spoke with a faith illuminated and a hope empowered by the resurrection of the crucified one. In summary, the transformational leader is aware, relational, courageous, comfortable with inevitable tensions, and on fire with God. This person tends not to neglect the transcendent when deal-ing with internal and external problems and is more likely than the typical leader to work with others for social transformation. The most effective religious leaders are men and women in love with God and not afraid to show it. II. Supports for Spiritual Leadership Now, acknowledging that we are all on the journey, none of Brown ¯ The Call to Spiritual Leaders us perfect, all of us from time to time overwhelmed and exhausted, we explore ways of feeding and supporting such a leader. Nygren and Ukeritis point out that the typical leader can become out-standing. We can help ourselves and be helped by others. A bishop I know says that many diocesan priests are on the verge of great-ness and never make it. They are not alone. What can move us towards greatness? There are six ways of keeping ourselves alert, connected, at peace with ourselves and our world, centered with integrity and alive to God, or at least moving in the right direction. These six ways all take time. We need to make time for reading, for new experience, for friendships, for prayer and contemplation, for spiritual direction and mentoring, and for support from our peers. Reading We need to read. Reading helps us to be more aware of our world, more connected to the sufferings of people, more alert to truth, more alive. As provincial and president of CMSM, I feel obligated to keep abreast of current affairs through newspapers and journals. As a voice for my community and for the wider church, I feel chal-lenged to keep up with recent church teaching and new currents of theological thought. As a pastoral leader, I am attracted to books on church life and ministry, on spirituality and on leader-ship. As a human person, I make time for novels, poetry, and other experiences of human creativity. When I do not have sufficient time to keep up with one or another of these areas through reading, I contact trusted col-leagues and friends who do have time and who are willing to engage in conversation. New Experience From time to time, moreover, we leaders need to risk new experience. We need to create new road maps in order to walk new paths. For example, we know that the best way to learn about incul-turation is to make ourselves fully vulnerable to the gifts and lim-its of another culture. By analogy, we can say the same thing about almost every issue of great importance, such as poverty, mental ill-ness and violence in our streets, or community living and pastoral planning. The best way to learn is to risk being open, to stretch ourselves, to get our hands dirty. To use another example, why not Review for Religious measure our own vision, programs, and methods by entering, touching, and learning from the experience of other communities and leaders? If the unexamined life is not worth living, it is also true to say that the unlived life is not worth examining. Friendships We also need to make room for those who choose to love us. One of the greatest dangers for religious leaders is to lose contact with close friends. Sadly, friends are often the first to be forgot-ten when setting calendars. We need to ink them in, for they are our lifeline, our refuge, our source of love and support. Truly good friends keep us honest. They are willing to lay down their lives for us, and they call forth from us an equal response. Making friends a priority can be a great challenge for many of us even if we do manage to make time. How do we confront close friends in community? How do we initiate new friendships out-side the community without the venue of hands-on ministry? How do we keep connected and in balance the many relation-ships in our lives? Facing these challenges head-on and creatively is worth the effort. Without healthy friendship, we wither and die. Prayer and Contemplation Above all, we need to build in time for prayer. I am most cen-tered and at peace as a leader when I make time every day for personal, private prayer, especially contemplation. When I do, I am generally more effective as a leader, listening in a more relaxed, focused way, keeping my priorities straight, not easily thrown off balance by crisis. I feel more connected to my brothers and sisters throughout the world, all loved by the same God, and see social situations as Christ might see them. In the process, I come to realize what Merton describes: "We can find ourselves engulfed in such happiness that it cannot be explained: the happiness of being at one with everything in that hidden ground of Love for which there can be no explanations." In a wonderful way, everything becomes prayer. At times I cannot pray contemplatively or my prayer fails miserably. No matter. No need for guilt. God is present even in the market-place of my busyness and in my failures. In these inevitable times, I can make my heart available to God as I work privately or inter-act with others or struggle helplessly. As Bernanos's country priest Brown ¯ The Call to Spiritual Leaders wrote in his diary at the end of a conflicted, but fruitful life, "Tout est grfice." Everything is grace. True spiritual guides are a treasure beyond price. We need to search and to find. Spiritual Directions and Mentoring Of course, in all this, it is easy to deceive ourselves as leaders. Frequently, we need spiritual companions who can help keep us honest about our motivations, our ambitions, our fears, and our drives. We need to be clear about the direction of our lives. What do we truly want for our-selves and for our com~nunity? What is God's will for us? How do we discern the difference between God's voice and competing voices? Where is God truly speaking and through whom and what? True spiritual guides are a treasure beyond price. We need to search and to find. We can also be helped in our daunting task of leadership by more experienced mentors who have gained the competencies and skills we ourselves want to develop. Mentors can review with us our personal goals as leaders, our modus operandi, and the systems that support or fail to support our ministry, and they can point us to the right workshop, book, or consultant. In a sense, what Ernest Hemingway had to say about writers can be applied to religious leaders: "We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master." Even the most gifted men-tor would admit there is still much to learn. Support from Peers Finally, there is a related topic which in my opinion has greater significance than ever. I enjoy thoroughly those moments in regional meetings when we leaders sit down to share our sto-ries with each other, to pray with and for each other, and to know that we are understood. However, these sporadic occasions of grace are not grace enough. A few years ago in Baltimore, several religious leaders, both men and women, met twice at my home to set up a support group in the style ofJesu Caritas. For many reasons, mainly schedule con-flicts, we did not follow through. I have always regretted this. We leaders need the spiritual support of each other. Only another leader can counter the narcissistic verse, "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen," and transform it into the spiritual from which it arises. Review for Religious If this presidential address were to stimulate a new campaign, I would push for promoting support groups among religious leaders in every region of our country. We have so much to learn from each other. We can be the face of God to each other. Salt and Light Two metaphors from scripture summarize this article. They are salt and light. Transformational leaders are called to give zest and flavor to the work they do and the people they meet, to improve the quality of human existence and to help preserve it from d~cay, to be active in the world as transforming agents of grace. Therefore, they cannot lose their saltiness. They need to keep alive and help others to keep alive. Leaders are also called to bring light to every dark corner of human living, to be the torch that brightens gloomy hearts, that leads the way out of confusion, that reveals people to each other. And they are called to pass on the flame to another generation. In June, during the meeting of the Bishops' Conference, Eugene Kennedy wrote an eloquent tribute to Cardinal Joseph Bernardin who lay in the hospital recuperating from operations for cancer. With the announcement of his illness, darkness shrouded this city like a noon eclipse. In that moment, however, light, unfiltered by ceremony or great event, came from within Bernardin himself. By it, we can see him, ourselves and what counts in life with the clarity of revelation. Bernardin "has never been afraid of the dark and, in his company, neither are we." What religious leader would not want to be this kind of light, the light of Christ to the world, a beacon of hope in a dark and wounded world? Though we feel inadequate in the face of such a challenge, we need not fear, for Christ has chosen us to be spir-itual leaders for our times. We need only to surrender ourselves to mystery. I will end with one quote from Dorothy Day and another from Teilhard de Chardin, two heroes of the modern age who probed internal, external, and transcendent problems with a vision that provoked social transformation. Dorothy Day's words help us to tie together our struggles for peace, for light, for life: If our cause is a mighty one, and surely peace on earth in these days is the great issue of the day, and if we are oppos- ~anuaty-Febrttat.3, 1996 Brown ¯ The Call to Spiritual Leaders ing the powers of darkness, of nothingness, of destruction, and we are working on the side of lig.ht and life, then surely we must use our greatest weapons--the life forces that are in each one of us. To stand on the side of life we must give up our own lives. Finally, Teilhard de Chardin evokes the ultimate purpose of all leadership: The day will come when, after harnessing space, the tides, and gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And on that day, for the second time in the history of the world, we shall have discovered fire. Resources Conversations with colleagues and friends helped ,most to shape and to clarifi! my thinking. The following books and articles were some of the works which created an environment for reflecting more deeply upon my own experience as a religious leader. Bacik, James J. The Gracious Mystery: Finding God in Ordinary Experience. Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger Press, 1987. Beckett, Wendy Mary. "Simple Prayer." The Clergy Review (February, 1978): 1-3. Calonius, Erik. "Take Me to Your Leader." Hemisphere, (April, 1995): 39- 42. Carozzo, Carlo. "Mysticism and the Crisis of Religious Institutions." Concilium, (April, 1994): 17-26. Champlin, Joseph M. with Champlin, Charles D. The Visionary Leader: How Anyone Can Learn to Lead Better. New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1993. Ciorra, Anthony J. Everyday Mysticism: Cherishing the Holy. New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1995. Conference of Major Superiors of Men. "1993 Survey of Membership: Executive Summary:' November, 1993. Gardner, John W. On Leadership. New York: The Free Press, 1990. Instrumentum Laboris. "The Consecrated Life and its Role in the Church and in the World." Vatican City, 1994. Judson, Sylvia Shaw. The Quiet Eye: A Way of Looking at Pictures. Washington: Regner~ Gateway, renewed, 1982. Kennedy, Eugene. "Bernardin Still a Beacon for Community." Chicago Tribune, Section 4, "Perspective," 18June 1995, pp. 1, 4. Kurtz, Ernest, and Ketcham, Katherine. The Spirituality of Imperfection: Storytelling and the Journey to Wholeness. New York: Bantam Books, 1994, paperback edition. Review for Religious Martini, Cardinal Carlo Maria. "Hope and Religious Leadership in a Secular Society." Chicago Studies, Vol. 33, no. 2 aAugust, 1994): 132-137. McGrory, Brian. "Chicago Cardinal Faces Illness with Serenity." The Boston Globe, 3 July 1995, pp. 1, 5. Nouwen, Henri J.M. Here and Now: Living in the Spirit. New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1994. Nygren, David J. and Ukeritis, Miriam D. The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment. Westport: Praeger Publishers, 1993. Oliva SJ, Max. Free to Pray/Free to Love: Growing in Prayer and Compassion. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1994. Sanks, T. Howland. Salt, Leaven, and Light: The Community Called Church. New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1992. Sofield ST, Loughlan and Kuhn, Donald H. The Collaborative Leader: Listening to the Wisdom of God's People. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1995. Taylor, Charles. The Ethics of Authenticity. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1991. Wallis, Jim. The Soul of Politics. New York and Maryknolh The New Press and Orbis Books~ 1994. Wicks, Robert J., editor. Handbook of Spirituality for Ministers.New York: Paulist Press, 1995. A Wreath of Queens Sainted, in sparklets of bright stained glass, Their heads are wreathed in royal jewels: Meek Elizabeth, child Princess Of Hungary; staunch Margaret who rules Britain's unruly Scots; and mother of Constantine, The Empress Helena; jewel-ringed hands Wreathe in sisterhood the Byzantine, Celt, and Slav; their countries turned holy lands Under their godly reigns, God's people fed And clothed, God's earthly kingdom spread In the light that wreathes each queenly head. Nancy G. Westerfield Janualy-FebJwaO, 1996 JAMES H. KROEGER Bridging Interreligious Dialogue and Conversion ecumenism Mission theology today is greatly enriched by the field experiences of dedicated missioners. A personal experi-ence helped shape my views of conversion, mission, and interreligious dialogue. During the Lenten season of 1990 while I was a vis-iting professor in Dhaka, Bangladesh, I had a "graced moment," a "defining experience" in my missionary aware-ness and perspective. It has remained seared in my con-sciousness and has forced me to ask many foundational questions about mission and my own commitment. It involves a Bangladeshi beggar woman. I saw her on the road, in front of the large walled compound of a wealthy family dwelling. I could not clearly see her face because she was several hundred feet ahead of me. Her tattered clothes covered a malnourished body; she was alone, although other beggars were walking ahead of her on the road. I was proceeding along the same .path, leisurely taking a late afternoon walk. Suddenly a luxury car approached with its horn blow-ing. The driver probably wanted the beggars to disperse and also wanted the gate of the compound ope.ned by the servants. The woman appeared startled as the car turned James H. Kroeger MM worked as a field missionary in the Philippines arid Bangladesh for over two decades. Currently, he serves as the Asia-Pacific Area Assistant on the Maryknoll General Council. His most recent book is Living Mission (Orbis Books). He may be addressed at EO. Box 303; Maryknoll, New York 10545-0303. Review for Religious sharply in front of her and the gate swung open. Within seconds two large dogs emerged from the compound and jumped at the woman, knocking her to the ground. She screamed and cried both from fear and the pain caused by the dogs nipping at her. I stood frozen, horrified at the sight. A well dressed woman promptly emerged from the chauffeur-driven car. She ordered the driver to bring the car into the com-pound; the dogs were called to return inside; the servants were commanded to close and lock the gate. And, the beggar woman? She was left alone on the ground--outside the gate (see Heb 13:12). I stood helpless, gazing at this appalling scene. Only the other frightened beggars came to the aid of the woman. Only they showed mercy and compassion. I stood at a distance and wept at this scene of crucifixion. I admitted to being a guilty bystander. My fears and inadequacies had left me para-lyzed. I had not one taka coin in my pocket to give; I could not offer one word of consolation in the Bangla language which I did not speak. I did not approach the woman for fear of misinterpre-tation that a foreign man would touch a Bengali woman in pub-lic in this strictly Islamic culture. I simply wept in solidarity. I wept long and hard. In succeeding years, I have frequently returned to that scene and prayed to God: "Do not let me forget that experience. Allow it to shape my life and mission vision. Permit it to remain a 'defin-ing moment' in understanding my mission vocation. May it enrich my insights into the nature of mission and the place of dialogue and conversion within the church's missionary activity." Embracing a Broken World My experience on the road in Dhaka, Bangladesh with the beg-gar- woman no longer allows me to view people as faceless victims. All Christians, especially missionaries, are called to embrace the world's suffering humanity, to recognize the existence of crucified peoples, and to strive to take them down from the cross. The suffering inherent in human existence necessarily impacts the situation of mission. The traditional dialogue partner of mis-sioners has been the follower of another living faith; while this engagement remains true today, particular attention is focused on humanity's concrete experience and suffering. All human life has a paschal configuration; its pattern con- Janua~y-Febrmny 1996 Kroeger ¯ Bridging Interreligious Dialogue and Conversion Missionaries seek the conversion of people they encounter. tinually moves through death to renewed life. Life's paschal paradigm (universally shared by all people, although varying ter-minology may be used) sees people struggling to move through darkness to light, through captivity to freedom, through suffering and brokenness to wholeness.Paschal dimensions are characteristic of all life situations; contemporary mis-sion and dialogue find their point of insertion in human-ity's experience of life and death realities. Catholic theology asserts that the .Spirit of God is present and aetive within the lives of all peoples. The Second Vatican Council forcefully stated that as Christian believers, "we must hold that the Holy Spirit offers to all the possibility of being made partners, in a way known to God, in the paschal mystery" (GS §22). This quote is used three times in the mission encyclical Redemptoris missio (RM §§6,d0, 28). John Paul II uses the phrase repeatedly in his writings; it is probably one of his guiding missiological principles. This text affirms the action of the Holy Spirit in the hearts of all people. The universal work of the Spirit serves to enlighten people's experience of their paschal realities of dying and rising; life itself, including suffering, has the possibility of opening all peoples to experience God's salvation through the paschal mystery. Note that the text declares unambiguously that there is only one way which leads to everlasting salvation, a way which is valid for Christians as well as other believers, and that is association with the paschal mystery. The redemptive grace of Christ is avail-able for all who in thei~ own way and even without knowing it obey the law of the paschal mystery and take it as a guiding norm for their consciences and lives. This astonishing assertion has important consequences for the dialogue and conversion that con-temporary mission pursues. Christian faith is, at heart, a paschal faith. Thus, if all reality has a paschal paradig'~n and if all life is shaped by rhythms of life through death, then Christian mission will continually find ele-ments of this very mystery hidden in the lives, cultures, histories, and religions of peoples of diverse faiths. Missioners repeatedly experience the unique ways that the Holy Spirit brings people into direct encounter with the paschal mystery and with God's salvation in Christ. The cross of Jesu's is the paramount Christian symbol, because Review for Religious it reminds Christians of the centrality of the paschal mystery in their faith lives. All church missionary activity will focus on the paschal nature of life, of faith, of salvation. Mission is always cru-ciform, always signed by the cross. Crux probat omnia. Naming Conversion in a Perspective of Dialogue The literature on diverse elements of the conversion process is extensive. This article, however, focuses primarily on the the-ological dimensions of conversion, viewing conversion as that ongoing transformation of persons by the power of God, specif-ically through the action of the Holy Spirit. Missionaries seek the conversion of people they encounter. Conversion demands a radical shift in a person's apprehensions and values, accompanied by a similar radical change in oneself, in one's relations with other persons, and in one's relations to God. Such a total transformation is nothing less than the work of God's grace and the action 6f the Holy Spirit: At the center o(this con-version and transformation is a personal, loving God; all becomes focused on God's love poured out in the person of Jesus through the paschal mystery. The paschal mystery becomes the integrating focus of all evangelization, dialogue, and conversion. It is foundational because all life has a paschal paradigm. The passion of human experience is to be the ground in which .the. seeds of new life, hope, resurrection, and ultimately salvation germinate and bear fruit. This paschal nature of all life and' experience (poignantly illustrated by my personal experience with the Bangladeshi beg-gar- woman) cofitinually provides openings for a deep :missionary encounter, authentic dialogue and conversion, find fruitful trans-o formation into the mystery of God's love. Levels of Missionary Conversion Mission experience reveals three interacting levels of con-version int6 the paschal myg~ery. The first conversion is centered on the person of the missionary. The second is a call to all persons of faith and good will to embrace a paschal perspective in their lives and consciences. Final!y, the third conversion takes the form of an invitation for people to freely join the paschal community of the Christian church. ffanuaty-Februaty 1996 Kroeger ¯ Bridging Inter'religious Dialogne and Conversion I. Conversion of the Missionary. Christian missionaries begin the conversion process in their own lives and attitudes. They seek to personalize the fact that, in the words of John Paul II, "the church~s vocation and missionary commitment spring from the central mystery of our faith: the paschal mystery" (WYD 1993:2). They embrace the fact: "The paschal mystery of Christ's cross and Resurrection stands at the center of the Good News that the apostles, and the church following them, are to proclaim to the world" (Catechism 1994:571). Evangelizers accept that every missionary begins by entering a personal process of conversion (EN § 15). Before crossing any bor-ders of culture or religion to announce the paschal mystery, mis-sionaries seek their own transformation into the same paschal mindset of Jesus (1 Co 2:16; Ph 2:5). To the extent that any mis-sionary embodies the suffering Messiah's self-transcending way of the cross, that person achieves authentic paschal conversion. Paschality becomes the measuring ~od for all missionary endeavors. H. Conversion to a Paschal VVorldview. From the paschal per-spective operative in their own lives, Christian missionaries and all peoples of faith soon recognize the paschal communalities of their shared existence. All peoples--whether Christian, Buddhist or Muslim--share,the vicissitudes and challenges of existence in a broken world. It is precisely within this shared human existence and mystery that the Christian missionary announces paschal per-spectives of life through death. The missionary is definitely invit-ing his or her dialogue partners to a deeper God-experience. This is a true spiritual conversion, but not necessarily conversion to Christianity. Such a heart-to-heart encounter is a direct effect of the Holy Spirit's action in bringing peoples through their own life situations into a sharing of the paschal mystery. The fundamental act of faith and conversion is within reach of all human beings. They can encounter God in the paschal mystery. For the Christian it will be explicitly Christological. However, the identical experience, although often in an inchoate and unarticulated form, is contin-ually available to all peoples whatever their particular religious affiliation. It is important to note that as Christian missionaries we will often find.our own explicit paschal faith enriched by the implicit paschal faith of our Muslim or Buddhist friend. IlL Conversion to the Cb~istian Faith Community. All persons are called to conversion to God. In the course of this process a free Review Jbr Religious decision may be made to leave one's previous spiritual or reli-gious situation to direct oneself towards another. In this conver-sion process, freedom of conscience is sovereign. Admittedly, mission also has explicit Christian conversion as its goal. Christians nourish in their hearts the clear desire to share their full experience of the paschal mystery and faith in Christ with brothers and sisters of other religions. Missionaries sensitively aim at guiding peo-ple to explicit knowledge of what God has done for all men and women in Jesus Christ and at inviting them to become disciples of Jesus through becoming members of the church. Note the triple dynamic of conversion operative in this missionary process: 1.) the converted missionary centers his or her life on the paschal mystery; 2.) the Christian missionary calls other people of faith to dis-cover the paschal paradigm of life and to adopt paschal values in their lives, con-sciences, and service; 3.) based on a free decision inspired by the Spirit, others are directly invited to join the community of the Christian church, where they can fully practice their .paschal mys-tery- centered faith. The paschal nature of life, faith, and redemption serves to integrate any dialogue and conversion process. Awareness of and participation in the paschal mystery often unfold in the lives of people in an evolutionary and progressive manner. The mission-ary finds the paschal mystery operative and recognizes conversion both outside and within the church. This wide, inclusive view of mission adds further meaning to the reality of the missionary church as the "universal sacrament of salvation" (LG ~48; AG §1). Missionaries sensitively aim at guiding people to explicit knowledge of what God has done for all men and women in Jesus Christ. Additional Mission Corollaries I have strongly affirmed the validity of centering mission, dia-logue, and conversion within the framework of the paschal mys-tery. This approach is a paschal missiology and challenges all missionaries to become paschal evangelizers in their own lives and through their involvement in the church's missionary activ-ity. In the context of today's broken world, the enormous afflic- Janttat3~-Februat."F 1996 Kroeger ¯ Bridging Interreligious Dialogue and Conversion tions and sufferings of humanity, and the need to maintain escha-tological hope, paschal missiology appears particularly insight-ful, necessary, and relevant. The insights flowing from a paschal-mystery-centered missi-ology are numerous; I mention these twenty corollaries only briefly and highlighted their relationship to paschal mission per-spectives. 1. Paschal mission emerges from the unity of all humanity in its sharing of the common paschal experience of rising through dying. Peoples of all faiths face questions of suffering as well as the mystery and meaning of life. 2. Paschal mission uses an inductive approach based on expe-rience to understand the church's call to mission. The church is urged to be active in "reading the signs of the times and of inter-preting them in the light of the Gospel" (GS §4); human suffer-ing and brokenness constitute a missionary challenge today. 3. Paschal mission strongly affirms the active presence of the Holy Spirit in the world, both in and beyond the boundaries of the church. The Spirit is constantly directing people to a God-encounter through their sharing in the paschal mystery. 4. Paschal mission embodies the virtue of Christian hope based on the firm belief in the resurrection. Eschatological hope, not suffering, is the integrating perspective of Christian mis-sionaries; that hope continually breaks into the world through missionary witness, service, and dialogue. 5. Paschal mission clearly allows missioners to be people of ,integrity. Their proclamation begins with their own paschal expe-riences and links them with people who share identical experi-ences~ Mission is not something superimposed upon reality; mission emerges from the commonly shared realities of mission-ers and their dialogue partners of various faiths., 6. Paschal mission demands a radical conversion of the mis-sioner to the values of a crucified and risen Lord; mission begins only when personal transformation has been initiated. Only the converted missioner can authentically call others to conversion. 7. Paschal mission requires the integration of contemplation into missionary praxis. No one can authentically address the pas-sion of humanity without possessing a deep contemplative faith; one must live into the paschal mystery. - 8. Paschal mission emphasizes that the work of the mission-ary involves both listening and speaking. Listening for the Spirit's Review for Religious action within the hearts and lives of people is a prerequisite for speaking of God's paschal love and saving deeds. 9. Paschal mission lays bare the sinfulness of today's world which is often enslaved in materialism, consumerism, individu-alism, greed, and pride. A paschal mentality challenges both per-sonal and social sin; it demands true conversion. 10. Paschal mission respects the free will and personal con-science of everyone; at the same time it is a call to conscience for generous people (Christians and other believers) to be committed to addressing the sufferings of humanity. 11. Paschal mission easily enters into dialogue with the fol-lowers of other religions. All religious traditions face identical human questions and mysteries. Dialogue enables peoples of faith to mutually explore and respond to questions of life and death. 12. Paschal mission connects intimately with today's chal-lenges of peace, justice, development, and ecology. It invites all of us to live in solidarity with our neighbors and to be prepared to suffer and die so that others may live. Again, such a paschal lifestyle demands profound conversion. 13. Paschal mission can be lived in all cultural contexts and sit-uations. As a missionary approach, it easily finds an inculturated home among diverse peoples. Paschal mission is also clearly trans-cultural. .~ 14. Paschal mission aims to be a holistic approach to mission, integrating the personal and social, the human and divine, the material and spiritual. It is an incarnational approach to being in mission. 15. Paschal mission emphasizes humble and self-effacing approaches to missionary activity; it consciously seeks to avoid any pitfalls of paternalism or colonialism. Missioners, believing in the beauty and truth of their message, seek to offer it with gen-erosity, sincerity, and authenticity. 16. Paschal mission is at heart a scripture-based missiology following the teachings and example of Jesus who came "not t? be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mt 20:28) 17. Paschal mission embodies an emphasis on witness and even a willingness to endure suffering, persecution, and martyr-dom. Contemporary missionaries knowingly and willingly embrace vulnerability because in Christ God reveals the divinity precisely in weakness rather than in power. Januaty-Febtvuoy 1996 Kroeger * Bridging Interreligious Dialogue and Conversion 18. Paschal mission is at heart a soteriology. Following the paschal path in mission brings both missioner and people into a direct experience of salvation in Jesus Christ, who "bore our sins in his own body on the cross; . . . through his wounds [we] have been healed" (1 P 2:24). 19. Paschal mission integrates well with the sacramental dimension of the church. All Christians are missionary by virtue of their baptism into Christ's death and resurrection (Rm 6:3-4). The Eucharist is the paschal meal that celebrates the death and resurrection of the Lord until he comes (1 Co 2:23-26); the Eucharist remains the "ongoing sacrament of mission" for Christians. 20. Paschal mission transforms the individual missioner into an attractive and credible witness. Missioners of the calibre of a Mother Teresa manifest the transforming effects of the paschal mystery in their lives, and all people of faith welcome such authen-tic witnesses. I began with a narration of an encounter, between a mission-ary and a Bangladeshi beggar-woman. That defining experience has produced much depth reflection on the .nature of mission, dialogue, and conversion. This missionary remains filled with gratitude for that God-given experience of grace. More reflec-tion needs to be given to the wealth of insights that can still emerge from viewing mission and dialogue through the optic of the paschal mystery. Relying on God's grace, this missionary looks forward to meeting that Muslim Bangladeshi beggar-woman once again in the resurrected life with Christ the Lord in the Kingdom. I am confident she will be there! References Cited Ad gentes (AG); Catechism of the Catholic Church (1994); Evangelii nuntiandi (EN); Gaudium et spes (GS); Lumen gentium, (LG); Redemptoris missio (/O4); World Youth Day Address: John Paul II, November 21, 1993 NOTE: Copies of a lengthy, academic treatment of this subject can be obtained gratis by writing to James H. Kroeger MM. Review for Religious DENN1S J. BILLY A Visit to Taiz Nr~t long ago I made my way through the rolling hills and pened vineyards of southern Burgundy in eastern France to a place recognized both far and wide as one of the world's great spiritual centers, the monastic community of Taiz& Founded in 1940 by Roger Schultz, a young Swiss theologian, the monastery began as a valiant attempt to restore monastic practice to the Protestant faith and soon blossomed into a truly ecumenical ven-ture that has since attracted members from Catholic and Protestant backgrounds alike from over twenty countries. Located atop a small hill in the vicinity of Sfione-et-Loire, not far from the ramshackled ruins of 'Cluny, the great center of Benedictine monasticism that has helped to carve much of the spiritual and temporal landscape of medieval Europe, Taiz~ represents a vital resurgence of the monastic spirit, the likes of which had not been seen in Western society for many, many years. Known for its sim-plicity of life, its calming musical rounds, and its warm hospital-ity to strangers especially the young, the community of Taiz~ has succeeded in blending old and new and the concerns of past and present in a way that has awakened the deep spiritual sensibilities of our anxiety-ridden world. No wonder it has become a verita-ble Mecca for many of those who wish to satisfy the latent pains of humanity's deep spiritual hungers. Hunger and Dust Taiz~ rustic environment does not encourage visits from the weak and feeble of heart. Those who enter its ground must be Dennis J. Billy CSSR published "The Abbey of S~nanque: A Journey of the Heart" in our September-October 1995 issue. His address is Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome, Italy. Billy * A Visit to Taizg prepared to forego many of the comforts of home they normally take for granted. The basic necessities are provided, to be sure, but not much else. The wooden barracks, the earthen trails, the open-air refectory, the simple fare of lentils, bread, juice, and fruit--all remind the weary traveler that one comes to this holy place for one purpose and one purpose only--to search for God. The young, in particular, are attracted by Taiz~'s austere regimen of life. Since 1957 they have flocked there by the thousands for sojourns of various lengths to feed their souls on its simple fare and sound spiritual sustenance. They come, in part, to escape the materialism and confusion of the tension-filled world they have left behind; in part; to understand the meaningoof their difficult and often bewildering journey through life; in part, to fathom the unchartered depths of their inner yearning for God and, more importantly, of God's own intense and deeply compassionate long-ing for them. Two things in particular struck me when I arrived there tired and hungry on that sun-dried autumn day: (1) the dust from the trails that had been kicked up by thousands of visitors (it appar-ently had not rained for some time), and (2)the extremely long lines.at meal time (even simple fare needs time to be distributed to such a large crowd). These two details have come to dominate. my impression of Taiz& Together, they tell of the great success of this extraordinary experiment in monastic living and show how it now stands at the crossroads of Europe's long and rather cir-cuitous spiritual journey. Hungry~pilgrims, covered with dust, wait to be fed lentils and bread, hungry, but happy--and more. than willing to wait their turn. Given its Spartan fare, its cramped quarters., its vulnerability to the elements, and its many other physical restrictions, Taiz~ .seems much like a plain, ordinary, at times even uninviting place. So why, one might ask, does anyone go°'there? Certainly not for the food or the primitive shelter it offers. Certainly not to walk the heavily rutted trails or to inhale the dusty air that envelopes them and sticks to their clothes. Something else has surely drawn them. In Praise of God That something else can be found in the Church of the Reconciliation, the spiritual center of the Taiz~ community, where day after day pilgrims join the small gathering of white-robed Review for Religious monks in raising their hearts and voices to God. The Taizd office combines different styles of liturgical music into a simple but elo-quent offering of praise. Great care is taken not only to train vis-itors in the various rounds and harmonies that form the backbone of the liturgy, but also to utilize the talents (musical or other-wise) of everyone present. The results impress even the most detached of observers--and with good reason. A typical celebration Will find a thousand or so silent pilgrims sitting quietly in prayerful expectation for the monks to process in silent devotion and move to their posi-tions at the prayer stools that line the choir space down the center of the church. At the end of the procession, Brother Roger takes his place at the head of the commu-nity and gathers around him as his special guests any children who have come there for the service: "Let the children come to me . The kingdom of God belongs to such as these" (Mt 19:14). The pregnant silence gives way to antiphonal praise, usu-ally in the form of a simple round that has been carefully rehearsed the day before: "Ubi caritas et amor . " The harmony of voices fills the church and transforms its simply built and purely functional sur-roundings into vibrating and. living move-ment of Spirit. Suddenly the music ends, and silence once more reverberates throughout the interior spaces of the. soul, All eyes are focused on the large flowing red and orange banners in the front of the sanc-tuary that present the participants with simple yet powerful sym-bols of the spiritual Pentecost they have all come to receive. The small voice of a child then calls out in the wilderness of the heart. "Prepare the way of the Lord" On 1:23). A lesson from Scripture follows as the moments continue to brush with eternity, and the community of believers experience their oneness in Christ on a level never known to them before. Another round of chant; more silence; another lesson from Scripture. One's consciousness of time quietly recedes. The hour passes quickly and it is time to conclude. The pas-sage from the life of the Liturgy to the Liturgy of life takes place Given its Spartan fare, its cramped quarters, its vulnerability to the elements, and its many other physical restrictions, Taizd seems much like a

Issue 50.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1991. ; Review Religious Volume 50 Number 5 September / October 1991 50 TM ANNIVERSARY VOLUME REVIEW FOR RI:.LIGIOUS (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. Telcphonc: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO and additional offices. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:\'~EW Foa R~:I,I(;IOUS; P.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 I.'Oa R~:t,tc, IOUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ° ST.LouIs, MO 63108 IIII III IIII II IIII III I PRISMS. What did you go out to the desert to see? A prophet? The question which Jesus asked his own people takes on a special poignancy for us toda~y in the Church. Our biblical tradition indicates that God raises up prophetic people in dark and difficult days. Because many see the time of renewal called for by Vatican II as a period of continuing strug-gle and tension--sometimes sadly with positions defended or fixed rather than with dialogue explored--affecting people and priests in parishes, bish-ops in national hierarchies, and religious in the same congregation, there is a greater tendency today to go running out, searching for a prophet. As usual there is also the temptation for some to play the prophet. But the prophetic tradition strongly emphasizes that tree prophets do not identify the role for themselves. God plucks people out of ordinary circum-stances, evokes some kind of personal conversion, and then speaks and works through them, even in their own reluctance for the role, and in their fear and trembling. Although we tend to apply the word prophet glibly to some modem-day leaders, educators, and writers, we perhaps are not far off the mark when we search for those movements and calls of God that come in incremental ways through ordinary-looking people and events. It is to acknowledge that prophets, like saints, have a range from "capital P" prophets (like our canonized "capital S" saints) with a major message of modeling and influence ~o the almost hidden (because of everydayness) small-letter prophets who in limited and confined ways raise questions, sug-gest new directions, make us uncomfortable, and at the same time give us hope. Prophets of lasting influence are s~arce at any time in our world's his-tory. Yet we may find it all too easy, even now, to mute the "smail p" prophet either ir~ our fixated search for major prophetic voices or in our disdain for less-than-radical calls. The even greater loss, however, happens when we may intentionally or unintentionally downplay our own lived (small p) prophetic witness to Christ's values--an integral part of our own chosen way of life. Review for Religious has been p~rivileged through the years to present voices of personal witness and articles of challenge and critique which repre-sent this common spectrum of our e ~eryday prophets. In this issue, "Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion" by Susan Rakoczy is a personal witness to 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 God's continuing call to go beyond a familiar homeland and to pay its enlivening costs---costs borne more within oneself than without. Jean Steffes considers directly in her article the theme of the prophetic-witness aspect of contemporary religious life. The articles by Giallanza, Levey, Arbuckle, and Mueller give further reflections on various aspects of religious life that affect its present and future witness. From the area of contemplation, the ground of all prophetic activity, Joseph Tetlow uses a very simple image from the changing seasons of the year to present an understanding of God's calls and our responses for a com-monplace continuity of spiritual growth. In a similar way Gerard Luttenberger sees through the contemplative Fourth Mansion of St. Ter6sa a way of praying apostolically. A prophetic relationship of faith with our United States culture grounds Hoffman's treatment of creative leisure and, in a very different fashion, Hinojosa's suggestions for formation, as he espe-cially has the Hispanic candidate in mind. Rywalt shares his experience of the sometimes dark journeying required of religious trying to follow God's lead in the transfer process in this consecrated lifeform. The prophetic and priestly people which we are will find fresh insight into the manna-food for our joumeying in Billy's "The Bread Kernel," clari-ty in Meyer's restating of the ministerial priesthood foundation through a deeper appreciation of an ambassador's role, and consolation in the gentle wisdom of living reflected in McDonald's "Faithful Servant." Perhaps, in our effort to identify prophets, McDonald's theme goes right to the heart of the matter. No truer discernment or greater tribute can be given to any prophet, spelled with large or small p, than to be identified, like Moses, as a faithful servant of God. David L. Fleming, S.J. Four Seasons of the Soul Joseph .4. Tetlow, SJ Father Tetlow wrote "The Mirror in the Field" for our November/December 1988 issue. His current address is Jesuit Hall; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. I~uring the experience of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, you have a sense of movement and of progress. Particularly during a nineteenth-annotation experience of them, you have the sense of getting along with things and of genuine growth in God. When you have finished the Exercises, if you are like many exercitants, you miss that sense of movement and progress. Even though you continue to pray as long and as seriously as you did during the Exercises, you may well come to wonder where "growth" has gone, and a sense of your life in Christ unfolding for you. You know how times of consolation and times of desola-tion mark spiritual growth or its absence, but this is the microeconomy of the spirit, a topological map of a mountain that does not tell you which range it is in or even which hemisphere. You might find some sense of getting along by applying the traditional phases or stages of spiritual growth. You would recognize, to start with, the stages of the purgative, illuminative, and unitive ways. You have heard of the Dark Nights, of the Senses and of the Soul. But reading these stages requires great expertness and an intense concentration on the interior life. You may find them of limited help in reading your growth in the Lord while you live an ordinary life in the world. Furthermore, these traditional stages of spiritual growth have focused tightly on the individual spirit. They do not comprehend a lot of the "your life world." They do not illuminate the interplay of others' needs and inter-ests with your own, or the tension between remaining faithful to your self and growing more faithful to those whom God gives you to love and be 643 644 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 loved by. Each of these traditional ways of gauging where you are in your interior life instructs you how to pray at a given time and what to pray about. They do not much tell you what to pray for. Now that you know the Spiritual Exercises, you might find it useful to think of phases or stages of the interior life in terms of the Four Weeks. You can take the Weeks as seasons distinct from one another. They really do match the phases or stages of growth that we go through as we live contem-platives in the active world. If you interpret your experience in these terms, you will not find a lot of instruction on what to pray about (that instruction will rise out of your current experience), but you will find sound instruction on what to pray for. The Seasons of the Four Weeks Think of the seasons not as four parts of one whole life, but as a cycle that we all go through in our life world. Consider life as a whole at this given moment, and picture how it is colored seasonally. The first season would be like this: You go along working hard and praying easily. You feel like springtime, and your whole self sprouts new life. Your life world seems filled with promise. Life is given to you, rising up from within your self and teeming all around you. In such a time, you are in the season of the Fourth Week. The truth is that Jesus came to "give you joy, and to the full," and he was transcendently powerful to achieve what he set out to achieve. As you know, we are created to live in consolation, which means that we share the sureness of the risen Christ that the reign of God comes, for each one of us and for all of humankind together. So we live in the joy of Christ, as we have a fight to do, and this is the Fourth Week. You enter Christ's joy, in work and in prayer. Ask yourself: During this springtime, what do you ask for? You go through times, as all of us do, of confusion and darkness, your inner world and life world matching. Your life world itself may be in tur-moil, and perhaps threatens your family, career, or health. All of us have experienced these times as wars succeed one another and one national crisis after another: toxic waste, the Savings and Loans debacle, the awesome national deficit. In a very real sense, when we suffer these times we are bear-ing the sins of all peoples--the sins of unjust rulers, of greedy people with economic power, of self-centered people who feed on us. In these times you feel powerless and perhaps even helpless. You live in depression or doubt or perhaps even jeopardy. In such a time you are walk-ing with Jesus Christ in his Passion. This is not merely metaphor: our Master warned us that we would feel persecuted and hunted, for if his life world Four Seasons of the Soul / 645 treated him as it did, then we are to anticipate faring no better. St. Paul said that we are to fill up the sufferings that Christ Jesus has still to undergo for the sake of his body, the Church. Sometimes we live in the Passion of Jesus, feeling the terrible weight of taking up our cross daily. In this wintry time of the Third Week, what grace gives you a sense of growth and movement? Again, at times you seem merely to be working along from day to day. You do not feel any great consolation or any notable desolation. You trust God by enacting your own desires and conscience and by doing the next good thing. You do not feel any great pressure to have life all figured out, or the vexing pressure of strong temptation to this or that sin you are prone to. You pray to the Father and listen to the Spirit. You live out your discipleship faithfully and enduringly. This is the Second Week, as you walk with Jesus of Nazareth, either in the long decades of his hidden life or in the brief exertions of his public life. It is full summertime, and you are growing in God. You take summertime concerns to prayer and stay with Jesus proclaiming his Good News. But summertime can seem lazy and unmoving. What grace will help you sense progress? Finally, there come times when you feel the weight of your own sin. You do again something that you thought you had truly put behind you. You fail to do something that you had set yourself most resolutely to do. You are in the First Week again. You find out that your ideal has little of the noble in it, or that your self-image includes falsehood, or that you have been acting as though you loathe your self and despise your life. Then you feel the deep burning of shame. Or you realize that you have been violating your own conscience, deliberately deceiving your own self and spreading your poison around you. Then you feel the icy sting of guilt. Yet all of this time you already know how God loves you, even how God keeps on being your Creator and Lord. This is the season of fall, when you join the cycle of life and death that belongs to this earth of ours. You flirt with spiritual death, but you know that you will not die, but live. You cannot doubt that God forgives again and again, and you take into your prayer that utter confidence in God's forgiving love. This is the season of the First Week. Once you have asked God's forgiveness, what else are we to ask for in order to have the experience of movement and growth? It is to find the answer to this question that you think in terms of the sea-sons of the Four Weeks. Other stages and phases instruct us in the kind of prayer we might give ourselves to. The "unitive way," for instance, suggests a prayer of deep quiet. Other stages help us hold onto the kind of faith and 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 hope we need to exercise. The Dark Night of the Senses helps us know that it is, indeed, faith we are exercising, and not doubt. Other stages or phases name kinds of temptation and grades of consolation and desolation. A pray-ing person who has been drawn to apophatic prayer will readily recognize daydreams of food as a desolation. But the stages and phases give little instruction on the very humble question of what, specifically, we are to ask for. Or perhaps more accurately, what instruction they do give is not readily accessible to the majority of praying Christians. "I Ask for What I Want" Matching the Four Weeks with the seasons of discipleship suggests immediately and accurately what you ought to ask God for. Each of the Weeks has a specific grace. These specific graces are precisely what we need in each of the four seasons of discipleship. When we feel the burning of shame or the icy sting of guilt, obviously, we ask forgiveness. Equally obviously, we receive this forgiveness even before we ask it. Then what? You would immediately reject dwelling on the shame or the guilt. You would repudiate self-lacerating examination. What you need is a sense of your complicity in humankind's sin, and a sense of how the disorder manifest in your life world lies waiting to manifest itself in yourself. You can ask for that plainly, and you will have a sense of getting on with God's project. You can also ask another gift of the First Week: the answer to the three questions in the colloquy of the first exercise. The deepest grace of the First Week is to be given eyes to see Jesus Christ. While you stand under the cross of Jesus Christ, you ask yourself, "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What might I do for Christ?" The growth and movement in answer to this prayer have to do with understanding the past and looking to the future. If you have been sinning, then start with how God succeeded in you, with what you have done for Christ. If you are acting sinfully, you need to attend to what else you are now doing: What are you doing for Christ? And as you repent yet again, you stand with Christ and ask what you might do for him and for his body the Church. This is the growth in the season of fall. A second season: of busyness. Your attention runs in a hundred direc-tions. You face concrete decisions hour by hour. You have to deal with oth-ers day after day. You have to remain authentic to your own self and grow more and more fully a member. Here, in this heated season of summer, you might ask most appropriately for the gift of the Second Week: to know Jesus Four Seasons of the Soul / 647 better, to love him more, and to go the way he goes. He has been through this summer and through the desert of busyness. For some the life of the Lord will be an inspiration (as Carl Gustav Jung said it ought to be). They will learn from Jesus of Nazareth how to relate in the dusty marketplace to the God who chooses to be father and mother to us. For others the life of the Lord will be an example for imitation (as the Church has taught since Jesus proclaimed himself Way, Truth, and Life). For all of us, growth in God means growth in loving Jesus of Nazareth who is the Christ. That is the grace you ask for in the summer, the Second Week. When winter comes upon your self and your life world, you cannot escape suffering. Well, in the Third Week, you have watched with Jesus through his Passion. Remember this accompaniment and what you asked for then. Perhaps you will ask to accept your suffering in compassion with Jesus suffering and to know shame "because the Lord is going to his suffering for my sins," while you have acted in complicity with all humankind in sinning. This is the grace of the first contemplation at midnight. In any pain or suffer-ing, growth will lie in and through compassion. You might be drawn, again, to ask that your own suffering somehow be "with Christ in sorrow, [your] anguish with Christ in anguish, [your] tears and deep grief because of the great affliction" Christ endured for you. This is a great gift, and those who embrace their own suffering in the world know what Jesus knew. This pain will end nothing, but will end; ifI can discern no movement toward life, I know my growth is where I am; God is faithful. This prayer to God transmutes a wintry time from merely a depression or recession or grave aggravation to a time of growth in Christ. Finally, when you live in happiness and your life world hums along in springtime, you can most reasonably beg God that you enter into the joy of Jesus Christ. There lies the way of movement and growth, first of all because you will not be immobilized by anxiety. We hold the happiness of earth tightly because it is given and taken away, apparently randomly. Unlike the joy of the earth, Jesus' joy is not given and taken away; it is given and to the full. Growth does not mean having things permanently or living secure or figuring everything out. All of these are illusory, and depending on any of them is writing on water. Growth for Christ's disciples entails precisely shaking off dependence on possessions and all defense against risks of personal encounter. You grow a more complete self with every deeper realization that God's is the initia-tive, the victory, which is Jesus' joy and glory. You grow more secure as you accept more and more fully that you did not earn life or joy and that, if you can make no demands, the One who gives constantly turns out more willing 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 to lavish gifts than you are to accept them. This is Jesus' joy and his glory. So in these springtimes we find our growth in begging "to be glad and rejoice intensely" not because of the great go6ds God is bestowing on us, but "because of the great joy and the glory of Christ our Lord." A Simple Matter of Moving Along Understand, the Four Weeks are not epigenetic stages that build one on another in succession, with the latest stage transmuting the earlier ones. This is the model used by Erik Erikson and the growth psychologists, and it is not appropriate here. The "seasons" mean something much simpler here. Nor does the word refer to an account of the adult life cycle, the "seasons. of a person's life" devised by Daniel Levinson and his colleagues. The "seasons" here are briefer and include not only internal dynamics but also the actuali-ties of your life world. As phases or stages, they would hardly be long-term and do not name permanent changes in the self. Think of it this way: Many skilled retreat directors begin an eight-day retreat by asking the retreatant what Week they are living. The retreat guide does not imply that the retreatant is going through a life cycle or.a phase with permanent effects--nothing so essential and long-range. The implica-tion is that we all go through certain seasoris and that we can usefully think of those seasons in terms of the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises. Many who have made the Spiritual Exercises yearn to keep the sense of progress and of forward motion that sustained them through the long days or months of prayer. They can help themselves do that by continuing one exer-cise that promoted that sense of progress during the Exercises: the preparato-ry prayer. Even those who turn to the Church's lectionary for the material of daily meditation or contemplation can ask for the special grace of the season they are in. They feel no unease or contradiction. On the contrary, they have a sense of familiarity and consonance, and a sense of getting on with life and with prayer. Few of us feel inclined to go back through the prayer texts and cycles of the Four Weeks, particularly over and over again. But you might find it useful to keep mindful of the special graces of the Weeks, and of the preparatory prayer. Re-creating Religious Life Joel Giallanza, C S. C Brother Joel recently completed his service in the ministry of provincial administra-tion and is currently Adjunct Retreat Director at Maryhill Renewal Center. His address is Maryhill Renewal Center; 600 Maryhill Road; Pineville, Louisiana 71360. /'~mong the principal tasks confronting religious life as the twenty-first cen-tury approaches is refoundation or, more descriptively, re-creation. While religious may not be completely comfortable with the demographics of increasing ages and decreasing numbers, they do not appear discouraged or despairing about the future: In fact, some communities have been reporting a modest and consistent increase in vocations and new apostolic ventures. Chapters, assemblies, and other gatherings of religious continue to search for the most effective means of responding to the needs of the Church and the culture in which they live. Among those means they assign high priority to ~'efounding or re-creating religious life itself. To that end, religious have explored the !ives and teachings of their founders and foundresses as well as the experiences and events which shaped the darly years of their communi-ties. The work now is to interpret those lives, teachings, experiences, and events for further practical application to contemporary religious life. The work now is to prepare for the future. Any creation, by its very nature, does not follow a predetermined blueprint. Nevertheless, there is one primordial model we can consider: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." These reflections will focus on the first three days of creation as a metaphor for the re-creation which religious need to undertake as they move toward and into the twenty-first century. In the Beginning During the first three days of creation, as Genesis relates the story, God 649 650 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 separates creation, giving each part a distinct identity. Only after this funda-mental work of separation and identification does God begin the cultivation of creation, filling it with a rich variety of living things, culminating in the appearance of humanity. Day 1 ~ Observation In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, covered in darkness; and the Spirit of God was moving over the face of the waters. God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, one day (Gn 1:1-5). It is intriguing that, after the heavens and the earth, light is God's first creation. Light enables us to observe and to distinguish; light enables us to see what needs to be done. God was present and active, though creation was covered in darkness. The creation of light makes observation and identifica-tion possible. Thus, light is distinguished from darkness; the former is iden-tified as day, the latter as night. Re-creating religious life involves observation. Religious must look courageously and see clearly the quality of every aspect of their lives and then distinguish between what will enhance that quality and what will not. To some degree this self-observation has been going on as religious respond-ed to the Church's call to read the signs of the times. However, with chang-ing demographics and subsequent adjustments to communal life and institutional commitments, religious need to refresh their response to this call and examine their lives yet more closely. In recent years apostolic religious life has known what it is to be "with-out form and void, covered in darkness." Some of this experience stems from the demographics and economics which have signaled the significant change--if not the death--of the religious life of twenty-five years ago. Some stems from the communal, ministerial, and structural implications of those demographics and economics. Some stems from modifications which religious themselves initiated through the process of'revising their constitu-tions and the traditional practices of their personal and communal lives. The ways in which religious live and minister and organize their congregations have changed and no doubt will continue to do so. Clearly, religious life has responsed to the Church and the cultures in which it witnesses. That religious life has undergone change is by itself no indication that nothing further need be done. Could the formlessness, emptiness, and dark- Re-creating Religious Life / 65'1 ness which religious sometimes feel about their way of life be the result of not observing areas needing yet further clarification and identification? These observations of mine focus on one area central to the lives of apostolic religious: celibate community. There is an asceticism inherent in any way of life in which two or more individuals have committed themselves to one another. Principally, that asceti-cism involves maintaining the common good over personal preferences. The acceptance of such an asceticism is essential to a healthy marriage and family life and to a healthy celibate community. Without that asceticism, the basic mutuality of the commitment begins to erode, and eventually the passion and dynamism within the relationships dissipate, then disappear altogether. If we observe the quality of our celibate community life over recent years, we have to ask whether there are times when consecrated commitment degenerates into corporate complacency. This is not to imply that religious have lost the ability to live community. Rather, it asks whether we have suf-ficiently explored other models of living a celibate communal lifestyle with-in the heritage and tradition of our congregations. Frequently in the past, community "happened" in a relatively large resi-dence associated with a congregational ministry. The daily schedules and general patterns of life within the community were much influenced by the needs of the ministry. Generally, those schedules and patterns reflected and were consistent with individuals' expectations. As ministry diversified (and individualized) during the last twenty-five years, expectations also diversi-fied. Common schedules and patterns became less possible and less realistic, given the broad spectrum of responsibilities and time commitments of local community members. Unless those expectations are observed, articulated, and modified as necessary, particularly in residences originally associated with a single ministry, those members unable to be present at certain times and events can be branded as having lost their sensitivity to or even their appreciation of the value of community. The ways in which expectations are lived are not solely internal; others observe how we live together, for better or for worse. Coworkers and other associates shape their perception and understanding of religious life by the pattern and quality of life they observe among us. Though we cannot live our lives in slavery to the multiple, diverse, and often inconsistent expecta-tions and assumptions with which others characterize us, we should not for-get that religious life is a form of witness to the Church and the culture. It bears a responsibility to be a living example of the Gospel and a working model of Jesus' mission. We need to observe our life as celibate community with a probing and 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 questioning eye. Are our communities prayerful, hospitable, and happy? Do we take individual and collective responsibility for the house in which we reside? In our communities, can we comfortably and frequently discuss the Gospel, faith, and religious life? Do we invite and welcomethose consider-ing religious life? Do we enjoy one another? Do we know one another? Do we live our life together with passion? Day 2 -- Separation God said, "Let there be a space between the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters." God made the space and separated the waters which were under the space from the waters which were above it. And it was so.And God,called the space Heaven. And there was evening and there was morning, a second day (Gn 1:6-8). With the dawn of the second day, God begins to put order into creation. Specifically, he makes some working room, so to speak, space in which to continue and complete the work of creation. If the first day emphasized observation and identification, then this second day emphasizes separation and distinction. Re-creating religious life involves separation. In recent years religious have spoken and written much about the need for continuing renewal. Chapters and other gatherings have focused extensively, and sometimes exclusively, on the renewal and refoundation necessary for religious life to be a continuing evangelical and apostolic force. Chapter documentation often remains disembodied as the demands of ministry and the routines of daily life reassert themselves after the chapter closes. Patterns of life change neither quickly nor easily. Regardless of how sublime and profound chapter proceedings may be, we will never effectively legislate renewal and refoun-dation. We must provide space for patterns of individual and communal life to be re-created. For celibate community, the observation and articulation of differing and conflicting expectations may suggest creating some new space. Can quality of life be sustained and intensified if those expectations are left to coexist without enough space for coordination? But, on the other hand, if coordina-tion becomes synonymous with the lowest common denominator, is the effort to provide such space worthwhile at all? Sometimes, no doubt, coordi-nation will bring about re-creation, but this does not seem to be the normal pattern; more often than not, re-creation by separation should be considered. Separation will involve establishing new local communities. Alternative housing could be provided for members who are committed to exploring and implementing a communal lifestyle that will meet their expectations and Re-creating Religious Life / 653 maintain a consistency and an integrity which reflect clearly their commit-ment as religious. The assumption here is that such alternative communities would be established with the highest common denominator as the standard. Prayer and relationships and the practice of the vows would be regularly reviewed to assure that standard. Separation is not schism, it is not a condemnation of other communal lifestyles within a congregation. Twenty-five years ago it was possible to find striking, and even exact, parallels throughout the local communities of a sin-gle congregation. Often those parallels were evident among many congrega-tions, also. Today, even between large local communities of the same congregation, we can find striking differences. Separation has to do with dis-tinction, not division. It seeks to express the rich diversity of ways in which a congregational heritage can be embodied among those committed to it. Major superiors have a significant role in this, a multifaceted role. First, they can take the initiative of identifying people and providing resources for new ventures even if the original initiativecame from community members themselves. The major superiors' involvement could signal the validity of the venture for those whose first reaction is critical. Second, major superiors can offer their support, encouragement, and assistance as new communities get underway. When some "red tape" needs cutting or some bureaucratic procedure needs streamlining, they are usually in a privileged position for expediting whatever needs to be done. Third, they can serve as initial observers and objective consultants for new local communities, Their role is not to mold groups into their own image and likeness, but to see that the members remain faithful to the principles and practices they have agreed upon for their life together. Finally, major superiors can be a buffer between nascent local communities and the established community. Not everyone in the latter group will agree with new ventures and the direction they repre-sent. Major superiors should avoid any defensive posture which would make the new communities look like aberrations in the eyes of the established community. They should focus their explanations about these ventures on their continuity with the congregational heritage. Separation is a means of re-creating celibate community; it is an invest-ment in the future. No doubt there are risks involved, but the prophetic nature of religious life has always placed religious in precarious situations. The risks are a challenge to acknowledge God's providential presence and activity. As religious we must reaffirm our faith in providence and move boldly into the future. Without faith, we undermine the very foundation of our religious life; without movement, we betray any assurance we profess to have about the future. 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 The future will come, but not in a vacuum. The choices we make now will determine the quality of that future. In making those choices, we need to create a fresh space, to provide a place for the future. Day 3 -- Cultivation God said, "Let the waters under the heavens be gathered into one place, and let the dry land appear." And it was so. God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered he called Seas. And God saw that it was good. God said, "Let the earth produce growing things, plants bearing seed, and fruit trees bearing fruit containing their seed, each according to its kind, upon the earth." And it was so. The earth produced vegetation, plants bearing seed according to their own kinds, and trees bearing fruit containing their seed, each according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, a third day (Gn 1:9-13). The third day brings cultivation to what has been created. With the emergence of land, "growing things" can appear; each of these growing things contains individuality and generativity. Life--and all of creation-- will continue; there will be another day. "And God saw that it was good." With this third day, God has completed the foundation for what will appear on the succeeding days of creation. And the foundation was good. Re-creating religious life involves cultivation. The future quality of celi-bate community will not appear by spontaneous generation, nor will it be manufactured according to elaborate specifications. It must be cultivated. Establishing new local communities does not signal the dawn of the seventh day; it is not the time to rest and lay aside further efforts. Quite the contrary, it is the time to move forward enthusiastically and confidently with every-thing that has been initiated thus far. This is the time for "growing things?' The root of the word cultivate is a term which can be translated "to move around" and "to dwell," depending upon the context. This dual ety-mology is quite appropriate for these present reflections. Cultivating celibate community requires some moving around. Community compromises vitality if it stops moving according to its own informed choices; that is, if it begins to operate on automatic pilot. Vitality springs from the continuing observa-tion and articulation of expectations. Patterns of personal and communal life must be mutually monitored with integrity and without fear of reprisal. Relationships must be nurtured naturally With quality time and refreshed regularly through reconciliation. Cultivation assumes that expectations and patterns and relationships will evolve. Cultivation flourishes in an environ-ment of exchange, interest, care, and concern. Cultivation moves around Re-creating Religious Life / 655 within and among community members to prevent that stagnation which taxes commitment and tempts to convenience. Cultivating celibate community requires some dwelling. Cohabitation is not celibate community; it merely means that two or more people inhabit the same residential space and need not involve any interpersonal commitment. Dwelling goes beyond living together to include entrusting our lives to one another. If we do not have mutual trust with those with whom we live, then what grounds do we have for claiming we entrust our lives to the Lord? It is a basic tenet of faith that the quality of our relationships with one another verifies or falsifies the quality of our relationship with the Lord. Truly dwelling with one another, recognizing that our life together makes a home of the house, is a certification of our love relationship with one another and with the Lord, and a witness of integrity to others. There is no flawless formula for assuring cultivation; it involves all the effort, discipline, and asceticism requisite for any healthy relationship. There are, however, some principles which can support that effort, discipline, and asceticism. First, clarity of vision: Members must have a sense of the direction in which they hope the community to move. More than an in-house conve-nience, that vision is part of the apostolic character of celibate community. Second, communication of values: A common vision is built upon shared values. Without this sharing, there is little common ground to cultivate; com-munity quickly becomes an arid land. Third, cooperation for vitality: This is a discipline and an asceticism which positions the common good as the high-est priority. The vitality of vision and values can be cultivated only coopera-tively; it cannot be assumed. Fourth, concern for vocation: This is the foundational principle. Vision and values have no vital and substantive pur-pose and meaning unless community members share a sincere concern for the integrity of their commitment to the vocation of religious life. In practice, these principles are skrategies which must characterize the re-creation of celibate community. Cultivation is a daily enterprise which will mark the presence and activity of community members with one anoth-er. Thus, cultivation never comes to a point of sufficiency, beyond which no further efforts are necessary. There will always be both peaks and plateaus in the quality of life within any community. The principles of clarity, communi-cation, cooperation, and concern are reminders that neither the peaks nor the plateaus are places of permanence. We must cultivate celibate community if it is to have a prophetic place in the future and even if it is to have a future at all. We must cultivate it since the culture will not support it. We live in a culture whose materialistic, indi- 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 vidualistic, and sensualistic preferences and practices have compromised its capability for fostering the personal commitment which lies at the heart of both celibacy and community. The decline of marriage and the family is but one testimony to that compromise. Celibate community can stand as a prophetic sign that such a commitment is humanly possible. For the future, that sign may be the small seed which is cultivated into the means of trans-formation for the entire culture. In the Days to Come "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." As the story is presented, nothing existed before God began his creative work. Everything could be made as an original, without the pressing and pressuring influence of a long-standing tradition. God could, so to speak, work from scratch. Re-creating religious life, and celibate 'community in particular, cannot assume the absence of any influence. There are values and traditions and practices by which communal religious life has endured and prospe,red over the cen-turies. The observation, separation, and cultivation which will position reli-gious life for re-creation cannot dismiss that influence as unnecessary, nor distance it as untouchable. The influence of those realities which have shaped religious life can be incorporated and assimilated into the re-creation; thus will be their creative transformation. Admittedly, some refinement may be necessary to preserve the spirit of those values, traditions, and practices. Nevertheless, such refinement is not a ruling of inadequacy, but a rendering unto new life. In the days to come we must observe closely the ways and means of our religious life together. We need to articulate clearly and forcefully the values by which we will actually live.Prophetic statements from individuals or chapters or other gatherings that remain forever disembodied phrases will never be true characterizations of religious life. Indeed, they can become pharisaical, lofty ideals without living intent. Observation, as I have used the term, has more to do with enacting motivation than with simply gathering information. In the days to come we must separate ourselves from whatever patterns of life have compromised or constricted our desire and ability to live our religious commitment with intensity and integrity. We must re-create the spirit of being called, of being set apart for the Gospel. Without that spirit, the prophetic prowess of religious life is neither affectively experienced nor effectively expressed. Within that spirit, religious life claims the power and proclamation which are the inheritance of Gospel witnesses. In the days to come we must cultivate our life together. We need to re- Re-creat.ing Religious Life / 657 create the commitment we have made to God and to one another. We have at our disposal a power for and a promise of common life that can bring hope to a world broken by betrayal, gouged by greed, and disheartened by deceit. The passion with which we live our celibacy, poverty, and obedience will counteract the standards set by that betrayal, greed, and deceit. The convic-tion with which we re-create and realize our communal life will cultivate and confirm the presence and activity of the kingdom within and around us. "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." This is an old story, but one that may be enacted once again as religious life approaches the twenty-first century. Observation, separation, and cultivation are strategies which can support the work of re-creation; and yet we should never displace the fundamental truth that this is God's work, all is grace. The alliance between those strategies and that grace will enable us to speak of religious life and of celibate community with the same bold confidence which marked Yahweh's promise for the temple. "The Lord Almighty speaks: 'Is there any-one among you who can still remember how splendid the temple used to be? How does it look to you now? It must seem like nothing at all. But now do not be discouraged, any of you. Do the work that is needed, for I am with you, so do not be afraid . In the_days to come the new temple will be more splendid than the old one, and there I will give you prosperity and peace' " (Hg 2:3-4, 9). To the Bird of My Prayer Songster, your hymn of praise Never ceases in a melody all your own; Chanting a song--pleading, thanking-- With the sheer joy of having voice to sing. From highest pole to roof, you find your perch, No earth-bound bush can stifle flight to God. Anna Louise Staub, S.S.J. 217 W. Commercial St. East Rochester, NY 14445 Prophetic Witness in Contemporary Religious Life Jean Steffes, CSA: Sister Jean Steffes has been general superior for the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Agnes. Her address is: 427 Gillett Street; Fond du Lac, Wisconsin 54935-4598. The notion of being prophetic in today's society can conjure up many images in us, depending upon our perspective. For some of us being prophetic might seem a quality to be admired in Dorothy Day, Archbishop Romero, the martyred Jesuits of El Salvador, and the Agnesians Maureen and Teresa of Nicaragua, but one to which we could never aspire. It wo~ld mean speaking, acting, or giving witness in larger-than-life situations that may never be the platform for most of us. Another perspective might give rise to images of angry demonstrations directed at society and culture or at our Church. The call for greater inclusion of women in roles in Church and society, for the right to life of the unborn, the unwanted, and the elderly, and for the preservation of our environment can result in tactics that seem or are angry. For those who shrink from such approaches, even the very valid and necessary content can be lost. A third image of the prophet (which we may enjoy) is of one who foretells the future. In our society there are those who use past patterns to predict our economy's collapse or other dire conse-quences. For those of us who live a Gospel faith, such prophets do not give the hope so necessary to engage in present realities and so make the world a better place here and now. The images I have shared are overdrawn stereotypes, but they show the difficulty in speaking on the topic of prophetic wit]aess. In this reflection I will explore three broad areas: (1) What does it mean to be prophetic? (2) prophetic witness and the current experience of religious life: (3) an agenda for the future. 658 Prophetic Witness / 659 What Does It Mean to be Prophetic? Walter Brueggemann says in The Prophetic Imagination, "The time may be ripe in the church for a serious consideration of prophecy as a crucial ele-ment in ministry."~ Prophets understood how change is effected. They knew the power of language, how to "evoke newness, 'fresh from the word.' ,,2 Let us develop at some length Brueggemann's ideas of prophecy. He states, "The task of prophetic ministry is to nurture, nourish, and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the domi-nant culture around us . ,,3 I believe his approach can help us understand prophetic witness as it applies to the goals and meaning of religious life. Beginning with the story of Moses, we can learn what it means to form an alternative community. The story of the Exodus shows us how Moses and the Israelite people were brought out from their domination by an imperial religion and the politics of oppression and exploitation. The religion and pol-itics of Pharaoh worked hand in hand to keep him in power and control. Through the interaction of Moses and Aaron with Pharaoh and his regime, the Israelites began to see the difference between the freedom of God and the lack of freedom of the Egyptian gods. Belief in the Egyptian gods served to maintain a social order that allowed for oppression and exploitation. The God revealed to the Israelites is tied to no social order. God is a God of free-dom who calls for an alternative community built on the politics of justice and compassion. The alternative consciousness that Moses fostered in the Israelites was both critical and energizing. His critique, validated when the Egyptians were struck by plagues which their gods were powerless to counter, showed up false claims to power and authority which could not keep promises in the face of the free God. Prophetic criticism has an element of grieving in it as the prophet mourns the oppressions encountered. The Israelites were afflict-ed, oppressed, and ground down by the dominant Egyptian culture, and so they risked the freedom of the free God against the regime. The energizing happened not through what the Israelites already possessed but through what was promised. God went before them in pillars of fire and cloud and trans-figured this fear into energy. The people were energized to follow the free God to establish an alternative community built on justice and compassion. Though the Israelites left Egypt to live more freely, they, too, eventually developed a dominant culture. It was characterized by the reign of Solomon, whose whole achievement appears to have had the self-serving purpose of securing the place of the king and king's dynasty. Solomon did not welcome the ideas of a free God and an alternative community any more than did Pharaoh, for they threatened the established order. There were three bases 660 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 for Solomon's rule that generally mark any dominant culture. First, there was incredible well-being and affluence, though it was not equitably shared. Some went without enough so that others might have too much. Second, an oppressive social policy sustained the standard of living. There was a system of forced labor in which laborers met the needs of the state although unable to meet their own needs. The politics of justice and compassion disappeared, and the order of the state became the overriding agenda. Third, there was the establishment of a controlled and static religion. God and God's temple became part of the royal landscape. How could God, seen as living in a house provided by the king, say anything critical or abrasive? Solomon was countering the counterculture of Moses: the economics of equality was countered with the economics of affluence, the politics of justice with the politics of oppression, and the religion of God's freedom with the religion of God's accessibility. The dominant culture of Solomon managed to brush aside Moses' vision. The gift of freedom was taken over by the yearning for order, and the human agenda of justice was used for security. Against reali-ties like these, people are called to utter prophetic words. Moses both criticized and energized. Like him, Jeremiah is shown as proclaiming the critique while Second Isaiah offers the energy for the new vision. The prophets offer symbols that contradict a situation of hopelessness and give public expression to long-unspoken fears and hopes. They show us that the dominant culture leads people to despair of new life. They present an alternative consciousness, grounded in the unwavering faithfulness of God, that can energize the community to new forms of faithfulness and vital-ity. Jesus, too, is shown as a prophet who criticized the dominant culture of his day. "Jesus is remembered and presented by the early Church as the faithful embodiment of an alternative consciousness.''4 Jesus' ministry and death oppose the politics of oppression with the politics of justice and com-passion. The counterpart to the crucifixion is the birth of a new reality that finds full expression in the resurrection. What does this very challenging reflection on prophets and prophetic consciousness have to say to us in religious life? What is apostolic religious life's prophetic role in church and society today? It is important to reflect on this, recognizing that we have generous portions of both dominant culture and alternative consciousness within us. We recognize our conflicted nature, yet we aspire to a prophetic role in church and society. We must ask, then, whether apostolic women religious have been co-opted by our dominant consumer culture or whether we manifest an alterna-tive consciousness based on the freedom of a free God. Do we show a belief in community and interdependence as inherent in our way of life, or are we Prophetic Witness / 66'1 fragmented and self-centered? Are we motivated by a desire for justice and compassion, or do we prefer stability even at the price of the exploitation and oppression of "invisible" others? The questions are hard but necessary as we examine the religious way of life for evidence of prophetic witness. Prophetic Witness and the Current Experience of Religious Life Our challenge as women religious is to position ourselves to recognize the revelation of the future. One current writer, Mary Jo Leddy, N.D.S., speaks of the need to develop a postliberal model of religious life. Her thesis is that the basis for our contemporary religious life in North America is a declining culture that depends on the liberal thought fed by industrial capi-talism. While liberalism has made many contributions to modern society, it cannot deal with the reality of limits. If there can be no limits, ultimately there can be no meaning or values. Liberals tend to see themselves as contemporary or progressive and in conflict with the conservative or traditionalist ideas of Church and religious life. In Leddy's view, the more serious obstacle to the transformation and renewal of religious life results from the tension between the liberal and the prophetic approaches. The prophetic leads us to a more radical response in spirituality, mission, ministry, and community. The prophetic is risky, for it calls us to response to an unknown future rather than reaction to a no-longer-valid past. Leddy says, "We who live in a disintegrating empire today are summoned at prophetic moments to criticize the patterns of decline within our culture and within ourselves, to contemplate the holiness of God in the midst of these dark times, and to evoke the creative desire in one another for a meaningful alternative for the future.''5 These words are very similar to those Brueggemann uses to describe the prophetic imagination. The prophetic intersects with our apostolic religious life. Contemporary writers call religious to the same challenge the prophets faced in biblical times. Religious congregatiohs represent an alternative to the values of the dominant culture but do not stand apart from the people. Rather, apostolic religious recognize clearly the need for reflection, discernment, and a ground-ing in the holy as they criticize, yet energize, themselves and their peers to bring the values of the Gospel into contemporary society and culture. We have reflected on what it means to be a prophet. We have also recog-nized the challenge it presents to apostolic religious. Let us now look at cur-rent beliefs and responses regarding apostolic religious life in light of prophetic witness. I will consider mission direction, the meaning of member-ship, and some current realities. These areas provide us with the material to critique and energize our own prophetic potential. 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 Mission Direction Although expressed differently in each congregation, mission direction today involves in some way a commitment to transformation of the world, the Church, and ourselves through promoting systemic change for the quali-ty of life; justice for the economically poor; furtherance of the role of women in church and society; and mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration in all relationships. Such mission direction clearly reminds us of our partici-pation in the mission of Jesus. When we call ourselves to systemic change for the quality of life, what do we mean? We are asking for two things, systemic change and quality of life. When we say the system is not working well, how do we want to change it so it will work better? For whom do we want it to work better? If we take a global view, we see that entirely too much of the world's popula-tion is forced to live at a level that does not meet its basic needs of food, shelter, health care, and education while a minority has more than its share. We see that, in order to feed the wants and needs of a market economy, rain forests are irrevocably destroyed, topsoil is depleted, deserts are expanded mercilessly, and the world's fresh-water supply is tainted and diminished. On local and national levels we 'must ask ourselves how the needs of the poor are being met. After all, Jesus was clear in showing us that whatever we do to the least of his people we are doing to him. The poor are receiving poorer education, less nourishing food, substandard or no housing, and inad-equate health care in this country so rich in resources and technology. We must use our ingenuity, gifts, and talents to change a system that has canonized greed and competition in order to satisfy wants. How can we in our own daily living point the way to change that would benefit those with least access to the system without denying the legitimate gains and goods of our society and culture? Such responses as simplifying our lifestyle by avoiding use of Styrofoam, recycling our disposables, and making thought-ful choices regarding food and other consumer goods can raise our con-sciousness and lead us to getting others involved and to networking with those already involved. Indeed, most changes begin as ordinary people change their thinking and the patterns that go with their thinking. We must know our values so that they, rather than the manipulative marketing of an over- consumptive dominant culture, will shape our choices and responses. We claim that we want justice for the economically poor. This value links with the goal of systemic change for the quality of life. Jesus' life and ministry showed us his love of preference for the poor. This is not to say that Jesus does not love all, but that his ministry was not directed in the main to those who were the power brokers of his day. These, of course, he invited to Prophetic Witness / 663 join him in loving God and neighbor, but the cost was generosity, sharing their possessions. Jesus was good news for the poor. Are we who are called to continue Jesus' mission also good news for the poor? Whether in direct service So the poor or in ministry with middle- and upper-middle-class peo-ple, are we focused on a more just distribution of and access to necessary goods and resources? Do we in our teaching and in our healing, pastoral, and social works always have in mind those who are less fortunate than we are? Are we willing ~o call others to this consciousness even when we see and know that the poor are not to be idealized? They, like us, have faults and failings and may not reflect Christ as we might want them to. A reverence for the poor calls us to a view of Christ very different from that of popular piety. While comforting, it is challenging; while open and inviting, it is demanding; and while satisfying, it never ceases to call out for more--more love, more generosity, more hospitality. Not all of us are called to direct ser-vice with the poor, but all of us are called to seek justice for the poor. In this quest we continually recognize that we, too, are among the needy and are enriched by those we serve. Another commitment common to religious is to the furtherance of the role of women in church and society. Worldwide, the conditions of women vary from those in countries where women have legal equality to those where brides are still considered property. Women the world over have the primary responsibility to feed and care for the children even though means and resources are not equitably at their disposal. In the United States a vio-lent crime is committed against a woman every three minutes, and a woman is raped every six minutes. Households headed by women are increasing while the rate of their income is dropping. Children are our most precious resource, but those who care for them are denied the necessary means. Our Church struggles with the role women are to play in its pastoral, liturgical, and philosophical reflections.In the U.S. the most recent draft document on women's role in the Church and society calls for equality for women in theory but holds back in p.ractice. As John XXIII said in Pacem in Terris in 1963, "Since women are becoming ever more conscious of their human dignity, they will not tolerate being treated as inanimate objects or mere instruments, but claim, both in domestic and in public life, the rights and duties that befit a human person.''6 The women's issue is more than an issue, it is a perspective that demands attention and response. Once unleashed, the forces of confusion and dissension drive towards resolution. In our lives we will use inclusive language, advocate for women, and net-work to help make society a friendlier place for women to develop and share their gifts and talents. Despite such a commitment on the part of congrega- 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 tions, there is dissension among women religious in language usage and other matters. Our heads and hearts find themselves in conflict here, leading to results that could be less than satisfying. Can we avoid being our own worst enemy in the search for inclusivity? Let us not deny the richness of our past, the demands of the present, or the call of the future as we work for justice and right for women in contemporary society and church. Another area of commitment of apostolic religious today has to do with mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration in all our relationships. The values implied here are very positive, and yet to achieve them one must give in order to receive. The mystery of sacrifice is contained in these words in a way that is not apparent at first glance. For mutuality to occur, I must not only believe in myself, I must also learn to believe and trust in the other. With whom do we allow ourselves to be mutual? Do we let power, position, language, style of dress, or education prevent us from speaking our truth or hearing that of others? In terms of inclusivity, do we go to the extremes either of having no boundaries or expectations or of expecting everyone to fulfill every role or function in an organization? Inclusivity involves includ-ing others in the concerns affecting their own lives. Not all will do every-thing, but there must be input from those affected. In terms of discernment, though all are included, not all perspectives can be responded to or chosen. We often try to make inclusivity mean pleasing everyone all of the time even though this may be impossible. Finally, let us look at c.ollaboration. If we pull the word apart, we can see the meaning as co-labor or working with. At one time we may have considered ourselves collaborative if we hired lay teachers and nurses and more so if we hired lay administrators. Collaboration at its most radical, however, calls us not just to bring others into our projects and have them do things our way, but to work with others and to respond to the signs and needs of the times together. Unhe.althy com-petition or too rigid control in ministry or community strikes at the heart of the love which binds us together so that the 'risen Christ may be discovered among us and in our world. The Meaning of Membership The consideration of mutuality, inclusivity, and collaboration leads us into the meaning of membership. Community life is a topic, issue, and reali-ty that continues to generate much attention. As apostolic religious we have such different experiences, expectations, and definitions regarding commu-nity life and the meaning of local community. Sometimes when the phrase "local community" is used, the assumptions and expectations already in place cause us to "shut down," to become unable to continue a dialogu~ Prophetic Witness because we are really unable to h~ar one another. (I personally have felt anger, despair, defensiveness, longing, fear--and also hope--around this topic.) What has led religious women to this state and what can we do to move beyond shutdown and breakdown to a breakthrough? It is clear that, in this matter, apostolic women religious are striving, striving to understand meaningful bonding and to express it through authentic participation in community. Someone recently said that we may have so emphasized mission and ministry in the years of renewal following Vatican II that c6mmunity has become the shadow side of our way of life. If that is the case, the difficulties surrounding our efforts to deal with community life are deep and profound. We must face and deal with this central area of our way of life so that we are nok torn apart by unclear expectations and assumptions. I offer three perspectives for consideration in the area of community: human-growth issues, the importance of faith community and faith sharing, and l~ousin~ in community. We sometimes get bogged down by human-growth issues in our lives with one another on the local or on the broader community level even though our lived experience points to the need for human growth and development among ourselveg. Each of us knows how difficult it is to change herself and how truly futile it is to expect to change another. Each of us must deal with herself and her own issues in as healthy a fashion as 16ossible. Only when my behaviors and patterng are healthy may I be able to imiarove the dynamics between myself and those with whom I interact on a r~gular basis. The challenge here is to deal with my own behav-iors, realizing that I have no real or lasting power over the behaviors another may choose. My role is to try not to feed into unhealthy behaviors that may be pre.sent around me. Although unatteiaded human-growth issues can wreak havoc on healthy relating within community, still apostolic religious must recognize that we will never overcome all of these problems either individually or corpbrately. Gra~e biailds on nature; it will not replace or deny our humanness. We must realize how eadh sister's desire and motivation influence her choices regard-ing her behavior and interaction. We cannot choose for each other, only for ourselves. Each ~'eligious needs to be challenged to a self-knowledge and self-awareness leading to growth. Practices such as spiritual direction, the annual retreat, and the daily consciousness examen can keep us grounded in reality yet open to ongoing conversion. We must deal with human-growth-and-development issues, but not remain there. We must be committed to the making of or participating in faith community as a means of nurturing shared life, shared love, and shared vision. We must find ways to relate regularly and meaningfully with our sis- 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 ters in community in order to reflect on, renew, and recommit ourselves to the mission, charism, and spirit of our congregation in our daily lives. Depending upon our miriistry and the proximity of other congregational members, how we do this will differ; that we must do it if membership is to mean more than an annual touchdown or the reading of congregational mate-rials is the reality we face. Some Current Realities I. recogniz9 that each congregational member will have other communi-ties thai will lay claim to her time, energy, and affection. That is good and healthy. My point is that we must have quality time for our own congrega-tion as well, as part of the ordering rhythm of our lives. Sometimes one's commitment to ministry or to parish can become so all-encompassing that ther~ is. little or no time or energy left for her to express her membership in her religious congregation. For me, the making of faith community involves reverence for one another, presence to one another for celebration as well ag dialogue and reflection, honesty so that we can affirm one another or call each other to growth, and a commitment to the goals and developing agenda of our congregation. This topic of makirig and participating in faith community leads to another important topic: the difference between housing and local communi-ty: We often equaie the two and this ~quation may not reflect that community life is broader than housing. The recent lived reality of women religious shows that faith community on the "local" level is not necessarily synony-mous with where a sister lives. In some locales th~ sisters have committed themselves to hei,ng a faith community without walls; regular meetings, cele-brations, and gatherings among them challenge and deepen their member-ship in the cbngi'egation, in other locales the sisters in a particular house function well as a faith community. We must recognize such differing com-munity realities and encourage them on the local level as well as on the con-gregational level. A commitment to community in our current society of intenge individualism and consumer gratification keeps us involved in a prophetic role. An Agenda for the Future The prophetic nature of this life to which we are called leads us to cob-sider an agenda for~the future. Any living organization must be open to change or it will die. In a sense change is an ordered type of death, not death as final but rather death leading to new life. One of the greatest strengths of apostolic women religious is the serise that the agenda or common goals Prophetic Witness / 667 belong to all of us. This strength we will build on as we look at change and new life for us religious. Central to understanding ourselves as women religious is understanding our spirituality. I believe that the biggest challenge for each of us with regard to spirituality is to lead more integrated lives. Integration does not just hap-pen in a person's life. It must be worked at daily through a continuous blend of action and reflection leading to further action. Somehow the aspects of one's life must be part of a whole rather than segments that do not overlap. In an integrated life my religious commitment is not separate from who I am when I am at leisure. My response in mission and ministry is not limited to my paid professional work but may overlap into volunteer involvements in food pantries, visiting the sick or elderly, letter writing, and other activities. Community life is not an end in itself in an apostolic religious institute, nor is it merely a refuge that ought to be there when I want and need it. Community is a place or space where I share faith and vision, humanness, and the quest for the divine. My ministry is not all-consuming; I do allow myself necessary time for recreation and reflection. And my prayer life is more than specified exercises or spiritual reading. All these somehow fit together and reflect my spirituality, my integration of life. An integrated life has powerful witness value in a society that wants everything and does not want to be reminded of the need for balance. Integration is not synonymous with transformation, but it can surely open us to being transforming elements in the institutions and structures of society and culture. In our desire to be prophetic witnesses, we commit our-selves to transformation of the Church, the world, and ourselves~ I recently read that one way of understanding transformation is to look at the life cycle of the butterfly. First there is a caterpillar; next there is the chrysalis stage, in which the organic matter is quite shapeless and formless; finally, there is the butterfly. Transformation is what happens in the chrysalis stage. The process is not very appealing; it suggests a profound letting go as well as an openness to a different future. While transformation has global ramifications, it will not begin at the global level but rather at the local level, where we can encourage one anoth-er to let go of attitudes or practices that may have been more helpful to a known and comfortable past than to the needs of the present or the concerns of the future. The desire for transformation of the world, the Church and our-selves flows directly from our relationship to God, self, others, and creation. It is expressed in a commitment to justice, peace, and the integrity of cre-ation. Transformation is not something anyone can directly make happen by willing it. No one person caused the recent freedom movement in Eastern 668 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 Europe, nor can one individual move our economy from a military focus to a domestic and global focus responding to human and planetary needs in a humane fashion. Likewise, no ond person's recycling of materials will reverse our problem with excessive waste. Yet all of these and many other alternative responses can indeed lead to transformation. When such respons-es begin, networking or replicating starts to happen and systems begin to change. At the May 1990 meeting of the council of the International Union of Superiors General (UISG) in Rome, the following global challenges to evan-gelization were identified: the widening gap between the rich and poor; indi-vidualism characterized by greed, violence, terrorism, abandonment, indifference, and irresponsibility; loss of human dignity through political oppression, social discrimination, and economic injustice; the breakdown of family life; the destruction of the environment; inability to trust the human community, coupled with a preoccupation with survival. These challenges help us to formulate an agenda for transformation that is larger than ourselves, and they clearly link with the transformative ele-ments for religious life in the future developed by the major superiors of U.S. women's and men's communities (LCWR/CMSM) in August 1989: prophetic witness; contemplative attitude toward life; poor and marginalized persons as the focus for ministry; spirituality of wholeness and global inter-connectedness; charism and mission as sources of identity; change of the locus of power; living with less; broad-based inclusive communities; under-standing ourselves as Church; and developing interdependence among peo-ple of diverse cultures. These challenges and transformative elements reflect in broad strokes the goals and concerns ofapostolic religious. Though the future depends in part upon us and our efforts, it depends even more on the grace of God our Creator, the inspiration of the Spirit, and our cooperation with each other as members of the body of Christ, joined in a common humanity and gifted with a common creation. Our communion with and in Christ calls all humanity "to reclaim relationships with family, clan, and tribe, to choose the common good, to seek solidarity with one another and with the earth.''7 For transformation to occur, we must believe and act in such a way that we give the message that life has meaning and that, assisted by God's grace, our responses make a difference. The prophetic imagination described by Brueggemann remains viable as we respond in our own times with an alter-native consciousness, as we critique our dominant culture and yet energize one another for a more just and compassionate future. Our faith gives us the vision and the mission, our hope gives us spirit and energy, and our love Prophetic Witness / 669 grounds us in the mysterious blend of transcendence and immanence that is life. I close this reflection on prophetic witness and apostolic religious life with Isaiah's words: "Remember not the events of the past, the things of long ago consider not; see, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?" (Is 43:18-19). NOTES I Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 9. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid, p. 13. 4 Ibid, p. 88. 5 Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990), p. 164. 6 John XXIII, Pacem In Terris, in Seven Great Encyclicals (Glen Rock, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1963), p. 297. 7 Helen Maher Garvey, B.V.M., excerpt from notes on the Meeting of the General Council, UISG, Rome, Italy, May 7-11, 1990, p. 2. Storms Tornado watch, the weatherman said, to last until ten o'clock. Four hours to wait for what may be or not. Storms of spirit come suddenly; swirl through the heart's towns and wash its skies to morning clean-- with no hours to wait for what so swiftly is. Sister Elizabeth deSales Dee, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 7300 Torresdale Avenue Philadelphia, Pa. 19136 Mission or Consecrated Religious Person: Which Comes First in Apostolic Institutes? Marie Therese Levey, R.S.~. Sister Marie Therese has taught school in country areas of Australia. Later she spe-cialized in teaching instrumental music: piano and violin. More recently she has done research in liturgical music and earned a Ph.D. Her address is St. Joseph's Convent; P.O. Box 472; North Sydney, N.S.W. 2059; Australia. In May/June 1988 this joumal published Sister Georgine Scarpino's article "The Unemployed Sister: Challenge and Opportunity." It defines the unem-ployed sister as a woman religious physically and emotionally capable of active ministry who, despite seeking work, currently has no formal position. It gives two causes for this modem phenomenon: the location of the work and the way ministry decisions are made. In summary, Sister Georgine points out the need for congregations of women religious to develop programs within religious institutes to address both employment and unemployment. Surprisingly, no published response has followed her article until now. Since women religious have sacrificed potential material wealth, marriage, and motherhood in order to serve the Church in institutes devoted to apos-tolic works, it seems unjtist that the situations described occur. However, occur they do, and the first step toward rectifying the problems is to admit them. One then asks why they exist and seeks an appropriate cure. Sister Georgine presents causes of these problems in the United States. Although here in Australia there are general parallels to what she describes, yet the causes and thus the cures seem somewhat different here. The present writer has, in religious life, personally experienced "job search" and the special type of demoralization which occurs in close-knit communities when one is the "odd man out." I thus feel equipped to write on this subject. Regardless of the differences between countries in reasons for the phe-nomenon of the unemployed sister, I believe that the two elements most 670 Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 671 needed in addressing the problem of appropriate placement in apostolic works of religious personnel in institutes of consecrated life are: (l) a correct balance in religious leaders between their attitudes towards responsibility for the institute's authentic mission and their attitudes towards the rights of the individual members; (2) adequate use of written media, particularly those which are internal to the religious institutes and which include forums for peer review and the opportunity for subjects to respectfully challenge those directives or oversights of superiors which seem to threaten the authentic mission of the institute or the rights of its members. Mission and Person The religious state belongs to the life and holiness of the Church (canon 574), and the primary mission of the Church is the care of souls. Ecclesiastical law insists that apostolic action for institutes of consecrated life should confirm and foster union with God (c. 675, §2). The Church has Msb a social mission, namely, to support and protect people's material well-being and to inspire and promote true civilization through Christian philoso-phy. 1 In the social category of mission can be placed the apostolic pati'imony of many institutes, and the Church insists that such patrimony, or intentions of the founder, should be.preserved by the institute (c. 578). Thus, leaders of institutes of consecrated life f6unded for apostolic works, in order to justify their ongoing existence and their acceptance of candidates, need to ensure that both the corporate entity and the individual members have a correct con-cept of this patrimony as well as machinery to implement it. Bearing in mind that the Church places the person at the center of the social order, religious leaders have a r~sponsibility to see that members of the institute are placed in apostolic works which are appropriate to the tal-ents and needs of each (see Perfectae Caritatis 18). The pastoral commit-ment of a leader in an apostolic institute does not remove--but, rather, ¯ increases--her obligation towards seeing to appropriate placement of per-sonnel. Although religious leaders nowadays delegate administrators for works for which members of their institute are the trustees, a large part of the responsibility of preventing serious damage to the person through long-term lack of appropriate apostolic work must lie, by the nature of their role, with the religious leaders. Moreover, the responsibilities leaders have to individtial persons within the institute vary according to how long and in what manner they have contributed to the institute (see REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1989, p. 460). Since it is often claimed that consecrated religious are in short supply, the application of the above principles might seem straightforward. In reality 672 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 there are circumstances in the modem world in general, and here in Australia in particular, which cause it to be very difficult for congregational leaders. As in the United States, the location of the work in Australia affects the opportunity to do it, and the way ministry decisions are made in America has parallels h~re. Some details may clarify the differences between practices in the two countries. Conditions in Australia Prior to Vatican II, the missioning procedures in Australian apostolic religious congregations were relatively simple. Obedience, or the will of God, was equa~ed with doing what a superior told one to do and living where the superior told one to live. In larger Australian congregations, (over 1,000 members) often more than half were primary school teachers, and a large proportion of the remainder were either secondary teachers or nurses. Changes of residence for those "in the ranks" usually involved interchange between personnel engaged in similar works. This principle of interchange was fundamental to the smooth application of the third vow. When a difficult posting was required--for example, to isolated rural areas--younger reli-gious under perpetual vows were usually sent. Postings to apostolic works almost invariably came directly from a major superior, whether or not that superior's apostoli~c background was in the relevant work. Recruitment of staff for a school or a hospital by an administrator, or board, was foreign to most Australian apostolic religious congregations of women prior to about 1960, whether the mission was in the city or in the country. In the early 1960s a radical change occurred in the overall secondary education system in the most populous state of Australia, New South Wales. That change to what was called the Wyndham System, emphasizing science and the arts, was much more revolutionary in Catholic education for girls than it was either in state education or in Catholic education for boys. In the typical local Catholic school run by consecrated religioi~s women in Australia before that time, the girls remained in the same school, almost entirely staffed by r(ligious, from kindergarten through secondary school years. In state education and in Catholic education for boys, secondary schools were already separated at least from lower primary schools. Thus, state-school teachers and men religious in secondary education had been required to have university degrees before some larger institutes of w~men religious recognized such a need. When the more farsighted Catholic educa-tors pointed out that it would now be a problem to provide adequate sec-ondary education for the girls of less well-off families in local pa~:ish schools, some congregations saw in their higher grades a source of more Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 673 thoroughly trained religious personnel. That vain hope made difficulties in long-term planning for the transition from religious to lay staff. A further dramatic change in Australian education, which was to affect all ministries, occurred in the early 1970s. After a break of twenty years, the Australian Labor Party, headed by Prime Minister Gough Whitlam, was elected to govern the country. One of its earliest reforms was to make uni-versity education free. Although some criticized the extraordinary cost this was to the nation, the move brought the opportunity for tertiary education to the masses. Before that time, university education had been for the fortunate and the chosen. Now the initiative for tertiary education was up to the indi-vidual. The suc.c~'ss achieved by some "late starters," many in their forties and fifties, revealed how much talent had previously been unused. From about 1975, attitudes within religious congregations changed for both superi-ors and subjects. Superiors began to listen more attentively to those who did well in their tertiary studies, and subjects found their personal confidence and self-esteem strengthened by their academic achievement. With the advances made in the study of theology and the social sciences, it is now rarel~ pretended that apostolic religious life is simple, or that doing the will of God is always as clear-cut as that decided by another human being alone, whether or not that person h.appens to be a religious superior. Because of the broader scope of ministries open to women religious, modem specialization, and improved administrative techniques, the principle of interchange among personnel--which for many years had been integral to the practice of the third vow--is now becoming more and more difficult. In addition, although the median age of religious congregations is rising faster than that of the general population, many religious feel they have the right, and indeed the duty, to request proximity to aging parents. Religious congre-gations in serious decline have virtually no young sisters under perpetual vows who might be sent to isolated schools in rural areas. Since the majority of Australian sisters have reached the "winding down" stage of their lives, many now look to the cities from whence they originally came. In addition to these developments within the Church, the governments of Australia and New Zealand have acknowledged, in the form of funding, the benefits to the country as a whole of certain works of the private sector, including Catholic, and have thus made it necessary to rethink the ecclesias-tical structures for some ministries in which religious are involved. The equitable processing of government funding necessitated merging many local works, including parish schools within dioceses, into larger systems, most of whose personnel are now lay. These mergings required the develop-ment of policies acceptable to the relevant bishops, major religious superi- 674 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 ors, and state and union representatives for the management of the works, particularly those of healthcare and education. Making the policies work in practice required the establishment of sophisticated structures, which in turn required religious or lay personnel with the proper management skills. As a result, the power of the leaders of religious institutes with regard to the placement of personnel in traditional works in Australia and New Zealand has been lessened. Unlike lay staff, religious in Australia are not permitted employment status; this is not the case in New Zealand.2 Because of all of these circumstances, religious superiors have had to rethink how to preserve their true patrimony oi" authentic mission and what human cost would be involved. Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? The whole issue of the employment, or active involvement, of religious personnel leads to the question: Which is of greater importance to an insti-tute claiming to be dedicated to apostolic works, the works for which it was founded or the persons who will serve in those works? For leaders of insti-tutes whose acceptance of candidates demands that they offer them appropri-ate apostolic work, the answer is neither obvious nor simple. However, the Church has offered some very sound advice in the general area of human work. Of the documents which have come from the Vatican since the council, few could be more relevant to our times than the encyclical letter Laborem Exercens (LE) of the present pope. Pope John Paul II presents human work as "one of the characteristics that distinguish man from the rest of the crea-tures." It is "from work [that man's life] derives its specific dignity" (LE Introduction). Pope John Paul describes the "conflict between labor and cap-ital in the present phase of history" (LE 1 l f f). The Church, he points out, has always taught "the principle of labor over capital." Both are causes of pro-duction, but while capital is the mere "instrumental cause," labor is the "pri-mary efficient cause" (LE 12). In the labor-over-capital issue, Pope John Paul equates labor with per-sons and capital with the material returns from their labor. Consecrated reli-gious, even those who have employment, individually receive no capital }'or their labor. They have sacrificed this right for a stable form of living by which they can follow Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit (c. 573). In Australia and New Zealand, more than half of the person-nel in apostolic institutes made their commitment in the years when religious superiors had supreme control over placement into works, and they are now beyond the stage at which they might have arranged for alternative security Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 675 in old age upon seeing that the original system in which they sacrificed pos-sible wealth, marriage, and motherhood was beginning to break down. So the competent authorities obviously have a serious question of obligation towards them now. Many of the religious have perhaps forty years of life which they could still offer in apostolic works within the Church. Pope John Paul also writes concerning the roles of the "direct and indi-rect employer" (LE 17). By the "indirect employer" he refers to many differ-ent elements in society which make up the human environment of the worker. He says: "The role of the agents included under the title of indirect employer is to act against unemployment, which in all cases is an evil, and which, when it reaches a certain level, can become a real social disaster" (LE 18). These are strong words from the pen of the vicar of Christ. The principal agent in the concept of indirect employer for religious personnel would be the wider Church in that country. Should not, then, sections of the local Church accept part of the responsibility to address any problems of unem-ployment for religious? As well, the question should be raised within reli-gious institutes: Is it justifiable for religious superiors to accept candidates to poverty and obedience within a particular institute when those superiors do not have the power to place them in suitable work soon after profession? Perhaps declining numbers in a congregation increase the temptation for superiors to do so, and perhaps they excuse their actions with the reminder that all should "trust in God." I believe that succumbing to such a temptation would constitute power abuse of a particularly destructive kind. The abuse would surely be more damaging if others within the institute were already searching for similar employment, and were exposed to the same market forces. Power and Recruitment for Apostolic Works The power of recruitment brings us to the heart of the present discus-sion, namely, the opportunity for or deprivation of suitable apostolic work for religious personnel. It is neither possible nor desirable to completely sep-arate apostolic persons from the society in which they live. Professed mem-bers of Australian religious institutes are exposed to the forces which are part of the sophisticated living of the decade leading up to the twenty-first century. In this society ~nd age, control of recruitment for works represents power. For religious personnel, recruitment can be translated into mission-ing. Procedures for the missioning of religious should be such that they lead to the spiritual strengthening of the members and the corporate growth of the institute. The immediate practical problem to be faced by governing bodies of religious institutes is to develop policies for missioning procedures that 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 are within their power to implement, that support evangelization, that are just and equitable and adapted to the personhood of each sister, and that accord with both canon and civil law. Nowadays apostolic work for religious may be broadly placed into four categories: (1) viable institutions of which the con-gregation is the trustee, (2) charitable works of the congregation or of other ecclesiastical bodies, (3) viable institutions of other ecclesiastical bodies which pay stipends or salaries for the work of the sister, and (4) viable and nonviable works found in profane structures at the initiative of the religious. (1) Viable institutions owned by a religious institute are, in a distinctive manner, part of its patrimony. They are, as well, material assets of the insti-tute, which its leaders should, in. poverty, care for "with the diligence of a good householder" (canon 1284). Viable works of religious congregations are businesses, and for businesses to survive and attract personnel today, they must be competitive. Vatican II (Gaudium et Spes 64) teaches that eco-nomic development through technical progress "must be fostered, along with a spirit of initiative, an eagerness to create and expand enterprises," and that the purpose of productivity "must be th.e service of. the whole human per-son, viewed in terms of his or her material needs and the demands of his or her intellectual, moral, spiritual, and religious life." Pope John Paul points out that "capital cannot be separated fr6m labor" (LE 13) though, of course, in the case of religious persons, the capital is, through poverty, directed elsewhere than themselves. Religious persons, knowing that they are materially contributing towards the whole, find in the capital "confirma-tion and support" (LE 13) for the work done. Sound economics and evangel-ical poverty should go hand in hand. In order to maintain the correct balance between responsibility to the institute's mission and respect for the rights of the individual members of the institute, congregational leaders (trustees of the works) must regard the work and those involved in it as separate entities: the work itself is important regardless of who does it. Individual members must have the same percep-tion so that they may practice the spirit of poverty, or detachment. There should, accordingly, be protective structures for the ministry, including sometimes the combining of similar works under one administration so that they will continue even in cases of illness or of anyone's taking longservice leave. It is particularly important that this principle of continuation be respected when works require only one person in the local area, for example, instrumental music practices.3 Setting up protective structures for ministries in order to maintain the institute's patrimony will include policies for recruitment of staff. In those works in which a number of religious and lay people, are engaged, religious superiors have the direct power to influence Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 677 administrators in the recruitment of personnel. It stands to reason, then, that---other things, like professional qualifications, being equal--in recruit-ment for works of which the religious institute is the trustee, preference should be given to its own members. (2) The category of charitable works might include refuges for the needy which are supported by the congregation and by external donations. Without viable works there can be no charitable works. The Church's teaching on a "preferential option for the poor," by which the poor should have a preferen-tial claim on the Church's resources, cannot be initially applied without the resources. Once competent authorities decide that a charitable work is authentic to the charism of the institute, then the congregation should set up, as it should for its viable institutions, protective structures to preserve the work, whether or not there are religious personnel to staff it. Indeed, true missionaries strive to make themselves ultimately dispensable--teaching the disadvantaged how to be self-reliant and how to recover the dignity which is their right (see LE 9). Protective structures would include finance arrange-ments which can be monitored, and the work should be the source of support for the individual religious workers; that is, their salaries or stipends should be fed back into the general system. Again, for a religious institute's own charitable works, other things being equal, one would expect that members of the institute who are under civil retirement age should be considered first when positions are vacant. In Australia, women over sixty years of age (men over sixty-five) who have limited assets (a category which includes religious) are eligible to apply for the Social Security payments from the government. With the pres-ent societal structures, it seems that religious who receive Social Security should not deprive others (perhaps more deserving) of needed employment positions. In some dioceses it is established policy not to accept into stipend-ed positions religious women who are over sixty. If protective structures for an institute's works do not include allocationof salaries, or stipends which are independent of Social Security payments, then receipt of the latter would generate for the ministry an artificial security which could destabilize long-term plans for it. (3) In the third category above, which here in Australia refers principally to Catholic education, lie the greatest current problems of placement of reli-gious personnel. In most of Australia, the recruitment of staffs for nonpro-motional positions in Catholic schools is in the hands of local principals. This power evolved with the gradual acceptance of lay staffs into the parish schools previously staffed by religious. Perhaps to our discredit, it is only recently (since about 1975) that there has been widespread acceptance of lay 678 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 teachers into promotional positions. In general, the power of religious supe-riors to place personnel in diocesan works is limited to those positions which were previously held by other religious of their own congregations. Declining numbers, and thus declining positions, led to some religious being exposed to market forces for ministries. School principals, whether religious or lay, still have the power and responsibility of staffing. This has now become an excessive burden for principals of Catholic schools in the coun-try, and an excessive power for those in the city. One solution would be to have staff recruitment moved to the systemic level so that consistent staffing policies might be applied across dioceses. This might lessen the number of religious who today feel forced into the fourth category above. The exposure of some religious to market forces in the area of ministry is quite a different method of missioning than the appropriate placement of a person by a religious superior. The question should be asked: Is it just for the two types of missioning to coexist ~within the same religious institute? The answer to this important question will require great honesty and humility on the part of religious leaders. Religious exposed to market forces are some-times refused employment in diocesan works or, when school enrollments drop, dismissed by school principals of their own congregation who have the power of recruitment. Such practices are effectively structuring out of Catholic education the few teaching religious who are left, and are a serious cause of unemployment amongst religious. Some religious teachers even turn to the state school system for employment rather than lose touch with the classroom and "real life." Considering the authentic commitment which the religious have made, this alternative seems to the present writer an anomaly. On the other hand, relatively little investment has been made by the wider Australian Church over the last twenty years for the education in theology of lay teachers for Catholic schools. The above problems can now be solved only by negotiations between diocesan and religious leaders who have in mind the well-being of both the mission and the persons. As well, past oversight in planning could perhaps be avoided in the future if religious are encouraged to contribute ideas through appropriate media. Adequate Use of Media There are two levels of written communication which are particularly important in preserving a correct balance between responsibility for authen-tic mission and respect for the rights of individuals. These levels are media within the wider Church and media within religious institutes. Media within the Wider Church. Recruitment of personnel for Catholic works is effected via both the Catholic journals and the metropolitan dailies. Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 679 Like most other countries, Australia has its regular Catholic state and dioce-san papers. Because these are virtually all the Catholic community has for information on what is happening in the Church, they warrant better support and readership than they receive~ In general, editorial staffs in this country strive to maintain an adequate standard of journalism. Despite these vehicles of communication, religious leaders sometimes offer only private invitations to coveted positions which become available. They would avoid much criti-cism if they were to justify, via the Catholic media, such private invitations, especially those to academic posts in Catholic theological institutes, which remain predominantly male. Media within Religious Institutes. If any group of people ever needed to be skilled in transmitting information to each other, it would surely be the members of a religious community. Today there is frequent reference to the "role of the prophet" within religious institutes. Prophets must have vehicles in which they can deliver the message, and the printed word offers the par-ticular benefit of time for considered expression and response. I believe that religious institutes need especially these two kinds of print media: directo-ries and forums for challenge. Directories. In order for general leaders to affirm a work as part of the institute's authentic mission, they must understand clearly what the work is about and be sufficiently convinced of its value to defend it, if necessary, at the general chapter. On the other hand, if chapter delegates believe that the congregation has more ministries than they can validly affirm, they should seriously and courageously argue that systematic steps be taken towards reducing the number.4 Chapter delegates, in order to make valid contribu-tions to discussions and debates regarding works, must have information about their nature and value. Since this is so, it stands to reason that those who elected them--namely, all members of the institute--should have it too. Therefore, each apostolic institute in today's world needs its own official directOry, revised and published annually and containing information on the residence and mission of each member. The directory, which would be an implicit demographic study of the institute, should contain, as well, an annu-al financial statement of the institute and its provinces, with statistics on works which had some elements in common. I believe this would assist greatly in the appropriate placement of personnel and act as a deterrent to increasing fragmentation in ministries. Forum for Challenge. If members of religious institutes with at least parallel qualifications to lay teachers are to have the same work opportuni-ties in the institutes' traditional ministries, then positions that are open should be advertised first within "the system." Trade unions insist on this 680 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 right for their civilly employed members, so it should not be too much to expect within the religious institutes themselves. As well, religious subjects often have insights and ideas for better management which are unknown to superiors. They should have the opportunity to share them. Their ideas may be of benefit to all so that problems like unemployment may be addressed before they gain a hold. Since religious women were, for over a hundred years, to an extent indoctrinated not to express an opinion, they will need to be encouraged to contribute. Therefore, internal journals which contain forums for challenge must have a mandate from a competent authority and must be frequent and regular. When what is written in them is not uncharita-ble- that is, criticizes a policy or a structure and does not attack a particular person--and is limited in audience to professed members of the institute, then it is not a threat to loyalty. Indeed, such a forum could become a c.orpo-rate examination of conscience and could preserve or restore the balance between responsibility for authentic mission and the rights of the person. It could also act as a specific prevention or cure of the evil of unemployment within the religious institute. In educating religious to the use of an internal journal, it should be pointed out that the institute, being made up of human beings, is quite subject to error and that it could be harmful to their beioved congregation to write only of its virtues and to overlook its faults, including possibly incorrect policies with regard to the placement of personnel. Conclusion More than twenty years have passed now since religious congregations first experienced declining numbers and lay teachers became an ac.cepted part of Catholic education here in Australia, so there has be~n adequate time to face up to problems which have occurred regarding recruitment for specif-ic works. Sister Georgine recommends that a program "address all the dimensions of employment and unemployment." However, "job clubs" and "comprehensive programs" are unlikely to take shape until religious leaders acknowledge that the problem is there. I believe that leaders also have the duty to provide those engaged in the works with information and reflection based on surveys or particular works so that they will know what the scope of that work will be in the future, how long the work itself is likely to sur-vive, and what the superiors are planning in that regard. There is no guarantee that any of the above proposals are a complete cure for the evil of unemployment within religious life. However, endeavor-ing to maintain a correct balance between responsibility f~r the mission and respect for the persons of the members of the institute goes to the causes of the evil and is more likely to effect a long-term cure. The use of appropriate Mission or Consecrated Religious Person? / 681 media is a method of achieving the "maximum feasible participation" in effecting a cure. We are living in a world at the brink of the third Christian millennium. It is a world which needs the commitment of consecrated reli-gious life as much as ever and perhaps more than ever. A life wholly dedi-cated to contemplation is a rare gift. However, there is plenty of evidence to indicate that apostolic institutes of consecrated life have an important place in contemporary society. The chief characteristic of Christian moral doctrine besides its Christocentric orientation is the integration of love and justice, the latter being "the strong and firm will to give to each his due.''5 For a reli-gious woman who has sacrificed potential marriage, motherhood, and career in order to serve the Church in an institute devoted to apostolic ministry, unemployment is a serious injustice. The Church and religious institutes should work together for both prevention and cure. NOTES I See R. Hoffman, "Mission," in The New Catholic Encyclopedia. 2 For the purpose of the present article, the word employment will sometimes refer to apostolic work, whether or not the religious has employment status in the civil law. 3 The present writer admits to a certain bias towards instrumental music teaching. I believe that this work is of great importance to the liturgy of the Church. One of the long-term effects of the mergings of parish schools and the employment of lay teach-ers in Australian Catholic education was the death of much traditional music prac-tice, which was not absorbed into the diocesan systems and had few protective structures. It seems to me that the most important strategy for preserving the practice of music is to remove revenue management from the hands of the individual teacher. Otherwise the work tends to become like that of a self-employed person--a situation which is not compatible with either poverty or obedience. Skilled musicians in parishes attract worshipers. I believe that budgeting towards producing musicians for the Church should be part of its primary mission. 4 The idea of permitting novices to have unlimited scope in "working out" their future ministry is, I believe, a recipe for disaster; apostolic congregations already have difficulty in staffing missions recognized as authentic to their charism. 5 New Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 8, p. 70. Quotation from St. Thomas Aquinas (ST 2 a2ae, 58.1). Inner Africa: A ,Journey of Conversion Susan Rakoczy, 1.H.M. Sister Susan Rakoczy, I.H.M., began ministry in South Africa in October 1989 and currently lectures in systematic theology and spirituality at St. Joseph's Theological Institute in Cedara. Her address is 21 Buchanan Street; 3290 Howick; South Africa. It was about 2:30 in the morning as the door of the plane was opened. The humid and steaming air of West Africa enveloped me as I was pushed down the stairs by the crowd onto the tarmac of Ougadougou airport. Swept along with women carrying immense bondles on their heads, children looking for their parents, and determined men striding forward, 1 suddenly thought, "I am on holy ground--I am in Africa." But if I had bent down to kiss the ground I would have been trampled--better to let myself be borne by the flow of humanity to the small airport terminal and the arrival procedures. In the rush and confusion of all the formalities I could sense that I had now entered something deeper than my own self for 1 was touching "mother Africa." Later, as we stowed our luggage in a friend's car for the drive to the hostel to spend what was left of the night I wondered, "What have I done with my life?" What indeed. ? The experiences of my years in Ghana (1982 to 1988) provided many different answers to that question. Most essentially they led me into the depths of conversion Which I can describe now as "inner Africa" for I soon learned that "mother Africa" would ask everything of me. The Call Some people dream all their lives of serving outside their own country, but that was not my experience. Not until I was finishing my doctoral studies in religion at Catholic University in 1980 did I sense a call to serve beyond North America. Through the months of preparation, prayer, and discussion 682 Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 683 which preceded my journey to Ghana, people often asked, "Why are you going?" Slowly I clarified my own sense of call, speaking of my desire to share something of my gifts and education with the "young Church" of Africa. As I read about Africa and its needs, struggles, and promise I became aware of a continent and Church reaching towards maturity of faith and vision. Somehow I sensed very deeply that I wanted to be part of that. But it is not enough just to desire to serve in Africa. It is an immense continent, large enough to contain the continental United States two-and-a-half times. I received an invitation to teach in the major seminary in northern Ghana (our congregation had come to that section of the country in 1976) and so the plan was to come and spend a year getting acquainted with the culture and life of the people and then to begin teaching in 1983. As with many people who come to Africa, things did not turn out quite as I had planned. While I did work in Navrongo, a small town in Ghana for a year, the seminary door never opened wide enough to admit a woman theologian. But life at the Centre for Spiritual Renewal, a retreat center in the city of Kumasi, gave me a much wider scope for ministry with opportunities in retreats and spiritual direction, intensive leadership formation with prayer group leaders, and writing and editing, all of which enabled me to enter more deeply into Ghanaian life and culture. All the preparation I tried to do, while helpful in some ways, was still inadequate to the challenge of Africa. After I arrived I realized that what I needed was a radical openness, a sense of adventure, a desire to meet the continent and its people on their own terms. As the day of departure neared my own sense of expectancy of what was ahead increased. Shortly before I left I spent a few days on retreat at our com-munity hermitage. The entries in my journal for those days speak of praying for courage and joy and experiencing great wonder at this call I had received. The night before I left I wrote: Tomorrow~departure. I feel more than ready. Mostly I feel a deep free-dom and joy which has placed fear on the sidelines. Somehow 1 know I will meet the Lord--in and of his people--in ways never before imag-ined and experienced. And that is enough--more than enough--to move me across oceans and cultures. 1 go in utter joy and freedom. As the plane left United States soil the next day, ! remember how my whole spirit moved forward towards Africa. Soon I descended the steps of that plane that hot morning in Ougadougou. Inner and outer Africa now began. Call To Conversion As I reflect on my years in Ghana, I experience them in the images of 684 / Review for Religious; September-October 1991 "outer" and "inner" Africa. The first was the living of African reality in terms of my ministry; it describes what I did, with whom I lived, the rich-ness of my experience in those years. But "inner Africa" was the core of it all. My years in Ghana were fore-most an experience of conversion--a turning from, in order to turn to some-thing else, something which challenged everything I thought I was, knew, and had within me. Paul Robb, S.J., describes well the essence of conversion as a journey into the unknown: It is difficult to endure conversion because it seems to put into jeopardy our very lifestyle and ministry, but even more so because we sense that it touches the very roots of our life. It reaches deep into our being---our personality, our choices, our very self. It touches in places that are unknown, places where we are strangers. To begin a journey into an unfamiliar, haunting land is frightening, but not to know whether we will find life or death, blessing or curse, at the end can be terrifying. To enter the journey with all its uncertainties proves the possibility of finding life and life in abundance. Not to begin the journey, but to harden and steel oneself against it, is already death.2 The images are true and strong and evocative of my own African experi-ence. In my first weeks, as I entered "outer Africa" in its immensity with all the challenges of a new culture, 1 also experienced a sense of inner chaos. Some days I felt as if I were drowning, the waters of Africa enveloping me, About two months after I arrived I realized that I had to truly "walk through the door of Africa" ifI were to survive. In my journal I wrote: I have straddled first- and third-world existence in great disharmony. Today I felt that part of this is ended--it is within Africa now--that (God's) grace will work, from the inside out. It is as though 1 have now truly entered Africa. Once I had walked onto the solid ground of Africa never again did I feel this inner chaos. The work of conversion could now begin. These conver-sions were multiple and touched every dimension of my life as a North American woman of faith in a radically different culture: My first-world perspective was turned upside down; I was called from idealism to realism; I moved from giving to receiving; 1 experienced strength becoming weakness; I passed from death to life--from myself to God alone. Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 685 First-World Perspective Turned Up-Side Down We come to a new culture as we are. If we are even halfway faithful to the challenges of cross-cultural experience, our own self-understanding of our home culture will change dramatically. This I experienced very pro-foundly. I discovered that I had brought a very large amount of cultural bag-gage with me. It was disconcerting to be criticized as "too American" at times--that is, too self-assured, too curious, too organized, too conscious of time; too ready with my questions and opinions. What was salutary, if painful, was the opportunity to allow my world-view to shift into new patterns. I first learned that the United States is not the center of the universe, even if it often acts that way and its military and eco-nomic policies impact the rest of the planet in such dramatic ways. It is one country among many, with its own strengths and weaknesses. I learned also how diverse and beautiful are the gifts of the people of other countries. 1 especially experienced this gift in the opportunities 1 had to meet people from so many different parts of the world and to enter into something of the richness of the world's cultural heritage, to see how differently people can feel, think, and organize human life. There were two central ways in which my world began to be "turned upside down": my experience of poverty and my attempts to learn new dimensions of the common life and hospitality. Poverty is a hard and often a "loaded" word. We fight it and yet some-how sense that in being poor we will find the key to new life in solidarity with others. The Gospel's call to detachment from riches and from every-thing that would hinder our response to the invitation from Jesus to disciple-ship has always challenged Christians profoundly. To come to Ghana was certainly to see poverty and share in it in some small ways. It was indeed a shock for me to see the extent of poverty and marginality: lack of clean and safe water for so many, schools with few books, hospitals and clinics without supplies, limited transportation, rudi-mentary communication, erratic electricity. Some of the practical details of my new lifestyle were a challenge. It was "farewell" to dependable electrici-ty, unlimited water, telephone service, easily available fuel, and to book-shops, movies, and regular postal service. It was, on the other hand, "hello" to a sense of living on the "edge of things" at times--lanterns and attempts to get kerosene for them, recycling every possible drop of water, limited food supplies, simple amusements, and difficulties in communication. All these changes were hard in different ways. I wrote: I am struck again by the gap between theory and practice in my life, for 686 / Review for Religious, September-October 1991 example, to talk about poverty, being with the poor--and then not to embrace poverty wholeheartedly, as indeed Jesus did. The:conversion to acceptance of and a certain ease with my new simple lifestyle took time. I never did get used to the erratic postal system and its consequences for poor communication with family and friends. On the other hand, as the years went by I gradually experienced in myself a certain ability to live with much less and to find in that a real freedom. To have to do things simply and patiently experience inconvenience gradually became a way for me to share some sense of solidarity with the poor who have no options and no outside resources. I was becoming comfortable with the simplicity of Ghanaian life and my heart was slowly becoming centered on what was most essential. I was not poor in the way the ordinary Ghanaian is poor but I did come to experience in small ways the shocks and diminishments of poverty. 1 also learned new meanings of community life and hospitality because African life is lived in common. The extended family of several generations living together in one compound has been the normal pattern in rural areas. Daily activities take place outside, and people are inside only when it is rain-ing, or at night, or if they are sick. The atmosphere in both urban and rural areas is one of physical and psychological openness to friend and stranger. Entering into such a different cultural atmosphere of hospitality and availability also challenged my Western habits. In the West we live inside; people come into our lives generally at our convenience thanks to the cultur-al presuppositions that one lives by calendars and schedules. But in a situa-tion where the culture says "welcome" all that changes. People walk into one's life often unannounced, and the person at the door could bring the unexpected pleasure of a friend coming to visit or someone arriving for a retreat without any previous communication or someone coming to ask for prayer---or the bishop with overseas visitors. 1 learned to be always ready to adapt to people's needs and to realize that my life and my time were really no longer my own, Prayer time was often interrupted; reading and study had to be immediately abandoned to answer someone's need. Privacy became very relative since, although I had my own room and office, my own space and time were now the resources of the people I tried to serve. These demands taught me much about my own selfishness, the need to have my own way, my own schedule, my own plans. I never did become totally comfortable with being physically and psychologically available at all times. Yet gradually I learned to absorb something of the spirit of welcome and hospitality which are so important in Ghanaian culture and to live them in my halting way. Inner Africa: A Journey of Conversion / 687 The first dimension of conversion in my life then was a shift in con-sciousness from being a woman of the first world to one living in the third world and trying to enter fully into life there. My American perspective and cultural habits were turned upside down and inside out. The result was a double-consciousness for I saw, and felt, and experienced first- and third-world realities at the same time. Nothing could or would be the same again. From Idealism to Realism Soon after I came to Ghana I realized what a "good press" the African Church has in the West. The reading I had done before I arrived had given me the overwhelming impression of a "young Church" on its way to real inculturation as a true African expression of the Christian faith, with signifi-cant achievements already made in liturgy and catechesis. It is true that inculturation is happening, theological development and reflection are proceeding, liturgy is more authentically African in some places--but the pace of everything is slow and that is the pace of Africa. Idealism about the Church was gradually replaced by a realism about the Church as it is. To be a "young" Church is exactly that. In the southern part of Ghana modern Catholic

Issue 63.1 of the Review for Religious, 2004. This was the first issue of the Review as a quarterly publication. ; Education Objectives Human Development Eucharistic Ce~nteri~ng Saintly Models Spiritual Growth QUARTERLY 63.1 2004 Review for Religious helps people, respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2004 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm 'Judy Sharp Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 63.1 2004 6 Secularism, Justice, and J~suit Higher Education-- Are They All the Same? Martin R. Tripole sJ questions the adequacy'of the justice agenda in Jesuit education and proposes to spell out the task for educators in establishing "the justice of God's kingdom" among students. 21 32 The Spiritual Development of Individuals Stanislaw Glaz SJ points out that spiritual development can proceed correctly only on the condition that we discard the illusions that we have created about our lives and likewise discard vain expectatio~ns for the future. Breaking Stereotypes Ignatius Jesudasan sJ writes about stereotypes from his Indian and Jesuit experience and calls us to reflect on our efforts to move beyond such prejudice. 40 53 A Charism Illumined: Eucharistic Anamnesis and "Viva Memoria" Hildegard Magdalen Pleva OSSR develops the crucial feature of both anamnesis and "living memory" as the ability to make past events and the person of Jesus present and active in our time. Eucharistic Devotion in the Rising Generation Randall S. Rosenberg reflects upon the desire of young people to spend time in loving contemplation and adoration of the Eucharist as a sign of growth in an integral faith life. Review for Religious 58 Teresa of Avila and Friendship Susan B. Cordsen reflects on Teresa of Avila's struggle with friendship. Teresa has much to say to us today as we struggle with what it is to be friends of Christ and friends of one another. 66 Five Faces of Rosalie Rendu Robert P. Maloney CM reflects many of the numerous new blesseds and saints of Pope John Paul's pontificate are not well known. This article attempts to acquaint readers with one of them. Growth in Faith, Hope, and Love Normandie Gaitley SSJ discovered through the setback of apparent failure and rejection God's voice in the midst of the storm calling to a deeper faith, hope, and love. 84 Mountain Caves Carolyn Humphreys OCDS describes our growth in intimacy with God through the imagery of our exeriences in entering the darkness of spiritual caves. 4 Prisms 91 Canonical Counsel: Papal Enclosure: Further Considerations 99 Book Reviews 63.1 2004 R first things first. As we begin a new year, it may be helpful to observe what is first in our lives. For example, we believe that the Eucharist is central to our living the paschal mystery. Yet we might look at whether or how it is first in our religious practice. Jesus provides us with two helps--the first, a word, and the second, an action. During the Last Supper events recorded in the synoptic Gospels, Jesus makes reference to the covenant: "This is the new covenant in my blood." Covenant, a specific agreement practice among the Middle-Eastern peoples, took on a new depth of meaning when the Israelite people understood that God had made a covenant with them] To celebrate this new relationship between God and a people he calls "peculiarly his own," the biblical covenant is sealed with the blood of a sacrificed animal. Blood--just as in out'modern-day blood transfusions--means life, not death. When the priest sprinkled blood first on the altar representing God and then on the people, this blood ritual symbolized the sharing of life between God and God's people. When Jesus says the word "This is the new covenant in my blood," he is taking the symbolic covenant of the Jewish faith and providing an undreamt-of reality to his word. In Eucharistic communion, we find ourselves given the food and drink of everlasting life. Our veins, our very bodies, our very beings are coursing with the "blood" of this new covenant of shared life, the Review for Religious Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, Son of God and Son of Mary, the new Paschal Lamb. The action Jesus performs as key to our understanding is recorded only in John's Gospel account of the Last Supper. The action is Jesus' washing of the disciples' feet. When Peter objects, Jesus replies that, if he does not wash his feet, then Peter will have no relationship with him. In the face of such a harsh consequence, Peter immediately reverses his position and desires to be washed totally clean as a guest made'welcome from the travel of dusty roads--not just his feet, but his hands and face as well. For the Johannine community and for the church in her Holy Thursday celebration, this washing of the feet dramatizes the central mystery of the Eucharist, a sharing of life, giving it away, a life-in-service--"I have given you an example," Jesus says. Eucharist, meaning celebration of holy Mass, and Eucharist, meaning the sacrament of holy communion, include both word and action. God in Jesus is speaking a word of love in sharing divine life with us, bringing us from being just God's creatures to being truly sons and daughters, members of God's family. But in Eucharist God is also involving us in his very action of sharing, and so we find ourselves moved not only, to share our life with God but also, like God, to share life with all those whom our life touches--all of them our brothers and sisters! Eucharist is key to Jesus on the cross--to pay whatever price love costs--to give over his life to God and to give over his life to us. Easter, too, finds its key in Eucharist--Jesus sharing resurrected life, his Father's gift to him, with all of us so that we too might continue to rejoice in and share this life forever. Entering into Eucharist, then, we participate in the paschal mystery, the mystery of the dying and rising of Jesus, the pattern of living the divine cost of sharing life given in love. . .David L. Fleming SJ 63.1 2004 MARTIN R. TRIPOLE ,,Secularism, Justice,. and Jesuit Higher Educationm Are They All the Same? Whether or not justice is present in Jesuit higher education seems recently to have become a mat-ter of high priority. In 2000 every Jesuit college or university in the nation was pressed to send representatives to a special conference in Santa Clara, California, to examine the extent to which justice was being promoted in the policies and curricula of Jesuit institutions, with a view to implementing stronger justice agendas. More than three hundred delegates attended. In October 2002 a follow-up gathering was held in Chicago. Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education recently devoted its entire spring 2000 issue to social justice.1 In July 2002 in Philadelphia, the fifth annual meeting of Col-leagues in Jesuit Business Education focused on "The Paradox of Globalization and Economic Justice." And an international conference on justice and globalization for. leaders in Jesuit Martin R. Tripole SJ last wrote for us in September-October 2000. His address is St. Josepl'i's University; 5600 City Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Review for Religi.ous higher education was held in November 2002 at Santa Clara University. The perception seems to be that Jesuit higher edu-cation is not adequately committing itself to the pursuit of justice and something must be done about it. The pressure has grown to make the promotion of justice-- in an institution's mission statement and curricular offer-ings-- the litmus test for qualifying as a Jesuit institution. So much has this conjunction of justice with Jesuit edu-cation become the standard parlaffce at Jesuit institu-tions today that, when lay administrators, faculty members, and students refer to Jesuit education, they immediately identify it with the promotion of justice. In short, if your institution is not promoting justice, it is not Jesuit. Many educators question this symbiosis.of justice and Jesuit education. Is the purpose of Jesuit education to promote justice? Is it possible to fashion Jesuit edu-cation according to a justice model? Doesn't a liberal education in the Jesuit tradition have dimensions far deeper and more important? This article questions the adequacy of the justice agenda in Jesuit education, arguing from (1) the under-standing of the Jesuit mission as approved by the 34th General Congregation (GC34) of the Society of Jesus in 1995, (2) the inherent inability of the iustice agenda to .maintain the Catholic and Jesuit character of Jesuit higher education, and (3) the compelling challenges cre-ated in the world since 11 September 2001, in relation to which the justice mission falls seriously short. Justice and the Jesuit Mission at GC34 The identification of Jesuit education with the pro-motion of justice stems from the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (GC32) in Rome in 1975. It decreed that the Jesuit mission is "the service of7 63.1 2004 Tripole * Secularism, Justice, and Jesuit Higher Ed faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement.''2 Though the congregation never defined what it meant by justice, most commentators noted the 1960s and 1970s political- and social-activist thinking reflected in the decrees and have rightly concluded that the congregation was referring to social justice. In effect, the congregation asserted in the key for-mulation cited above that every branch of the Jesuit mis-sion had somehow to justify its existence by how it promoted justice. That was the way things stood until 1995, when GC34 was convened. One would never guess, from the continuing emphasis placed upon jus-tice today, that GC34 broadened and deepened the for-mulation of the Jesuit mission so that it now includes much more that is explicitly Christian. Though GC34's thinking included social justice,3 the justice that is linked to the service of faith is now under-stood to be the scriptural and theological understand-ing of justice as "the justice of God's kingdom,':4 The aim of our mission received from Christ. is the service of faith. The integrating principle of our mission is the inseparable link between faith and the promotion of the justice of the Kingdom. In this pre-sent congregation we want to deepen and extend, in a more explicit way, the Society's awareness of those integral dimensions of our mission to which [GC32's] Decree 4 drew attention and which are now reaching maturity in our experience and in our present min-istries. (2:14) Central'to GC34's understanding of faith and the "justice of God's kingdom" is that faith entails sharing in the church's mission of evangelization and therefore pro-claiming the gospel and bringing its teaching into every culture and society (2:15). United with Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit, and operating "within the total evangelizing mission of the church" (2:3), Jesuits are called "to promote the kingdom in all its aspects," Review for Religious including destroying the "structures of sin" and fulfilling the universal "desire to find God" and to "live by his gospel in all its implications" (2:11). The congregation, recognizing that the roots of injus-tice are to be found not only in "economic structures" but also in "cultural attitudes," explicitly states that jus-tice will "flourish" in society only when a deeper cultural transformation is achieved (2:17). Social justice is in a sense a by-product of the transforming power of "Christ's explicitly liberating presence" within history (4:8). Through inculturation, the "liberating power of the gospel" (4:3) be-comes present in every soci-ety by touching its "structural, cultural, and religious aspects with its light" (2:18). Clearly, by shifting its focus to the need to transform cultures, and integrating that effort into the church's total evan-gelizing mission, GC34 has found a deeper and mtre sat-isfying way to correct social problems than by focusing on the promotion of justice alone. Few would deny that promoting social justice is a work "integral". to the church's life. But it is another thing to assert, as GC32 seemed to do, that promoting social justice is an "absolute requirement" of every effort to serve-the gospel. Jesus seems repeatedly to have dis-tinguished the service of faith from the promotion of justice. At the beginning of his ministry, he made faith in his teaching and repentance for sin the appropriate response to the coming of tlie kingdom (Mk 1:15). He stressed the saving power of faith (Mr 9:22, Jn 3:16) and of baptism (Mk 16:14, Jn 3:5) and taught the parable of the talents (Mt 25:14-30), all without alluding to justice. And is it not fitting to proclaim the need for dis- Few would deny that promoting social justice is a work "integral" to the church's life. 9 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, 3~ustice, and yesuit Higher Ed cipleship of Christ (Mk 1:16-20), or the soteriological sig-nificance of Jesus' healing actions (see Mk 2:1-12; 3:7- 12), as well as the redemptive significance of his death and resurrection (1 Co 15), without mentioning justice? Jesus calls his disciples to a life of service of God and others. But the service Jesus intended is broader than promoting justice and does not call for such promotion unless just relations are lacking. Service, however, always calls for love. The quintessence of Christian living is found in our expression of love for one another modeled on Jesus' life of love (Jn 15:12). This love is manifested most of all in laying down one's life for another, as Jesus did On 15:13). It is promoting love, therefore, that would be the more adequate hallmark of the Jesuit mission. Jesuit and Catholic Presence in Jesuit Higher Education Understanding the Jesuit mission as inculturating the gospel has greater implications for Jesuit education than promoting justice does. According to GC34, a Jesuit university "must be out-standing in its human, social, spiritual, and moral for-mation" of student~ (17:11). Borrowing from Pedro Arrupe, superior ger~e.ral\of the Society of Jesus from 1965 to 1983, the congregation ranks, as a priority apos-tolate of the Society of Jesus, "theological reflection" upon "humanism, freedom,~ m~ss culture, economic development, and violence" (16:7). The congregation~ recalls that the early Jesuits "linked Christian catechesis to an education in classical humanism, art,and theater, to make their students versed both in faith and in cul-ture" (4:10), and specifically affirms that in the educa-tional apostolate Jesuits "have a special role to play in linking Christian faith" to contemporary movements in culture (4:28). The justice mission is not broad enough to handle these goals. Review for Religious In the light of GC34's understanding of the Jesuit mission, we would do well to examine the findings of "Jesuit Education 21," the last major conference on Jesuit higher education in the United States. Held at St. Joseph's University in June 1999, the conference brought together over three hundred laypersons and Jesuits from around the world, with more than eighty presentations made by prominent educators. A close examination of the conference proceedings5 indicates much of what is troubling Jesuit higher education today. They show that more is needed to restore the Jesuit and Catholic char-acter of Jesuit institutions than promoting justice can provide. Though their concerns were distinctly pro-Jesuit and pro-Catholic, the participants never came to a consensus on what being Jesuit and Catholic means or how Jesuit and Catholic values, whatever they might be, can be pre-served. A reviewer of the published proceedings called them "fascinating" and "indisl~ensabl~e' readin_g, yet admitted he could not conclude fro---~-~hem_ what Jesuit education stood for.6 This inability to state with clarity what it means to be Jesuit and Cath_olic_may reflect an erosion of identity already underway in Jesui_~t and Catholic colleges and universities. The proceedings provide good grounds tofear that the secularization that oc~ in many Pro___testant schools in the early 20th-century is well under___way at Jesuit and other Catholic institutions as_w__ell.____A basis for this view may be found, for exa--m-~le, in ~he distinction admissions recruiters.have frequency_ drawn-between Jesuit values and Catholic ide~-~ity. Many_ said they emphasize the former and do.wnpla._y or ignore the latter as a matter of policy. But why?-The distinction, they said, enabled them to iden6fy Jesuit schools to potential applicants as institutions promoting humanistic values, rather than as schools fostering Catholic identity. The 11 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, Justice, and Jesuit Higher Ed effect was to make being Jesuit distinguishable from belonging to the Catholic Church. That recruiters make such a distinction as part of their effort to appeal to potential students may indicate how ingrained among students as well as among recruiters secularization has already become. The erosion of Catholic identity may be even more evident in the hiring of new faculty members increas-ingly for their professional competence and their sup-port of humanistic values rather than for an interest in fostering a Catholic culture on the campus. One admin-istrator at the conference, bluntly admitted without com-ment or apology that Jesuit institutions will no longer accept support for the Catholic mission as a factor to be considered in the hiring of new faculty. He argued that Jesuit distinctiveness is now identified with humanistic values such as seeing the world, as sacramental, showing love by deeds, and searching for ultimate meaning, and that, when the Jesuit character is understood that way, "Jesuit education can and will thrive independently of the fortunes of the institutional Catholic Church." He went on to say that, "if you were to tell faculty tomorrow to 'hire for mission' with an emphasis on Catholic rather than, or over and above, Jesuit, I know what will hap-pen . The present faculty simply will. not do it" (Francis Fennell, Proceedings, p. 446). The peremptory nature of these remarks indicates how difficult it would be to reverse the trend toward secular humanism, for the faculty are the primary decision makers for hiring in their departments. Deeper theological roots of secular humanism may be found in the increasing acceptance of a principle never accepted by the Catholic Church, that faith is a private matter. This perspective includes relegating faith matters to the theology department and campus.ministry, rather than considering a Catholic culture something all Uni- Review for Religious versity personnel can share in. Theology departments, however, eager to be accepted as legitimately academic and hospitable to pluralistic thinking, are increasingly reluctant to identify themselves with matters of faith, thereby adding to the alienation of faith from the life of the institution (Avery Dulles, Proceedings, pp. 168-169). Does Promoting Justice Foster Secularism? Jesuits may themselves have much to do with this incursion of secularism into Jesuit universities, for an identification of Jesuit values with secular humanism has been widely accepted in Jesuit circles. The favored jar-gon for what Jesuit products should be--"men and women for others"--would be an acceptable character-ization of ideal products of any secular university. Are there any institutions in favor of self-centered graduates who want to promote injustice? The common phrase makes it difficult to distinguish a good secular humanist from a good graduate of any Jesuit institution. Jesuit spirituality promotes "finding God in all things." The principle, admirable in itself and valuable for people who wish to implement their faith, is problematic when put into the hands of secular humanists, since it allows not only faith in any god whatsoever, but also the marginal-ization of the true God over against a quasi-sacral aura that envelops all things. Support for secularization has unwittingly come from equating the Jesuit mission with the promotion of justice, an equation that can be made even when faith is absent~ Such an equation allows the reduction of the Christian faith to secularly acceptable standards and makes what is specific to being Catholic optional: belief in the triune God, commitment to Jesus Christ, and fidelity to the church and its teachings. When, therefore, Jesuit edu-cation understands its mission as promoting justice, someone must ask: Is such a mission capable of preserv- 13 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, 3°~stice, and Jesuit Higher Ed ing the Catholic character of our institutions? It would seem not. The promotion of justice is put on a par with other advocacy movements-- not life-altering efforts, but efforts that fit into the little compartment in our lives that supports Charitable causes. Catholic Identity and the Lives of Our Students The justice-advocacy movement has the weakness of being normally integrated into the larger framework of self-identity, even when it is most effective. The promotion of justice is put on a par with other advocacy movements-- not life-altering efforts, but efforts that fit into the little compartment in our lives that supports charitable causes. We contribute to the muscular dystrophy program on Labor Day, our hearts go out to Michael J. Fox and his cam-paign for curing Parkinson's disease, the more youthful among us dance the night away to seek financial contri-butions for the fight against AIDS--but afterwards we return to the secular aims and purposes that motivate our humdrum daily lives. Self-chosen secular aims and agendas are not likely to be altered much by participation in special advocacy movements, for many students take it for granted that in any case the measure of success is the worldly standard of money, power, and reputation. Against such a back-drop, advocacy causes fulfill the contribution to human-ity that political correctness and secularized Christianity deem necessary for those who would be model citizens and good Christians, but they do not call for renouncing worldly values in the ways that Christ proposed in his Sermon on the Mount. Review for Religious Reducing Jesuit education to a justice syndrome, then, is inadequate. In order to work, such a syndrome would need to be integrated into a life-altering motivating prin-ciple. In seeking to make our students eager simply to pursue social justice, we fail to provide them with the Christian rationale for being committed to such activity. The rationale that the older generation of Catholics accepts as a Christian truism--that sharing a common humanity should make human beings concerned for the welfare of others--cannot be taken for granted in our students. Many of them operate on a sense of worth the root of which is their aggressive pursuit of self-interest. For them, being a "person for others" is a sop for the weak and sentimental. Many people thought that 1960s altruism would of itself promote everywhere an array of humanistic values consistent with the goals of Chris-tianity. We now know that this did not happen. Only faith in Jesus Christ can bring in its train the life-altering principles dynamic enough for consistent and truly humanistic, humane, human activity. Reducing Christianity to a sort of social justice makes faith appear redundant and irrelevant (when in fact full Christian faith is central). Identifying Jesuit education with pro-moting .justice caters to this seeming redundancy and calls into question any need for any sort of Catholic edu-cation and any Christianity that demands a faith com-mitrnent to Jesus Christ. It is not accidental that, as years pass, our students are less and less inclined to call them-selves Catholic or practice a Christian way of life. In effect, they have been programmed by a system that has made Christian commitment and Catholic living mar-ginal or obsolete. Justice and Ignatius's Educational Goals ls an education geared to the promotion of justice consistent with St. Ignatius's goals? Many do not think so. 63. I 2004 Tripole * Secularism, Justice, and yesuit Higher Ed Surely no one disputes that Ignatius supported the integration of the virtue of justice into the lives of stu-dents at Jesuit institutions. In a letter written to his nephew Antonio de Araoz in 1551, Ignatius indicates that education in Jesuit sch'ools should lead to positions of influence for the good of society--either in specifically Christian activity, such as being a priest, or in govern-mental and other administrative positions of~authority. He specifically mentions that persons educated in Jesuit schools may benefit society by taking on roles in "the administration of justice." But Ignatius never saw such activity as intrinsically self-motivating. Whatever field of endeavor graduates might enter, they were to be moti-vated by the desire for "God's greater service" and that of "Christ, our eternal salvation." 7 George E. Ganss shows, in his classic study Saint Ignatius' Idea of a Jesuit University,s that Ignatius under-stood his goals for the education of non-Jesuft students as part and parcel of the Christian life envisioned in his Spiritual Exercises. There Ignatius indicates that human beings are "created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by means of doing this to save their souls," and that everything else is created for them for these purposes.9 That same outlook on life is °brought to bear upon Part Four of Ignatius's Constitutions, which treats of the goals of his colleges (high schools) and universi-ties: "The end of the Society [of Jesus] and of its stud-ies is to aid our fellowmen to the knowledge and love of God and to the salvation of their souls." Since Ignatius saw the study of theology as "the means most suitable to this end," he declared that "principal emphasis ought to be put upon it.''l° Ganss argues, however, that the inculcation of Christian values was not left simply to the work of the-ology professors, but was integral to the life of the entire university.~l For Ignatius, all of life is brought into focus Review for Religio us through a personal encounter with Jesus Christ and a commitment to Christ's mission by sharing in the paschal mystery of his death and resurrection. It would have been unthinkable~ for Ignatius to set up educational insti-tutions without orienting them and their students toward this same encounter and mission. Jesuit Education after 11 September 2001 Perhaps the most serious question to be asked of advocates of justice education is whether their agenda, in the light of the events of 9/11 and the gravity of the priest sex-abuse scandal, meets the chal-lenge of our time. The roots of the horrendous actions of the Middle East terrorists on that September day may be found on many different levels--economic, social, cultural, and religious. Surely an enlightened awareness of the inadequacy of the attempts of the United States to promote justice throughout the world needs to be brought to bear upon the kind of response we make. But, whether one is Palestinian or Israeli, European or American, Democrat or Republican, the issue is not whether to promote justice (who is in favor of being unjust?), but how to discern and implement practical methods that will satisfy people's yearnings for justice and peace. Faith does not endow Christian educators with the ability to discern what such methods might be--they continue to elude the best of political-scientists of whatever faith-- The issue is not whether to promote justice (who is in favor of being unjust ?), but how to discern and implement practical methods that will satisfy people's yearnings for justice and peace. 17 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, Justice, and Jesuit Higher Ed but it does provide a motive for see,king the best of meth-ods and choosing honestly the most,prudent moral action. The issues on the table since the'attacks of 9/11 are fundamental. The very survival of humanity seems to be at stake. It would be naive and platitudinous for Christian educators to think they have made their specific contri-bution merely by calling for the promotion of justice. The stakes are far too high, the dimensions of the prob-lem too great, for talk on that level to be adequate. The world has a right to expect more from people of faith. The sex scandal among the clergy also calls for a major rethinking of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. If those who have been singled out by the church to be model artisans of a new humanity have instead become instruments of dehumanization, more is de-manded to correct .the situation than a call for justice. To respond to the demands of our day, Christians are being called to a thorough reformation of their lives--abandoning self-interest and recentering their lives in the Christ who renounced himself on the cross for the salvation of the world. Christians must become persons who are themselves transformed and are at work revamping the human psyche so that it is motivated no longer by secular and material drives alone. The goal is a transformation of culture so that the person of Christ and the pattern of his life will willingly be accepted as the ideal of what it means to be human. What other efforts could Christians be expected to make? The mission for Catholic and Jesuit educators today is to go all the way or not go at all. What we need to promote is not simply justice, but a new visiofi of humanity where God's Spirit is recognized as the power driving generous and beneficial human action, rather than as optional or marginal to it, Our goal cannot merely be social justice, but the justice that destroys the Review for Religious demonic forces of the world, restores community between the human race and God, and ennobles human dignity by seeing it as a sharing in divine life. Our goal must be to spread the fire that Jesus came to earth to ignite, brightening people's minds and warming their hearts (Lk 12:49). This is what our students need to receive in our schools. The task for educators in Jesuit universities is to establish "the justide of God's kingdom" among our stu-dents. Instead of equating the Lucan principle "Blessed are the poor" with a call for economic and political jus-tice, we need to hear the Matthean principle "Blessed are the poor in spirit," which calls us to walk humbly with the Lord so that in the Spirit we can create even on earth the life of his kingdom. Doing that, we may even succeed in showing terrorists that Christ is the redeemer of the world and that faith in him is the very way to God and to wholeness and peace in human relationships. Notes ~ Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education 19 (Spring 2001), "After Justice." 2 Decree 4, "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice," §2, in Documents of the 31st and 32rid General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, ed. John W. Padberg SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977). 3 Indeed, GC34 devotes an entire document to the social-justice agenda: Decree 3, "Our Mission and Justice," in Documents of the Thirty-Fourth General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, ed. John L. McCarthy SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1995). 4 Decree 2, "Servants of Christ's Mission," §11, of GC34. Hereafter references to the documents of this congregation are noted in the text thus: (2:11). 5 Jesuit Education 21: Conference Proceedings on the Future of Jesuit Higher Education, ed. Martin R. Tripole SJ (Philadelphia: St. Joseph's University, 2000). References are noted in the text. 6 Dennis O'Brien, "How to Be Loyal to Loyola," Commonweal 128, no. 8 (20 April 2001): 26. 19 63. I 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, Justice, and yesuit Higher Ed 7 To Antonio de Araoz, On the ministry of Christian education, I December 1551, in George E. Ganss SJ, Ignatius of Loyola: The Spiritual Exercises and Selected Works (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), pp. 361-365 at 362 and 365 (letter selected and translated by Martin E. Palmer SJ). 8 George E. Ganss sJ, Saint Ignatius' ldea of a Jesuit University (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1956). 9 The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, trans, and ed. George E. Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), §23. ~0 St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, trans, and ed. George E. Ganss gJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), Part 4, chap. 12, no. 1 (§446; emphasis added). The nature of the university was different in Ignatius's day, to be sure, yet there is no reason to think that Ignatius would alter the content of this statement, even if it were directed to the Jesui~ university of today. 11 Ganss, Saint lgnatius'Idea, pp. 176-178. Song of the Thistle You brought me forth on the parched prairie where Russian thistles rolled and were caught against fences. And I like a thistle am still on a roll fencing with frustrations, but you don't leave me stuck to the wires now as you didn't then. I am still a tumbling weed that survived the dirty "thirties rolled fast by the Wind this day. Somewhere along the Way I am scattering seeds that may yet become shrubs or trees, something more than thistles and tumbling weeds. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ Review for Religious STANISLAW GLAZ The Spiritual Development of Individuals Psychology shows us that, in the spiritual life of Christians who strive to keep the command-ments, much falsehood and aggression may go unnoticed. Sins we are not conscious of may be hidden in our soul. For sin is not only breaking a few specific commandments an&admitting some of the peccadilloes on a catechism list. There is sin when 'people neglect their own growth and ignore their life's purpose as deter-mined by God and by nature's laws of develop-ment. Anger and theft, are often the result of a sin, the sin of being immature, of not growing apace with one's years. If we want to grow, we have to be in contact with ourselves and with God. A lack of personal development leads to inner compulsions to hurt ourselves and others, as a way of believing in our own strength and showing it: We feel weak and humiliated, and then we choose to do harm in order to feel our own vitality. Stanislaw Glaz SJ is professor of psychology at the University "Ignatianum," where the address is: ul. Kopernika 26; 31-501 Krakow; Poland. 21 63.1 2004 Glaz ¯ The Spiritual Development of lndividuals Members of the clergy, psychologists, and theologians often ask what should be done to foster people's spiritual growth and thereby foster their personality development as well. What are the essential conditions for proper development and growth? As answers to questions like this one, I plan to share some of my pastoral experience of the last few years. I will point out several factors, often unconscious ones, that influence people's spiritual development in either constructive or destructive ways. One cannot name everything thht can benefit spiritual development. Many psychologists and theologians have tried to show elements helping such development, but those they have mentioned concern mainly the ascetic and theological aspects. Today the psychology of spirituality~ offers more such factors than earlier theology could offer. Reconciliation with Oneself and with Others Many psychologists believe that, before people can love their enemy, they have to learn to love the enemy in themselves. They have to effect a reconciliation between hostile elements in themselves. To the end of their lives, people retain certain personal imperfections. They need to admit their aggressive and murderous tendencies, their inclinations towards iealousy, fear, sadness, loneliness, and other emotions. It is often more difficult for us to love the enemy in ourselves than the external enemy. We must allow the sun of God's love and benevolence to shine on and into our entire being, including all that is dark and threatening and everything that is odd, awkward, or inept. Then the light of love will transform the evil (Powell 1978). A sense of guilt is often caused by a lack of rec-onciliation with oneself, a failure to face one's own truth. Psychologists say that the sense of guilt is often necessary. In providing a chance to learn the truth about one's self, it Review for Religious can be a blessing or a curse. People with a negative attitude towards their sense of guilt are not able to accept the history of their life. They rebel at the fact that they were brought up in this or that way, were born .at this or that moment of history, were not in a position to realize their dream--that they experienced deep wounds. They blame their parents and society for not giving them the opportunity for normal development. They choose to see themselves as victims, rather than accept their situation, their wounds, their limited range of experience. They must understand that their parents and neighbors did not set these limits (perceived wrongly as constraints) intentionally, but only as the unavoidable result of similar limits and perceptions in their' own lives. Thus it is necessary that people evaluate the world by new principles (Sovernigo 1990, pp. 221-223). Reconciliation with oneself plays an important role in the spiritual development of human beings. We need to accept the person we became, to accept--along with our talents---our handicaps and weaknesses, our vulnerability, our fears, and our dallying perseverance. We must look at all that we do not Jike in ourselves, at everything we would rather not see, at our low esteem. This is ~a lifelong process. We endlessly discover in ourselves things ~that are new to us. We have to accept it all, including our own incompleteness. We must account for everything in .our lives that we excluded or rejected because it did not fit in our favorite image of ourselves, an idealized and untrue picture. We must admit that, besides the love and friendliness in our souls, there also are such feelings as hatred, anger, A sense ofguilt is often caused by a lack of reconciliation with oneself, a failure to face one's own truth. 23 63.1 2004 Glaz ¯ Tbe Spiritual Development of Individuals depression, and fear; not only brave and unselfish yearnings, but also godless spheres that want to remain undisturbed and unchanged. If we do not face the full truth about our patterns of emotion and thought and behavior, we project them unconsciously on others. Facing the full truth of our life till now means more than glancing at it superficially. It requires great courage. It requires giving up our ideal image of ourself (Laing 1969). Life in Accordance with Love Happy people are~not those who can either solve their own problems or ignore them. Happy people are people aware of their value as persons living their own unique lives, being themselves, loving others and letting others love them in their limitedness. Love assumes the need of self-control, which starts with awareness of our own feelings, thoughts, and behaviors. Love is both the skill and the wish to allow the loved ones to be who they want to be, without any insisting that they meet our own expectations. How much love we can offer to others depends on the love we have for ourselves. We are all unique. We should love our own selves, and our self-esteem should not be directly affected by our limitations and faults. Neither our current behavior, nor the behavior of others towards us, nor our feelings are the gauge of our own value, which is constant. People often evaluate themselves by .the definition of beauty and by role models put forward by the surrounding culture. Such self-evaluations are the origin of false selves that commandeer the true selves that people are given once and forever (Griin 1999, Mellody 1992). People have their genuine selves, which are the core of who they are, their essence, their spiritual entity. It is there that God is present, where their fears and sufferings do not penetrate. People who allow their own true self, their spiritual self, to direct their actions make of their Review for Religious soul a secure citadel where God lives and freedom reigns. This inner sphere is invulnerable. One can never be deprived of this intrinsic dignity. But one needs to discover it and to experience God as the foundation of all existence, of all human lives. God gives me life, and God sustains me in it. My value does not depend on passing an exam, nor on the judgment of others. It depends on my being who I am. God wants me to be myself. My value comes from no one but God. My value is my privilege (Powell 1978). The Way of Experiencing Faith Faith is not only the teaching of the church, it is not only the spiritual dimension, but it is also the proper perception of reality, the proper perception of God, of other people, and of myself. It is the art of a sane life, the art of trustful judgment of myself, of handling myself appropriately. Faith is the way to freedom. It is trust in God. It is conviction that God touches tenderly each sphere of my being, that his grace reaches all of the human soul in order to bring the light of his life there. Faith allows me to share with God all my mysteries. Faith is conviction that through Christ and in Christ human beings gained participation in God's life and that all of creation is permeated by God (Grfin 1980). True love depends not only on being free from an external sovereign, from the power of this world, and from the authority of another person, but also on being free from internal compulsions. Some ~limitations of our freedom may be occasioned by inherited behavioral tendencies. My freedom is limited when I do not know God, when I lower my self-esteem, when I create a false image of another person, when I follow slavishly the role models given to me by my parents, when I let myself be controlled by fear of loneliness, or when my perception of life and the world, is false. 63.1 2004 Glaz * The Spiritnal Development of Individuals Destructive Elements Spiritual development proceeds step by step. Many people, even when considerably along on their° spiritual iourney, may do things that impede their progress. Psychologists have tried to discover these hindrances and evaluate their consequences in both sociological and developmental terms. In their religious and social lives, numbers of people have a rigorous attitude towards themselves. The roots of such an attitude may be numerous and deep in people's unconscious. These roots may form when children do not experience unconditional love or when their parents do not treat them seriously in terms of their own self. Then the children are likely to be deeply wounded and fail to experience themselves as distinct and unique beings. According to many psychologists, their primal sense of security is injured; in other words, the children feel fundamentally unloved. Their self, their sense of the "me, who I am" is hurt, damaged, rejected by the very persons they needed to accept them unconditionally. After being treated in this way, children may react violendy against the people around them or against themselves. Such behavior is likely to bring some kind of punishment on them. Later, growing up, they may similarly punish themselves. This injustice and violence is likely to be .at the root of future violence and cruelty in the world (Gri.in 1997a). Upbringing becomes destructive when it fosters one side only, for example, only male aspects of personality like toughness and audacity, and depreciates sensitive feelings. Such treatment convinces a boy that his own and others' feelings are not important. Aggression towards the external world always corresponds with resentment towards oneself. The lack of love causes children to be fearful. They fear rejection, loneliness, and life itself. They desperately try not to disappoint their parents. They see exaggerated rigidity as a way of gaining their Review for Religious parents' love. Having no support from their inner self (for it is not developed yet), the children try to create support by imposing clear and sharp demands on themselves. Such severe attitudes towards themselves are efforts to overcome the deeply rooted fear resulting from the absence of parental warmth and acceptance. Such children do not trust themselves or others because they do not feel the support of a stable and clear relationship with their parents, nor the support of good pedagogical rules and guidelines. They are filled with suspicion and doubt, and so they perceive other people as untrustworthy and threatening. Feeling a similar vague mistrust of themselves, they seek to overcome it by sticking strictly to their own clear norms (Powell 1969). They feel well. only on the condition that they fulfill certain ideals. Their sense of their own value depends on whether people describe them as perfect children or not. They identify with "model" children so strongly that they cannot tolerate any deviation from that ideal.VV-henever they learn .that something they did was a mistake, they make their self-imposed rules and rituals more severe and uncompromising, But if persons force themselves to fit their ideals, they only torture themselves. They think that God expects them to be ideal constantly, that they should always be kind and open to others, forgetting self always. But that is not God's will; it is their own self-imposed "ideal," which often serves solely to gratify themselves, their own expectations and ambitions (Griin 1997). Lack of Love of Oneself Such an "ideal" appears mosdy in our ideal image of ourselves. We cannot accept that God created us to be who we are. We think that our imaginary idea of ourselves is more important than God's will. We do not try to develop all that God gave us; we do not accomplish numerous real possibilities in our lives. In our minds we27 63.1 2004 Glaz * The Spiritual Development of Individuals have ready pictures of ourselves deriving either from our parents and official and unofficial teachers or from own ambitions, our dreams of being some kind of hero or heroine. We may think, then, that we can do almost everything without any help from anybody. We may believe we can form the world as we wish and that we have no need to take into account the order given to the world by God. Many of us assume that we can achieve our hopes and ambitions by some kind of force. Before God this may indicate both a lack of humility and a failure to give God due respect. ~ People who push themselves higher than they are supposed to go land finally in their own prison. Resisting God is resisting life. It does damage to oneself. The egoism in people's drive towards self-actualization often leads away from love of their neighbor. It is in their work that they look for their identity and value, because they have failed to find value in themselves as God's beloved creation[ Such people have trouble admitting that they can. and do make mistakes. They look for ways to gloss over the evidences of their errors. They may push a miscalculated plan to a regrettable conclusion (provided they :do not appear responsible for it) rather than admit the wrongness of their initial decision. Their fear of anyone's negative opinion of them is stronger than their fear of doing damage: What will happen if others know how weak and fallible I am? And so they create and take on problems for other people, overestimating their own ability to control the damage. Such people lack balance. Their thought is all-or-nothing: If I do not achieve greatly at all costs, I am empty and dull, a nothing (Sovernigo 1990, pp. 228-229). Misunderstood Asceticism ~. A sound asceticism is characterized by a positive attitude towards ourselves. Its role is giving support to Review for Religious us--although people often think of it as rejecting pleasure and inhibiting our drives. The idea is the affirmation and development of life, not its negation. Unhealthy asceticism often includes a deficient image of God, which in turn may cause insensitivity and destructive desires, aspects of perfectionism. Perfectionists try to be like God. They create a system of compulsions, of detailed principles and commands. Adhering to that system and enlarging it becomes their goal in life. They deprive themselves of any pleasure; they live solely to sacrifice. They do not let themselves have any happiness because it will not last and then they will feel all the worse. They want, on their own, to get rid of anything negative in themselves. They do not trust God. They do not believe that somehow everything will make sense, that God can positively transform even what is negative in their lives. All they have to do is let God into their lives, their souls. The religious attitude of those people contains a lot of disbelief in the goodness of humanity. It assumes that people are good only when they are doing things, such as saying as many prayers as possible. Only fi solid faith in the true God brings the kind of trust that people need in order to live heaolthy and constructive lives without fearfulness. People who do not put trust in God's unconditional love for them have trouble in coping with guilt, which is present even in people who strive always to be good. People without trust in God do not understand what Jesus' carrying our cross and our carrying some of it with him are all about. They live stubbornly according to their own ideals, and their lives become rigid. Their suppressed and unmet needs attack them and appear as neurotic behavior. Perfectionists A sound asceticism is characterized by a positive attitude towards ourselves. 29 63.1 2004 Glaz ¯ The Spiritual Development of Individuals demand of themselves that their lives be altogether free of shallow or untrue motives. Such asceticism becomes a process of self-destruction (Sovernigo 1990, pp. 233-237). It seems, then, that spiritual development can proceed correctly only on the condition that we discard the illusions that we have created about our lives and likewise discard vain expectations for the future. One of those illusions is that we can create our own justice, love, and truth. And yet we have been transformed by Christ, we are called to a new life, called to a full development. To live that new life means to live in accordance with our innermost calling, not surrendering to expectations and demands that we ourselves or other people mistakenly impose on us. It means allowing God to create us and form us. Living by the Spirit's guidance and power means freedom from compulsion to prove our own value. It means life based on gratitude for all that we have been given by God. The aim of life is acceptance of that inner, spiritual reality which God gave us, which he gave us with love and in truth. The aim of life is being and living that reality and discovering the beauty of being, each of us, our individual selves, discovering and showing our original faces, faces given to us by God. Bibliography Albisetti, Valerio. 1991. Per esserefelici. Milano: Edizioni Paoline. Griin, Anselm. 1980. Lebensmitte als Geistlicbe Aufgabe. Benediktinerabtei Mfinsterschwarzach. Griin, Anselm. 1996. Glauben als Umdeuten glauben--lieben--loben. Benediktinerabtei Miinsterschwarzach. Griin, Anselm. 1997. Gut mit sicb selbst umgeben. Mainz: Matthias- Griinewald-Verlag. Griin, Anselm. 1997a. Tu dir docb nicbt selber web. Mainz: Matthias- Griinewald-Verlag. Griin, Anselm. 1999. lm Haus der Liebe wobnen. Stuttgart: Kreuz Verlag. Laing, Ronald D. 1998. L'lo diviso. Turin: Einaudi. Review for Religious Mellody, Pia. 1992. Facing Love Addiction: Giving Yourself the Power to Change the Way You Love. HarperSanFrancisco. Powell, John. 1969. Why Am I Afraid to Tell You Who I Am? Mien, Texas: Thomas More Association. Powell, John. 1978. Unconditional Love. Chicago: Thomas More Publishers. Sovernigo, Giuseppe. 1990. Religione e persona: psicologia dell' esperienza religiosa. Bologna: EDB. Nothing Is Lost That's what the fossils teach, leaves pressed to carbon traces, footprints cast in pudding stone, a dinosaur with feet smaller than my hand. Nothing is lost, not even what we cannot find a trace of. Firm under our feet, those old lives live on, in new forms, rock and root, awareness of what we are and have come from. Once a mind opens, thelight is there; it cannot close. Knowledge grows and we see what we could not, learn what needed light to be clear, like seeds long still in sand till the rain softens the dark, and green horns seep through the grains toward the sun. Nothing is lost. Everything feeds on, is formed from the past. And so shall we be, someday: seed and loam for what will come. Doretta Cornell RDC 31 63.1 2004 IGNATIUS JESUDASAM Breaking Stereotypes Reality is changing constantly. Stereotypes do not. Therefore they are unreal, products of the emo-tion and imagination of individuals and groups that have a vested interest in maintaining and perpetuating illu-sions. Stereotypes are born of fear or perception of threat. They go with and generate the negative attitudes of closed minds and hearts, keeping people stuck in their prejudice. Every group has experience of stereotypes. India abounds in them--a reason why we do not progress as much as we could. Our stereotypes make us our own worst enemies. The great national task in this context is to break the stereotypes in our minds by seeing and recognizing reality, which changes and has changed from the last time that we took a look at it. What follows is an example set by a minority group, without a conscious design to break stereotypes, nor claiming to be nor setting itself up as a model of stereotype breaking. This group just did something natural. Spontaneity is the natural way to break stereotypes, which are unnatural and antinatural. One has only to watch that stereotypes do not become second nature. Ignatius Jesudasan SJ wrote this from Loyola School; Uthiramerur; 603 406 India. Review for Religious Jesuits are a worldwide and well-known male religious order and organizational network in the Roman Catholic Church. Although they are generally known by the quality of their educational institutions, they are involved in and committed to many other endeavors too. They are a missionary order; they are always to be in a state of mission, of being sent. It is in this sense that the church itself is missionary. It understands itself as being sent into the whole world by Jesus Christ, who himself was sent here by God, whom .he called Father. In other words, Christ is not for himself, but for others. The church is not supposed to be for itself, but for the world. Christians is not supposed to be for themselves, but for others. Gandhi's vision of India was something similar. His self-image and life and action manifested the same spirit. Is this something wrong? Is it not the way that everyone is supposed to be? Where then is the problem? It is in this sense of mission and being missionary--in this stereotypemthat Christians and Christian organizations have caught the attention of the Indian majority mind and consciousness. As an avant-garde organization in the Catholic Church, the Jesuits and their diverse works are not free from the stereotype. Even Gandhi was not free from it. Regarding the church and its missionaries, is the stereotype well founded? Stereotype as Prejudice. Stereotyping is people's habit of assuming that they know what in fact they do not know. It is pretending to know. If my etymology is correct, "pretend," from the Latin roots prae and tendere, means to hold out in front, to stretch forth, to put forzvard a falsehood, a mask, an empty faqade. It means to assert as real what reality denies. In life we are often involved in such contradictions, or koans as Zen masters name them. We hold what we do not hold, and know what we do not know. We do not know 63.1 2004 Jesudasam * Breaking Stereotypes Since stereotypes are founded on people's ignorance and on bigots" exploitation of that ignorance, the first and best remedy is to get to know those about whom stereotypes exist. that we do not know. In other words, we lie to and deceive others or ourselves; or else we may not know enough to be able and willing to admit and correct our ignorance. And this is what bias or prejudice is. It is judgment before knowing or hearing the case. We indulge in it because we are cocksure of our rightness. And this sense of rightness is not all wrong. Prejudices have their roots in positive or negative emotions like love and hatred, or attraction and repulsion. Behind love and hatred, and attraction and repulsion, there may be many layers of knowledge and experience. What knowledge and experience do large numbers of Indian people have of Christians that cause them to dislike or feel uneasy about them? They "know" that the church and Christians are missionary, and they take it to mean converting others to their faith and worldview. They see such conversion as a loss to Hinduism and a gain to Christianity. This is why ethnoreligiously conscious Hindus, which secular Hindus are not, perpetuate the stereotype about Christian education, Christian social work, Christian medical work, and what have you. No one asks whether the schools and colleges do it, or the other good works do it. No factual statistics substantiate the prejudice against Christians. People take no surveys among Christians or even non- Christians about conversion facts, efforts, or even conscious intentions before adopting or retaining or rejecting these stereotypes. Review for Religious Stereotypes and prejudices are not good for any group or nation, and are positively harmful to them, for they divide, scatter, and waste their precious emotional energy resources and capacities for constructive development. India's emotional unity is affected by the prejudice directed from any community towards any other community on whatever basis, be it language, religion, caste, state, or locality. It is therefore in the national interest to remove every bias, prejudice, and stereotype that any individual or community has about any other individual or community. Since stereotypes are founded on people's ignorance and on bigots' exploitation of that ignorance, arousing mass phobia regarding the ethnically different, the first and best remedy is to get .to know those about whom stereotypes exist. It is probably with this in mind that Jesus spoke with authority to his fellow Jews: "I tell you: Love your enemies, do good to them, and pray for those who persecute you." This is good advice for any nation, and certainly not bad for India. Bias-breaking Spirituality Breaking stereotypes is therefore a social, psychological, national, and spiritual service. One may engage in it consciously or not. I see an example of unconscious stereotype breaking in a small document published recently by the Indian Jesuits, containing a summary of a week-long meeting of South Asian Jesuits held recently at Mumbai to plan a course of action for the coming years. The document is called "Action Statement of the Jesuits for Living and Sharing the Good News in South Asia." The title might strengthen the suspicion already present in the minds of the prejudiced, but the actual document will show how far it is from being sectarian propaganda material. The document was not produced 6"3.1 2004 yesudasam ¯ Breaking Stereotypes for public consumption or propaganda. It is meant solely to inspire, enlighten, and direct Jesuits in their various endeavors. The Vatican and the bishops might not appreciate it, but it was not written with them in view either. Christianity as Humanism It reads pretty much like a religiously secular document. Religious faith and social commitment are nowhere camouflaged. Faith, what the meeting's delegates believe in, is the source of their motivation. Sharing this faith is the purpose of all their activity and involvement. But neither that faith nor their activity is sectarian or divisive in purpose or practice. Christian terminology is used, which is unavoidable. But it is neither propaganda, nor propagandist in intent. It is inspirational for the group, and is not directed against any other group or the common good. Denominational religious conversion does not figure in it at all, not even as a hidden agendum. All the same, personal and cultural transformation, respect for every individual and group, and human dignity, equality, and fellowship stand out as serious social concerns. The document deplores absence or shadowy presence in the culture of the land. But, instead of accusing and finding fault with the culture, it calls for struggle and sacrifice to bring about desirable change in social patterns, The realities of globalization, religious fundamen-talism, and ethnic nationalism are recognized as aggravating the social conflicts in South Asia. The confusion of values in the fast-changing society (youth falling prey to alcohol, drugs, cults, sects, violence, and sexual exploitation), gender discrimination, and the commoditization of women and of labor are clearly focused upon. Civil liberties, human rights, environ-mental concerns, community-building techniques, and Review for Religious human solidarity are seen as signs of hope even amid the conflicts and tensions. Church as National Social Service Several areas of Jesuit involvement in South Asia are reviewed and planned for. They are education, parish ministry, interreligious dialogue, youth formation, social action for empowerment of women, Dalits, and tribals, and finally Jesuits' accountability to themselves and one another. Jesuit education is open to all, but especially to the poor, the Dalits, tribals, and women. Basics of all religions and problems regarding social justice, the environment, and human rights are to find a place in Jesuit curricula. Jesuit education is to serve the full human development of the weak and the marginalized and thereby help bring about social equality. There is to be remedial education in the schools and socially relevant research at higher levels. Even the formation of Christians is given a more social than religious thrust and direction. Basic Christian communities are to blossom into basic human communities imbued with the gospel values. In a male-dominant patriarchal church and society, the document asserts the need to discover the feminine in every person and in this way change one's own mindset and enhance one's way of relating to God, the world, humankind, and all creation. It asserts the need to include women in church decisions and priestly formation, and to take up women's issues in social action. The document calls for focus on the liberative dimension of cultural symbols, language, myths, and festivals. It calls for addressing religious fundamentalism, including Christian funda-mentalism. On the side of tribals, they support traditional rights to forestland, water, and habitat, and unity in tribal diversity. On behalf of the much-fractured Dalits, the document propounds standing up for their dignity as 63.1 2004 ~esudasam ¯ Breaking Stereotypes God's children, opposing caste discriminations, working for equal respect for each man and woman, and working preferentially with and for the most marginalized of the Dalits, irrespective of their religion. In social action the meeting's delegates want to share the struggles of the poor for a fuller life, to educate the illiterate, to organize domestic and displaced laborers and help them get skilled training. For greater effectiveness and coordination, they propose greater all-India administrative linkage and democratically transparent accountability. Sharing the gospel means working for equality, for the human dignity of those to whom it is denied. Social Activism People's participation is the essence of the democratic process. In actuality, social structures exclude many from the process. Sharing the gospel in this context means working for equality, for the human dignity of those to whom it is denied. This is the philosophy behind the action plan described above. One recognizes echoes of political language, but the composers of the document are not a political party. They are churchmen to the core. They do not speak a distinctively churchy language either, but one of social activists. The plans might be high-sounding and idealistic. Everything might not be realized as desired or planned. But the goodwill is obvious, and it is unlikely to be wholly in vain or go unfulfilled. Does this mission pose a danger or threat to Hinduism? No reasonable Hindus would take it so. Denominational conversion could indeed be perceived as a sociopolitical and cultural threat, especially if it took place on a massive scale. But conversion in the values of a Review for Religious culture does not pose such a threat. The nation and its people can be the better for it. (Will the Indian people then come off the various stereotypes about church, mission, and Christians?) Reflection Individuals can challenge and be challenged by others in dialogue into greater confidence and indifference. Then they will speak without fear their critical as well as creative ideas. Then they will feel accepted with their strengths and weaknesses and will participate with joy and confidence in their own and the common works. They will come up with initiatives that could be discussed, decided, and acted upon. This might be a way of rediscovering Ignatian indifference--through structural changes more in tune with our times. This might be a way of refounding St. Ignatius's Society as our Society. No institute or nation is founded once and for all. It stands always in need of reappropriation and reidentification by new and would-be members or citizens. It is when they are happy with the country or institute that they proudly identify with it and want to strengthen it further. Such a feeling is not an individual's to produce all by oneself. Every member has a personal responsibility to it. The government or the leaders have a major structural and personal responsibility. Friends, I am passing these thoughts on to you in the hope that they may evoke some critical reflections for our common good. 63.1 2004 HILDEGARD MAGDALEN PLEVA A Charism Illumined: Eucharistic Anamnesis and "Viva Memoria" ¯ he Second Vatican Council gave the church an energizing impulse. One of its most generative instructions directedreligious orders and con-gregations to go back into their history, examine early texts and archival material for guidance in reappropriating their founders' inspiration and charism, and thus begin their own rejuvenation. The still burning embers of the Spirit's work were to be fanned into flame and illumine the path ahead in new times and new circumstances. The Order of the Most Holy Redeemer pur-sued this directive in company with their Redemptorist brothers, whose efforts brought its founder, the Venerable Maria Celeste Crostarosa (1696-1755), into the light. Renewed knowledge of her vivacious spirit and mystical ¯ experience was a rediscovery of the institute's charism, the life force to be reappropriated by her sisters, the call to be a living memory of the 40 Hildegard Magdalen Pleva OSSR is newly professed among the Redemptoristine Nuns; P.O. Box 220; Esopus, New York 12429. Review for Religious paschal mystery of Jesus. Our formula of profession says, "You have called me to relive in myself the Mystery of Jesus. and to be a living memorial of it." During my ten years of association with the order and two years within the community, in conversations with friends, lay associates, religious of other congrega-tions, and visitors to our monastery, I have often attempted to explain our charism, to be a "living mem-ory" of Christ (Crostarosa, Dialogues, §104). It does not mean mere imitation; it goes beyond that. My effort to expand on the "beyond" kept falling short. From this sense of inadequacy came a search for a way of defining "living memory" that would be appropriately substan-tial yet comprehensible. The Eucharistic Connection With time and within the misty atmosphere of men-tal conjecture, "living memory" began to merge with Jesus' words in the Liturgy: "Do this in memory (anam-nesis) of me." Suddenly the overlap was not just a coin-cidence of vocabulary. It included a concept of Eucharistic theology explored in graduate school. That first appreciation of Eucharistic anamnesis seemed like a bright star exploding before my eyes, initially blinding in its brightness but then illuminating everything. At the consecration of the Mass, not only is the Body and Blood of Jesus made present under the appearance of bread and wine, but the entire paschal mystery is made present, and not only present but also active among us here and now. We are not merely remembering Jesus' life and sacrifice on the cross. Those events are actively redeeming the world at this m'oment. That explanation of the Eucharistic Liturgy's meaning and power emerged from the past in response to my "living memory" question of the present. It suggested that the concept of liturgical anamnesis could clarify our Redemptoristine concept of "living memory4."1 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined The form and features of this concept emerged from careful reading of Maria Celeste's Dialogues and Autobiography, which provide a rich vein of evidence of her post-Communion meditation experiences. One morning after Holy Communion I heard in the very center of my soul these words of the Credo pro-nounced: "consubstantialem Patri per quem omnia facta sunt" [one in being with the Father, through whom all things were made] so that, filled to over-flowing with divine gifts, it seemed to me that the divine essence was in me . My Lord Jesus Christ. gave me his divine heart, which he enclosed in my breast in place of my own . I seemed to enter into a new life of Love, a life in God. (Autobiography, capi-tolo 18) This morning., my whole soul was transformed into your very substance. (Dialogues, §30) Since your soul is the figure of My substance, what ~ really are you within your spirit, in your very being, if not a living image, a living copy of Me? (Dialogues, §47) After I received Holy Communion . . . I saw You within me and myself changed into You . I felt that just one word was being spoken to me, namely, "sub-stance of the Father" [consubstantialem Patri] . This transformation, O Lord of my heart, of my being into Yours, You deigned to make so many times! (Dialogues, §125) This morning I went to Holy Communion and You transformed me into Yourself so that I entered into the humanity of Your divine Word and began to sacrifice myself to the Father for all people. (Dialogues, §147) You do this precisely by the spirit of observance in terms of your Rule, which was given to Me so that you might be a viva memoria [a dynamic memory] of My life. (Dialogues, §104) These passages speak of a transformation that is not merely an imitative overlay but a participation in the substance, the very essence, of Jesus, in which he in turn is consubstantial with the Father. Nor is it a static par-ticipation, but a highly animated one that propels Maria Review for Religious Celeste "into a new life of Love, a life in God." By such participation and animation, Jesus, his paschal mystery, his work of redemption, is made present and active in our time. For Maria Celeste the incarnation of Jesus was the opening of new territory in the relationship between God and humanity, a territory into which she entered with abandon. By taking part in the Eucharist, the essen-tial act of remembering Jesus, she became substantially one with him, not merely an imitation of him. Gradually these mystical experiences revealed to her the necessity of remembering always, of living a life of remembering, a life of "oneness" with Jesus Christ. Eucharistic Anamnesis The phenomena of Eucharistic anamnesis and "liv-ing memory" each reflect the other. Yet their depth, their power to inform sacramental and spiritual appreciation, was lost over time. While the anamnetic character of the Eucharist was buried under weighty layers of theo-logical argumentation, Maria Celeste's mystical experi-ence of "living memory" was lost to obscurity for more than two hundred years. In the 20th century each became the object of a kind of archaeological dig, a treasure to be unearthed by tectonic shifts brought about by the Second Vatican Council. The crucial feature of both anarnnesis and "living memory" is the ability to make past events and the per-son of Jesus present and active in our time. This idea, however, this connection, is not enough. One must ask where this astounding concept of anamnesis comes from. The answers will more fully illuminate the Redemptoristine charism, and the Catechism of the Catholic Church gives inquirers a start: The Eucharist is the memorial of Christ's Passover, the making present and the sacramental offering of his unique sacrifice . In all the Eucharist Prayers we 63. I 2004 --44 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined find after the words .of institution a prayer called the anamnesis or memorial ["Father, we celebrate the mem-ory of Christ . We. recall his passion" etc. / "In memory of his death and resurrection" etc. / "Father, calling to mind the death your Son endured . . . his glorious resurrection" etc. / "Father, we now celebrate this memorial of our redemption. We recall Christ's death, his descent among the dead" etc.]. In the sense of Sacred Scripture, the memorial is not merely the recollection of past events but the proclamation of the mighty works wrought by God for men . They become in a certain way present and real. This is how Israel understands its liberation from Egypt: every time Passover is celebrated, the Exodus events are made present to the memory of believers so that they may conform their lives to them. ¯ . . When the church celebrates the Eucharist, she commemorates Christ's Passover, and it is made pre-sent . "As often as the sacrifice of the cross . is celebrated on the altar, the work of our redemption is carried out." (§§1362-1364) Rooted in Jewish Liturgical Practice The memorial or anamnetic character of the Eucharistic banquet is not a conceptualization newly minted by post-Vatican II sacramental theology. Rather, it is a theological concept found in the oldest Eucharistic Prayers, which reflect how the practices of the early church were deeply rooted in ancient Hebrew liturgical tradition. "The primitive Eucharist was a commemora-tion. Not a commemoration of the Last Supper, but a commemoration of Christ, and of his saving mysteries. The idea . of a 'mere' commemoration (nuda com-memoratio) would have been meaningless to the Jewish mind" (Lash, p. 44). In 1969 Rabbi Marc Tannenbaum, then director of national intex:religious affairs for the American Jewish Committee and an observer at the Second Vatican Council, wrote: "To commemorate and to remember is in the Jewish tradition never a mere Review for Religious memory, but always implies a look toward the future and a making present again" (Breaking of Bread, p. 148). The Jewish Passover Seder is the penultimate expression of the Hebrew commemorative meal, making present in real time the mystery of the Passover of the Lord God. Based upon the work of scholars in Eucharistic the-ology, among them Louis Bouyer, Louis Ligier, Joachim Jeremias, Jean-Paul Audet, and Gregory Dix, an even greater understanding .of the origins of the earliest Eucharistic Prayers or anaphoras is emerging. The most ancient anaphoras conform in structure to the Jewish prayers said at a fellowship meal, espe-cially the birkat-ha-mazon, which was typically anamnetic in char-acter and featured three move-ments: blessing, thanksgiving, and supplication (Audet in Klein, p. 410). Beyond appreciating the stylistic resemblance of early Eucharistic Prayers, it was Gregory Dix who had the insight to consider the Sitz-im-Leben, that is, the insti-tutional setting in actual Hebraic practice which gave specific meaning to these liturgical meal prayers (Klein, p. 413). Dix's insights answered a basic question: What did Jesus, as a Jew of his time, have in mind; what did he mean when he said, "Do this in memory of me" (1 Co 11:24)? "The command of Jesus did not refer to the rep-etition of a sacral fellowship meal. This could be pre-sumed as fundamental to Jewish religious practice. In other words, Jesus did not have to institute a meal, because the meal was already there. What Jesus did was to invest this meal with a new anamnetic character" (Klein, p. 414). For the Hebrew of Jesus' time, the Passover meal was not merely "a subjective, human psy- What Jesus did was to invest this meal with a new anamnetic character. 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined chological act of returning to the past, but an objective reality" undertaken to make the Passover of the Lord perpetually present before God (Bouyer, p. 103). "By the power of the Lord of history, those events are in a sense made present in the liturgy, so that the worshipers are living them ag.ain in their own lives. A Jewish ritual memorial, therefore, is no mere thinking of the past; it is a memorial filled with the reality of that which it com-memorates" (Maloney, p. 265). This was the anamnetic character of the meal. When Jesus said "Do this in mem-ory of me," he invested the meal with a new anamnetic object, that is, the paschal mystery, which is the saving acts of his own life, death, and resurrection. The Implications of Anamnesis for Our Practice Celebrations of the Eucharist in which we share today are the occasions in which we call to mind the person and events of our salvation--Jesus Christ and his paschal mystery--in such a way that we render them liv-ing and active in our own time. The plural pronoun we is operative here. The priest, although acting in persona Christi, is not acting alone. The gathered community is not merely present or participating by observation. The community gathered for the memorial meal is integral to anamnesis, to recalling and thereby making actively pre-sent the person and saving action of the~Redeemer. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum con-cilium) of the Second Vatican Council declares that God's people gathered for Eucharist "offer the immaculate vic-tim through the hands of the priest, but also together with him" (§48). The Eucharistic Prayer emphasizes this integral func-tion by repeated use of the pronoun we. "We thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you" (EP II). "We offer you in thanksgiving this holy and living .sacrifice" (EP III). "We, your people and Review for Religious your ministers, recall his passion, his resurrection from the dead, and his ascension into glory" (EP 2). Indeed, the level of participation penetrates more deeply if the community offer themselves along with the gifts of bread and wine: "Father, we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power of your Spirit, that they may become the body and blood of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ." In the consecration Jesus becomes uniquely present under the appearances of bread and wine, but also, through the Eucharistic anamnesis and the congregation's living memory, actively present within and among those gathered. This answers the question of the way Jesus Christ becomes actively present at each Eucharistic celebration. According to people's receptive memories, Jesus the redeeming Christ becomes present in those who are united with him in this memorial. In remembering, we become what we remember. Just as the anamnetic character of our Eucharist is rooted in an ancient religious ritual, appreci-ation of the effect of anamnesis is imbedded in our history. St. Fulgentius (467-533), bishop of Ruspe, speaking of the obligation of the faithful to fulfill the words of the Savior at the Last Supper, wrote: "Thus they drink the Lord's cup by preserving the holy bond of love; without it, even if a man should deliver his body to be burned, he gains nothing. But the gift of love enables us to become in real-ity what we celebrate as mystery in the sacrifice." Alexander Schmemann, the late Russian Orthodox scholar of liturgy, wrote about the power of anamnetic memory in his work The Eucharist. His words are so elo-quently reminiscent of the Constitutions of the Order of the Most Holy Redeemer that they" must be quoted at length: In Christ . memory comes to reign and is restored as a life-creating power, and, in remembering, man par-takes not of the experience of the fall., but of the 47 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined overcoming of this fall through "life everlasting." For Christ himself is the incarnation and the gift to mankind of God's memory in all its fullness . The essence of our faith and the new life granted in it consists in Christ's memory, realized in us through our memory of Christ. From the very first day of Chris-tianity, to believe in Christ meant to remember him and keep him always in mind . From the very begin-ning the faith of Christians was memory and remem-brance, but memory restored to its life-creating essence--for . this new memory is a joyous recog-nition of the one who was resurrected, who lives and therefore is present and abides . Faith eternally knows that the one who is remembered lives . The remembrance of Christ is the entry into his love, making us brothers and neighbors, "brethren" in his ministry. His life and presence in us and "among" us is certified only by our love for each other and for all whom God has sent into, has included in, our life, and this means above all in the remembrance of each other and in the commemoration of each other in Christ. Therefore, in bringing his sacrifice to the altar, we create the memory of each other, we identify each other as living in Christ and being united with each other in him. (Schmemann, pp. 128-130) The constitution and statutes of our order assert again and again this understanding of the Eucharistic Liturgy as the agent of "living memory":. The church continues to make present this memorial of the Passover of the Lord, a living bond of 16ve between Christians and a pledge of future glory. Our liturgical celebrations must give witness at one and the same time to the holiness of the Lord and to his loving presence among us . This silent con-templation, maintained in faith and love in the depth of the soul, allows us a personal experience of God and also permits us to enter fully into the plan of redemption . We allow Christ to relive his mys-tery in us by contemplating him in the whole of his life. (§§37-42) Review for Religious Participation by the Holy Spirit's Power The scope of this paper does not permit lengthy dis-cussion of the debate regarding consecratory elements of the Liturgy of the Eucharist. While the church in the West has long held to "This is my body . this is my blood" in the Gospels' Last Supper narrative as the con-secratory formula, the church of the East has always con-sidered the epidesis, the prayer of the invocation of the Holy Spirit, to be the essential mo-ment of consecration. Again it is Alexander Schmemann who calls the debate back to order. "Despite hundreds of treatises written in response to this question, neither aca-demic theological nor liturgi-cal studies have given, alas, a satisfactory answer . We cannot 'break through' to the genuine meaning, embed-ded in the very experience of the church, of the Eucharist as the sacrament of remembrance" (Schmemann, pp. 192- 193). Although today the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§§ 1352-1353) declares the Eucharistic Prayer "the heart and summit of the celebration," specifying the institution narrative as consecratory, the very existence of the old debate reminds us to renew our attentiveness to the work of the Spirit. This attentiveness is important for appreci-ating the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic Liturgy. Each of the four principal Eucharistic Prayers includes an epidesis invoking the power of the Holy Spirit as the agent of consecration: "Let your Spirit come upon these gifts to make them holy" (EP II). By these words we acknowledge that it is by the power of the Holy Spirit Attentiveness to the work of the Spirit is important for appreciating the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic Liturgy. 49 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined - that the gifts are changed. In these words we ask that we too may become h01y, becoming "a living offering to God" (Catechism, §1105) in the mystery we celebrate, the sacrament of remembrance. For Redemptoristines the vocabulary of anamnesis (memory, remember, remembrance, recall, memorial) should be like music to the ears. The charism to be a "living memory" of Jesus was revealed to our foundress during post-Communion meditations in which she expe-rienced the transformative power of the Eucharist accomplished through the work of the Spirit. Her daugh-ters are to be transformed into the "living memory" by participation in the Eucharistic banquet, which was from the beginning a "memory." By remembering we partic-ipate in the change of the Eucharistic elements into the Body and Blood of Jesus and, in turn, we are changed into the very life we remember. The Jesus of Maria Celeste's mystical experiences said: "You shall take on a memory of my life in each hour [of the day]. I shall be the lamp of all your activities, and you shall eat the living food of eternal life which was contained in the works of my life while I was a pilgrim on earth. This is the spirit of the institute: viva memoria and imitation of me just as I lived among you" (Dialogues, §§104-105). Elsewhere this level of attentive remem-bering is referred to as a "fixed gaze." To the degree that Celeste's daughters' devout recollection approximates a fixed gaze, their very lives take on an anamnetic character. Then we make the paschal mystery more present and active in real time. We become the "living memory" of Jesus. Our acts of memory, insofar as they are produced by the Holy Spirit, render us not only spiritual people (pneumatikoi) but also bearers of the Spirit (pneu-matophoroO, a living epMesis (Bianchi, p. 162). By our lives we call down the power of the. Holy Spirit into every cor-ner of the world and the troubled hearts of humanity. Review for Religio,,s My original question concerned the deeper meaning of our charism, to be a "living memory" of Jesus Christ, to make the person of Jesus present in our world in a manner that goes beyond any mere imitation. Our Eucharistic Liturgies are "pregnant with reality" (Crichton, p. 14), a reality Jesus called for at the Last Supper: "Do this in memory of me." Jesus, the incarna-tion of the memory of God, is asking us to become, in turn, the incarnation of his memory in our world. The words of Maria Celeste express self-affirmation and encourage her community today: Now that Your sacred humanity, united to the Word of God, has been glorified . it gives me such a risen life in God that it transforms me into the eternal life of God, as I await the dawning of the new day that will make me blessed for all eternity. (Florilegium, p. 95) If we have it in our power to make present and active the saving work of Jesus by our remembering, the qual-ity of that remembering, our alert presence to it, becomes so much more vital. Seeing the relation between the anamnesis and Maria Celeste's "living memory" intensi-fies our call to be contemplatives. For Redemptoristines, for all contemplatives, or for all who would live their active lives in a more contemplative fashion, the Eucharistic anamnesis can reinforce our effort to live rec-ollected lives, to order our lives by continually remem-bering (and thus reactualizing) the person, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Almost fifty years ago Thoma~ Merton declared, "In the night of our technological barbarism, monks must be as trees which exist silently in the dark and by their vital presence purify the air" (Merton, p. 124). Just as the trees of the forest breathe transforming life into the world, our conscious and active "living memory" is, with the divine breath of the Spirit, cocreator of the saving presence of Jesus in our time. Appreciation of the anam- 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined netic power of our "living memory" is impetus for the life and work of contemplation. Sources Bianchi, Enzo, OCSO. "The Holy Spirit in Monastic Life," trans. Brian Kerns. Cistercian Studies Quarterly 37, no. 2 (2002): 153- 166. Catechism of the Catholic Church. Liguori, Mo.: Liguori Publications, 1997. Crichton, J.D. "A Theology of Worship." In The Study of Liturgy, ed. Cheslyn Jones, Geoffrey Wainwright, and Edward Yarnold SJ. New York: Oxford University Press, 1978. Or see Study, rev. ed., 1992, p. 15. Crostarosa, Maria Celeste. Dialogues, trans. Joseph W. Oppitz. Esopus, N.Y.: Mother of Perpetual Help Monastery, 1981. Dix, Dom Gregory. The Shape of the Liturgy. New York: Seabury Press, 1982. Florilegium: Texts from Mother Maria Celeste Crostarosa, ed. Sabatino Majorano. Liguori, Mo:: Liguori Publications, 1993. Klein, Terrance W. "Institution Narratives at the Crossroads." Worship 67, no. 5 (September 1993): 407-418. Lash, Nicholas. His Presence in the World: A Study of Eucharistic VVorship and Theology. Dayton, Ohio: Pflaum Press, 1968. Maloney, Raymond. "The Doctrine on the Eucharist." In Commentary on the Catechism of the Catholic Church, ed. Michael J. Walsh, pp. '259-269. Collegeville~ Liturgical Press, 1994. Merton, Thomas. Basic Principles of Monastic Spirituality. Springfield, Ill.: Templegate Publishers, 1996. Order of the Most Holy Redeemer (OSSR). Constitution and Statutes. Rome, 1985. Schmemann, Alexander. The Eucharist: Sacrament of the Kingdom. Crestwood, N.Y.: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1988. Tannenbaum, Marc. "How Mode(n Jews Celebrate Their History." In The Breaking of Bread, ed. Pierre Benoit, Roland E. Murphy, and Bastiaan van Iersel. Concilium, vol. 40. New York: Paulist Press, 1969. Review for Religious RANDALL S. ROSENBERG Eucharistic Devotion in the Rising Generation _~ .~.aismseuse M oafr tAinm SeJ rdiicda a, nhiicgeh jloibg,h inti nthge t3h Me aprecrhs 2o0n0a3l reflections of contemporary Catholics on traditional devotions. In recent times we have witnessed in the United States a rise of the devotion of Eucharistic adoration. How ought this revival to be perceived? Is it merely an attempt to resurrect nostalgic memories of the "good old days"? Or is it the authentic recovery of a lost Eucharistic piety that has had an important place in our tradition? In this "bent" world, both of the afore-mentioned possibilities could be operative. In his April 2003 encyclical on the Eucharist, Ecclesia de Eucbaristia, John Paul II recognizes "positive signs" of an increase in "Eucharistic faith and love." But he also takes notice of what he calls "shadows" with regard to this devotion. He writes: "In some places the practice of Eucharistic adoration has been almost completely abandoned. In various parts of the church, abuses have occurred, leading to confusion about Catholic doctrine Randall S. Rosenberg has taught high school theology and is beginning work towards a Ph.D. in systematic theology at Boston College. His address is 14 Eddy Street; Newton, Massachusetts 02465. 63.1 2004 Rosenberg ¯ Eucbaristic Devotion and sound faith concerning this wonderful sacrament. At times one encounters an extremely meager understanding of the Eucharistic mystery" (§10). John Paul claims that the worship of the Eucharist outside of Mass, as linked to the celebration of the Eucharistic sacrifice, is of "inestimable value for the life of the church." He calls upon pastoral leaders to encourage this devotion which affords the opportunity to "spend time with him, to lie close to his breast like the Beloved Disciple (see Jn 13:25) and to feel the infinite love present in his heart." Surely this intimate language springs from the depths of the pope's personal experience of Christ in adoration: "How often, dear brothers and sisters, have I experienced this, and drawn from it strength, consolation, and support!" (§25). What are we to make of our pope's proclamation? As a faculty moderator on a recent high school retreat, I witnessed students spending some time in Eucharistic adoration. The adoration followed several days of small-group sharing and was linked with the opportunity for the sacrament of reconciliation. Without solicitation, one student remarked to me how powerful this experience was for him. This was not a student regularly involved with campus ministry, nor did he seem particularly interested in matters religious. The student asked me why this opportunity was not more available. It struck me that this generation (I am not very much older) does not carry around the baggage that many middle-aged and older American Catholics carry; that is, there is no liberal-conservative rift dividing them. I am all for healthy theological tension, but young people today are not likely to label those who spend time in Eucharistic adoration traditionalist conservatives, nor those who are concerned about social justice radical liberals. There seems to be a growing sense that the contemplative and active dimensions of the faith ought not to be pitted against each another, but rather are part of the rich and Review for Religious complex life of faith in the modern world. John E Kavanaugh SJ recendy suggested (America, 4 November 2002) that the old dichotomies of liberal and conservative simply do not work anymore. One such illuminating experience for him was an encounter with a prayer group of college students who invited him to speak on the topic of "Real Presence in the Eucharist and in Persons." Many in the church are righdy concerned about an emphasis on private Eucharistic devotion over against the communal dimensions of the faith. Influenced in part by the groundbreaking work of Henri de Lubac SJ, the church has rediscovered the social dimension of the Eucharist, namely, that this powerful sacrament is not only an encounter with the divine, but also a means of fostering unity in the church and among human beings generally. Rightly under-stood, Eucharistic contem-plation could deepen one's relationship with Christ made present under the appearance of bread and wine and also with the assembly of the faithful, the body of Christ. In the midst of our technological culture that fosters noise, clutter, information overload, and a quick fix, and in a world culture that is permeated with violence and war, I propose that we need Christic contemplation and silence. Since my conversation with the student, I have become more convinced than ever that our world not only needs silence, but also hungers for silence. One can commune silently with Holy Mystery in nature or in one's living room, but our sacramental tradition provides us with a special quiet encounter with Jesus. Many in the church are rightly concerned about an emphasis on private Eucharistic devotion over against the communal dimensions of the faith. 63.1 2004 Rosenberg ¯ Eucbaristic Devotion ! The great theologian Karl Rahner SJ--who respected the tradition deeply and engaged modern intellectual developments creatively, and who tried to convince ordinary people that they can be mystics in their everyday activities--warned against the loss of this devotion. In Mission and Grace: Essays in Pastoral Theology, Rahner suspects that those who oppose contemplation of the Eucharist are really uncomfortable with "private, prolonged, contemplative prayer in general; that the objections raised against visits as such are for the most part only a sort of ideological cover, supplied in retrospect, for a general withdrawal from the severe demands of meditation." In his final writings Rahner wrote that the worshiping of Jesus in the sacrament must not disappear. Its history may have started from unnoticeable beginnings. However, in salvation history and in the history of the church, something cannot disappear simply because it started almost without being noticed. No, as Catholics we wish, individually and together, to loo1~ to the sign of the presence of the one who has loved us and has offered himself up for us. It should not be unusual for us to kneel at times in private prayer before the Lord who has saved us. ("Eucharistic Worship," in Theological Investigations x aI0 Eucharistic adoration may also foster the contemplative dimension of a concern for social justice. A hallmark of the theology of Johannes Baptist Metz, famous for his spiritual classic Poverty of Spirit, is what he calls dangerous memories. According to him, what theology often ignores is the history of suffering. We must not do theology, he would say, with our backs turned to Auschwitz, but with a mysticism of eyes open to the dangerous memories, the me.mories of horrendous human suffering. Discourse about the war in Iraq, then, cannot be divorced from the dangerous memory of the Review for Religious young boy who lost his arms and was severely burned in a U.S. missile attack. Not only was he injured, but his pregnant mother was killed, along with his father and several of his siblings. One encounters dangerous memories in the Eucharist. As Pope John Paul has insisted, the Eucharist makes sacramentally present again the horrible sufferings of Jesus, himself a victim of injustice. In the light of the dangerous memory of the cross, Eucharistic adoration provides, if well understood, the opportunity to become conscious of and to lament the terrible sufferings of God's children in our present day. We are given a chance to commune with the one who gave us these haunting words: "Whatever you do to the least of my brothers you do to me." Christ-centered contemplation, then, may lead to Christ-centered action. Although we must avoid letting private devotion seem more important or more central than the Mass, it would be wise to listen to people, especially young people, who desire to spend time in loving contemplation and adoration of the Eucharist. Such devotion may actually build bridges across rifts in the church and in the world, actually make the church more Catholic and catholic. I am convinced that the rising generation is ready to discard divisive political labels and embrace both the prayer and the activity necessary for integral lives of faith. 63.1 2004 SUSAN B. CORDSEN Teresa of Avila and Friendship Teresa was a friend par excellence. She had tremendous natural relational gifts. These caused her great difficulty, but also became keys to her effectiveness as a reformer. Friendship is a central element in her writing as it was in how she lived her life. In her autobiography she writes, "As I grew older, when I began to know of the natural attractive qualities the Lord had bestowed on me (which others said were many), instead of thanking him for .them, I began to make use of them all to offend him.''1 The redemptive learning and teaching that flowered from her experience can be helpful for us today. In her early life, relationships were a con-stant struggle for her. In her autobiography Teresa says that a friendship of hers with a teenage relative "pained my father and my sis-ter" (2.4). She uses her own reflections to illus- Susan B. Cordsen, a lay Carmelite for twenty-one years, is doing graduate studies at Washington Theological Union; 6896 Laurel Street, N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20012. Review for Religious trate and teach "the harm a bad companion can do." Later she speaks of the personal influence of a nun in the convent school she was attending: "This good com-pany began to help me get rid of the habits that the bad company had caused" (2.4 and 3.1). Both the negative and the positive aspects of friendship frame her discussions. In 1536, at the age of twenty-one, she entered the Carmelite Convent of the Incarnation. There "the par-lor" and outside relationships became a major "harm and distraction" for her. In that early period she had a vision of Christ, who "desired to make me understand that those friendships were not proper for me" (7.6). Since she did not know that it was possible to see the Lord in such a personal, experiential way, and since "the vision was not to my liking," she tried to conceal it from her-self (7.7). Concerning these friendships, she ignored other external and internal warnings as well. In 1544 a Dominican confessor, Vicente Barron, iarged her to return to personal times of prayer. Here she reflects: "Spiritual friendship is. extremely impor-tant for souls not yet fortified in virtue--since they have so many opponents and friends to incite them to evil" (7.21). Now she begins to express prayer in friendship terms with her famous definition: "Mental prayer., is noth-ing else than an intimate sharing between friends; it means frequently taking time to be alone with Him who we know loves us." For friendship.to :endure, "the wills of the friends must be in accord" (8.5). Seeing Christ as "friend" who invites us into "friendship" becomes the key and model of her redeemed relationality. Yet her internal struggles remained intense. She says, "For more than eighteen years, I suffered this conflict between friendship with God and friendship with the world" (8.3). Finally, in 1554, she had her profound conversion before the statue of the wounded Christ. Yet, even here, though 63.1 2004 Cordsen ¯ Teresa of Avila and Friendship Though she was deeply reoriented toward friendship with Jesus, she was not fully freed from personal attachments. she was deeply reoriented toward friendship with Jesus, she was not fully freed from personal attachments. This came about two years later. She writes of her new Jesuit confessor, Juan de Pradanos, who led her with skill and gentleness because she was still fragile, "espe-cially with regard to giving up some friendships I had." She was not offending God, but was attached, feeling she would be ungrateful to aban-don them. This would seem to be a rather common state of affairs in people's friend-ships. The friendship is not sinful or "destructive," and to simply discard the rela-tionship would seem disloyal to the friend, and yet the attachment is the very thing that keeps us unfree and interferes with both our friendship with God and our friendship with the person. Turning to God in prayer,. Teresa was for the first time granted a rapture; she heard, "No longer do I want you to converse with men but with angels" (24.5). She com-ments, "These words have been fulfilled." How? By her withdrawing into silent prayer, ending all human friend-ships to speak only with angels and God? No. "For I have never again been able to tie myself to any friendship or to find consolation in or bear particular love for any other persons than those I understand love [God] and strive to serve him; nor is it in my power do to so, nor does it matter whether they are friends or relatives" (24.6). This freed her to become more of a friend rather than drawing her from friendship. This is because her friendship with others now flowed from her friendship with Christ. It is astonishing Review for Religious how deeply and richly she draws on the concept of friendship to express her relationship with Jesus. She notes, again and again that he is a "true" friend. This is a term she uses just before writing about the importance of the sacred humanity of Christ and how we must never seek to go beyond this. "We are not angels but we have a body" (22.6-10). The concept of friendship keeps her connected to the sacred humanity. She writes of how God treats the soul with friendship; she even prays that the Lord make a certain person "our" friend, that is, the friend of both God and Teresa (27.9 and 34.8). God enables in us a sense of mutuality whereby the soul and God understand each other (27.10). This key, friendship, continues in her "Meditations on the Song of Songs." Though a human love story and one often used by mystics to comment on the love of God pursuing and enticing the soul in the image of the bride, Teresa adds her own twist. Her meditation is really on only a few verses and treats the themes of prayer and union as she does in her other works. But here she emphasizes "friendship" and "peace." Quoting the verse "Let Him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth," she asks how dare we speak them. She answers, "The soul that is enkindled with a love that makes it mad desires nothing else than to say these words." Then, after speaking of the Blessed Sacrament, she wonders whether the bride "was asking for that union so great that God became man, for that friendship that he effects with the human. race. Obviously a kiss is the sign of great peace and friendship among two persons.''2 Teresa discusses everything from "friendship" with the devil to our relationship with God as "skin-deep." Using "friendship" to express growth and union, she refers to "another kind of friendship, stronger than this," but adds that "neither is this the friendship the bride seeks" (2.20 and 2.27). "God grants so great a favor as to 6! 63.1 2004 Cordsen * Teresa of Avila and Friendship join [the soul] with himself in a friendship like this" (3.9); "how is it possible that even while in this mortal life one can enjoy You with so special a friendship [that] only those who experience this friendship will understand it?" (3.14 and 4.1). Teresa develops this human love story in many directions, including that of marriage. The fact that she uses it to reflect on divine friendship may help us reflect on the friendship dimension within marriage. As usual, Teresa not only shares her experience, but also reflects on it to help others. In setting up her Carmelite reform, she initially limits her monasteries to thirteen nuns. Here "all must be friends, all must be loved, all must be held dear, all must be helped.''3 She herself knows how difficult this is in practice and tries to point out pitfalls and give guidance. Though written for cloistered women, her insights are practical for us as well. She is concerned about hav-ing "excessive love" for one person and thus failing to love others equally, feeling sorry about an affront to the friend, desiring possessions so as to have things to give as gifts, and looking for times to speak with her and often only about trifling things. Such friendships seldom help each other toward love of God. Yet because we are human we are often drawn more to one person than another and easily become attached. The crucial ele-ments are self-knowledge and awareness (4.6-8). Teresa usually does not recommend cutting off con-tact altogether, which would not be possible in the monastery anyway. "To break away from these friend-ships involving a particular fondness, great care is nec-essary at the outset of the friendship. This breaking away should be done delicately and lovingly rather than harshly" (4.9). She says to limit time together. She is not trying to destroy the friendship, only reorient it. She shows this by the way she speaks of spiritual love, which is what she desires for all friendship. "Even though in Review for Religious the beginning it is not so perfect, the Lord will gradu-ally perfect it. Let us begin by using the suitable means, for, even though the love bears with it some natural ten-derness, no harm will be done provided this tenderness is shown toward all" (7.5). Her advice regarding falling in love with confessors shows her realism and balance. The sisters should "try not to think about whether they love the confessor or don't love him; but, if they do love him, let them love him . A great principle for making much progress is to love the confessor, if he is holy and spiritual and if I see that he is dili-gent about my soul's progress. For our weak-ness is such that some-times this love helps us very much to perform great deeds in the ser-vice of God. If the love is not of this kind, there is danger . There is much need for caution and pru-dence. The best advice is that the confessor not know that there is such affection . If [the sisters] know that he is God-fearing, they should not weary themselves over any temptation . about their great attachment; when the devil is worn out, he will go away." However, if they "become aware that the confessor is turning toward some vanity," they should make their confession brief and seek another confessor:4 Teresa looks to self-knowledge, awareness, patience with our emotions, and God's grace to navigate rela-tionships. Regarding confessors she advises developing internal boundaries rather than trusting external bound-aries to keep relationships proper. Again, it is Christ the friend who shows how we are to be friends together. Teresa looks to self-knowledge, awareness, patience with our emotions, and God's grace to navigate relationships. 63.1 2004 Cordsen * Teresa of Avila and Friendship Teresa says this is "a love with no self-interest at all. All that it desires., is to see the other soul rich with heav-enly blessings" (Way, 7.1). As with all of life, this friendship is not without suf-fering. After speaking of the cross, Teresa asks, "What better friendship than that [Jesus] desire for you what he desired for himself?." (Way, 17.7). This is one of many places where she notes that one of the gifts of Christ's friendship is a sharing in his cross--but the suffering comes not from denying friendship but from attempt-ing to live it without self-interest, to have affection but not attachment. We do not reach this fully in this life. In trying to distinguish the different loves, Teresa says, "I don't think I know which love is spiritual, or when sen-sual love is mixed with spiritual love" (Way, 6.2). Yet this is often the condition we are in. We have the choice of pulling back in fear we will become attached, or of crossing boundaries, ignoring cautions as Teresa did early in her life and fostering distracting and harmful rela-tionships. Or--a third choice--we can choose the path Teresa did and respond to the invitation to friendship with Christ and trust that his grace and mercy will grad-ually bring our friendships in line with his own. In her letters Teresa shows herself to be a very human person. She chides others for not valuing her friendship enough to write more; another "owes her more." Showing great affection, she speaks of being lonely, scolds, encourages, pleads. Her words leap energetically off the pages. There is her great affection for Jertnimo Gracifin, a friendship that brings her much joy and sor-row, and is a puzzlement to others. In her "Spiritual Testimonies" she writes of a time when she "was living in great~ loneliness" and says Gracifin was the only one to "give me comfort, and he had to be absent most of the time." The loneliness continued, and she had a curious intellectual vision of the Lord placing "himself in my Review for Religiot~s arms as in the painting" of the body of Jesus in his mother's arms after being taken down from the cross,s Teresa came to acknowledge her natural gifts for friendship and to thank God for them. She allowed them to be used to draw others to .Jesus. In our world that strives to improve communication skills, set boundaries, express our sexuality neither too much nor too little, where does friendship fit in? The recently beatified Mother Teresa of Calcutta spoke of the great loneliness in the United States. Sexual abuse continues to be a problem and to cause problems in the church and in the world at large. Where is the friendship that St. Teresa of Avila wrote of and lived? Teresa, teach us to be friends of Christ that we may be friends of one another. Notes ~ The Book of Her Life, chapter 1, section 8. Hereafter till note 2, references to this work will be supplied in parentheses in the text. The translations used in this article are those of Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD, The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, Vols. 1, 2, 3 (Washington: ICS Publications, 1987, 1980, 1985). ¯ Note 2 begins a second series of parenthetical references, and note 3 begins a third series. 2 Meditations on the Song of Songs, chapter 1, section 10. 3 The Way of Perfection, chapter 4, section 7. 4 Teresa as quoted in the translators' note to The Way of Perfec-tion, 4.8. s Spiritual Testimonies, 53. 63.1 2004 ROBERT P. MALONEY Five Faces ofRosalie Rendu On 9 November 2003 Pope John Paul II beatified Rosalie Rendu, a Daughter of Charity. She was the Mother Teresa of 19th-century France. Her energy, creativity, and courage leap out from the accounts of those who knew her.~ Fifty thousand people flocked to her funeral on 9 February 1856. What was said that day, and the articles written in her praise, remind me of Shakespeare's eloquent words: When she shall die, Take her and cut her out in little stars, And she will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night.2 The church beatifies and canonizes men and women pre-cisely for that reason: that they may shine out like stars for us, that in the midst of darkness we may see what it really means to be holy. Saints make holiness real, con-crete. In this article I offer five faces of Rosalie Rendu. Prodigious Worker and Organizer Rosalie was born on 9 September 1786, in Confort, a tiny village in southern France. At just fifteen years of Robert P. Maloney CM, superior general of the Congregation of the Mission, is a frequent contributor to our pages. He resides at Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma; Italy. ¯ Review for Relig4ous age, she set off for Paris. There she spent more than fifty years of her life in the capital's poorest neighborhood, Mouffetard. Her works were prodigious. She began as a teacher in a primary school, which she later ran. Though she herself had little formal education (biographers say she never managed to write French very well), Rosalie and others labored strenuously to teach children to read, write, and do basic mathematics along with learning their catechism. For young girls and needy women, she soon orga-nized courses in sewing and embroidering. She then founded a day-care center and a nursery school fox; the children of working mothers. For these same mothers she started a branch of the Children of Mary. In addition, she and the sisters ran a center for the distribution of food and firewood, with a pharmacy, a clinic and a clothes dispensary. She helped in counseling the newly founded Society of St. Vincent de Paul. She assisted in the reestablishment of the Ladies of Char-ity in 1840. She cared for the sick and the dying in the recurring cholera epidemics, and throughout her life she visited the poor and infirm in their homes. During the several epidemics between 1849 and 1854, withas many as a hundred and fifty persons dying in the parish every day, Rosalie and the sisters kept doing all they could. They attended to the living, accompanied the dying, and buried the dead. Though Rosalie was not an advocate of orphanages, in 1851 she took over the running of one; in 1852 she began a home for the elderly. The secret of Rosalie's enormous energy was this: she saw the face of Christ in the face of every poor person. 63.1 2004 Maloney * Five Faces of RosMie Rendu In the judgment of the theologian who examined her writings, the secret of Rosalie's enormous energy was this: she saw the face of Christ in the face of every poor person. One of the sisters who lived with her remem-bered Rosalie encouraging the community: "Love our good God very much. Do not be sparing in your duty; serve the poor well, always speaking to them with great kindness . The ruder they are, the more dignified you must be. Remember, our Lord hides behind those rags.''3 Local Superior When she was not yet seventeen years old, a seem-ingly sickly Rosalie was sent away from the novitiate of the Daughters of Charity in the hope that a change of air would improve her health. It is hard to imagine that the air was much better in inner-city Mouffetard, but she thrived there. She quickly won the hearts of the sisters of the house. When she returned to the motherhouse for "habit taking," the local superior sent a letter to the superioress general saying: "I am very happy with this little Rendu. Give her the habit, and send her back to me.''4 And so it was that she took her first step toward becoming the "apos-de of the Mouffetard district," where she would spend the remainder of her life. In 1815, when she was twenty-nine years old, she became the superior. She carried out this service for the next forty-one years, until her death. What was Rosalie like as a superior? Those who gave firsthand testimony about her noted three things: (1) Describing Rosalie's relationship with the sisters in the community, her cousin speaks of her "infinite tender-ness." She was sensitive to what went on around her. Some thought she was sensitive even to a fault. In 1844, when two sisters whom she loved died, Rosalie broke into tears and wrote, "I rebelled in some ways against the hand that struck us, yet I am confident that these two angels will obtain mercy for me.''5 Review for Religious (2) Young sisters loved her. The house where she was superior became a "formation house," so to speak, to which many were sent. From Rosalie they learned first-hand how to serve the poor. Twenty-two postulants lived with her over the years. Eighteen sisters prepared for vows under her direction, starting in 1832. At the time of her death, twelve sisters lived in her community; half of them had been sisters for less than four years. She waged war against pride. One of the sisters says: "In spir-itual direction she pursued this fault relentlessly: 'It's our number-one enemy,' she said. 'Look for it . . . it dis-guises itself to trick us and confuse us, but we must grab it by the throat and choke it.'''6 (3) Rosalie's incredibly active house was also a house of prayer. The community rose each morning at four. One sister testified: "If we had to accompany her on a charitable visit during our prayer time, she said to us as we walked: 'Let's begin our meditation!' She suggested a subject for meditation in a few simple, clear words and entered into prayer." One of her best friends, the Viscount of Melun, quotes her as saying, "I never pray so well as I do in the street.''7 Intrepid Woman By all accounts this tender woman was fearless. Rosalie lived in turbulent times. As a child she experi-enced the Reign of Terror in France; her family hid a nonjuror priest in their home. She experienced the rev-olutions of 1830 and 1848 and the terrible cholera epi-demics of 1832, 1849, and 1854. Rosalie walked among the wounded, the sick, and the dying with little fear for her own health. She and the sisters ministered to thou-sands of cholera victims. The most well-known incidents of Rosalie's bravery took place during the revolutions. When she and the sis-ters hid revolutionaries, Monsieur Gisquet, the chief of69 63.1 2004 Maloney ¯ Five Faces of Rosalie Rendu police, signed a warrant for her arrest. But the local policemen warned him that her arrest would cause a riot in the Mouffetard neighborhood. Gisquet himself went to notify Rosalie of the warrant. She replied: "I am a Daughter of Charity. I have no flag. I help the unfortu-nate wherever I meet them. I try to do good to them without judging them, and I promise you that, if you yourself are ever being pursued and ask my help, I will not refuse it.''s The chief dropped the matter. Fierce fighting broke out within the city during the revolution of 1848. The archbishop of Paris mounted the barricades in an effort to stop the slaughter and was shot dead. The fighting became even more intense. General Cavaignac, later president of France, decided on a massive bombardment of the Mouffetard neigh-borhood, but first offered the sisters safe-conduct out. Rosalie responded to his messenger: "Please thank the general and tell him that we are the servants of the poor and also their mothers and that we want to die with them.''9 Rosalie and the general became lifelong friends. --70J Friend of the Poor and the Rich On many occasions I have walked to the cemetery in Montparnasse to visit the grave of Rosalie Rendu, which is near that of Jean-Paul Sartre. Fresh flowers always lie there. On the simple stone are engraved the words: To Sister Rosalie Her grateful friends The poor and the rich She knew how to be friend to both. The poor loved her deeply because they sensed that she lived out precisely what a witness said she asked of those who accompanied her: "Welcome everyone. Speak to the poor with both kindness and dignity. Do not make them wait. Treat them as you would treat your father, your brothers, your sis-ters.'' 1° The rich, too, were attracted to Rosalie. They Review for Religious found her appeals irresistible. She knew how to engage their energies and their resources in the service of the poor. Her correspondence extends to the archbishop of Paris, superiors general, politicians, doctors, young stu-dents, relatives, and friends. She took on Frederick Ozanam and his companions as apprentices and thus par-ticipated in the birth of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. From 1833 until Rosalie's death, the Viscount of Melun visited her at least once a week to seek her advice and help in the service of the poor. Among those who gave Rosalie material aid were the king and queen, General Cavaignac, writ-ers and politicians like Lamartine and Caubert, and many local politicians and administrators. The ambassador of Spain, Donoso Cort6z, came to Rosalie's house weekly to receive a list of the poor to visit. When he himself fell ill in 1853, Rosalie assisted him until his death. On 27 February 1852 Rosalie was awarded the Cross of the Legion of Honor. On 18 March 1854 the Emperor Napoleon III and the Empress Eug6nie came to visit her at her house. ¯ The daily line of those seeking entrance into Rosalie's office was long. She worked effici.ently, writing little notes to remind herself of their requests. She sought to find some response, even if inadequate, to all the needs presented to her. Rosalie knew how to engage the energies and resources of the rich in the service of the poor. Faithful, Sometimes Misunderstood, Daughter of Charity Rosalie was revered in her own lifetime. People from all ranks of society came to see her. ~ But her extraordi-nary popularity sometimes raised eyebrows in high cir- 71 63.1 2004 --79,.2 Maloney ¯ Five Faces of RosMie Rendu cles. In the latter part of her life, she suffered from the disapproval of her superiors. The troubles began in the late 1830s, when Jean-Baptiste Nozo was superior gen-eral of the Congregation of the Mission and the Daughters of Charity. Because of a financial scandal, strong opposition to Nozo mounted up. Jean-Baptiste Etienne was his most formidable opponent. News of the conflict hit the papers, so that much of Paris was talking about it. Finally the archbishop of Paris intervened, com-posing a document of interdict against Etienne and oth-ers. Rosalie wanted the matter to end peacefully. She had good connections with the archbishop and went to intercede with him, refusing to leave without an answer and pleading with him to burn the d

Issue 52.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1993. ; frOe i g,i ous Christian Heritages and Contempora~ Living MAY-JUNE 1993 ¯ VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolsld Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~n Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1993 * VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents 326 feature Prophecy or Restorationism in Religious Life Gerald A. Arbuckle SM describes the effects of the prophetic and the restorationist movements on religious life. 340 350 witnessing Would That All Were Prophets~ Dianne Bergant CSA examines the 'meaning of prophecy in the life of religious congregations. Committed Christian Secularity Paul J. Philibert OP explores some areas of development for those called to the life of the secular institute. prayer and direction 364 Liturgy of the Hours: A Reflection Suzanne Zuercher OSB finds that the ritual praying of the Liturgy of the Hours manifests what monastic life is and needs to remain. 371 380 Get Serious! The Monastic Condemnation of Laughter Kenneth C. Russell suggests some ways for us to understand and give modern application to the monastic attitude towards laughter. A Mystical Moment: Spiritual Direction and the Adolescent Fred Herron highlights aspects of spiritual direction in the con-text of adolescent development. 322 Review for Religious 39O 418 428 432 446 454 religious leadership Religious-Leadership Competencies David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CSJ report on skills and characteristics which mark superior performance for contemporary religious leaders. Some Ruminations on the Identity of Religious David F. O'Connor ST reviews the current identity issues around religious life. An Identity Dilemma: Standing with the Poor Patricia McCann RSM focuses the question about a gap between the espoused ideal and the reality of standing with the poor in religious life and ministry. ~ living gospel values Poverty as the Embrace of Insecurity Richard J. De Maria CFC stresses that the insecurity of poverty in some form remains essential to religious life. Men Vowed and Sexual: Conversations about Celibate Chastity Selin D. Sammon ~MS and Judith Ann Zielinski OSF describe a project sponsored by the Conference of Major Superiors of Men to enhance the living of celibate chaste life by vowed men. A Story of Addiction and Co-Addiction William F. Kraft tells a story of how the problems of addiction and co-addiction can be signs of contradiction that lead to new and better living departments 324 Prisms 462 Canonical Counsel: Common Life and Houses 469 Book Reviews May-.~une 1993 323 prisms ~edo not talk much about "working at the virtuous life." Perhaps the Pelagian inference--that "working at it" is enough, all by itself---keeps us suspi-cious of such talk. Maybe we are reluctant to admit explic-itly that virtue is on our list of outmoded things. There is also the possibility, even the likelihood, that some people strong in virtue have offended us in some way. "Nice" people may be easier to live with and less offensive than people imbued with courage or fired up for justice' sake. But Jesus demands more of his followers than that they be nice. Christians in every age need to work at the vir-tuous life. Recently in North America the news media have made much of various accusations or admissions of sexual mis-conduct by bishops, priests, and religious. The result is that the leadership in the local church and in religious congregations has had the painful, but necessary, task of coming to terms with a difficult and disturbing situation. What becomes evident to those living the consecrated life is that celibate chastity is not only something which we can "lose," but also something to be worked at: that only through a lifetime effort does one grow in chastity and love. Various programs like Marriage Encounter and the Christian Family Movement and Teams of Our Lady have long stressed how couples need to Work at their marital chastity if they are going to deepen their love and grow to be ever more faithful to each other. In a similar way, through some painful reminders today, both men and 324 Review for Religious women in celibate commitment are being called to make the effort they need to make if they are to grow as loving celibate people. In the scholastic theology of St. Thomas Aquinas we are taught the meaning of the virtues of the Christian life through his masterly explanation of habit. It would be interpreting Thomas fairly to bring our commonsense thinking about acquiring a habit to our understanding of his insight into acquiring--"working at"--virtue. Without denying the primacy of grace, especially experienced in the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity, we need to put forth the human effort to make those qualities more deeply our own. Theological developments since Vatican II have stressed that, just as conversion is continual in a Christian's life, so too growth in virtue is never finished--nor can either of these occur in iso-lation; they demand the presence of the faith community. Similarly, we now see even more clearly that virtue, like conver-sion, is never a private matter but impacts the public and social sphere. Our very working at virtue gives force to our evangeliz-ing efforts in our families, communi.ties, and workplaces. As a case in point, then, there are recent efforts being made to ~work at celibate chastity within a community setting and not in isolation. As married people have discovered in their various Christian family organizations, it is within the faith community that growth in virtue finds its support and that marriage and fam-ily values are witnessed to and witnessed. "'Men Vowed and Sexual," a project sponsored by the U.S. Conference of Major Superiors of Men and reported on in this issue, is one way to achieve a com-munity setting of support and understanding for the celibate chaste development of individuals. In another effort to assist those who are committed to the tasks of spiritual formation, the Christian Institute for the Study of Human Sexuality has been announced by the staff of theJesuit Educational Center for Human Development. Along 0¢ith the primacy of the grace of God and continuing individual effort, such community projects point the way for all of us to "work at" virtue today. David L. Fleming SJ May-June 1993 325 feature GERALD A. ARBUCKLE Prophecy or Restorationism in Religious Life "Turmoil is going to break out among your tribes." --Hosea 10:14 Anthropologically a tribe is a gathering "of bands., hav-ing a feeling of unity deriving from numerous similarities in culture, frequent friendly contacts, and a certain com-munity of interest.''1 By this definition religious life before Vatican II was one tribe consisting of many bands or clans (congregations) bound together despite their individual differences by a common belief in the nature and purpose of religious life. Now this tribal oneness no longer exists. Today, instead of clans within one tribe, we have many dif-ferent tribes that do not share a common vision of reli-gious life. Even within the same congregation there can be several different tribes, each claiming that it alone is authentically interpreting religious life and the original founding congregational vision. Communication across the boundaries of these reli-gious- life tribes may be poor, as is commonly the case between different ethnic groups at any time in human society. Each tribe, says anthropologist Edward Hall, usu-ally takes the position of "thinking and feeling that any-one whose behavior is not predictable or is peculiar in any way is slightly out of his mind, improperly brought up, irresponsible, psychopathic, politically motivated to a point Gerald A. Arbuckle SM continues to write, lecture, and con-duct workshops on the refounding of religious life. His address is Refounding and Pastoral Development Unit; 1 Mary Street; Hunters Hill; Sydney, N.S.W. 2110; Australia. 326 Review for Religious beyond redemption, or just plan inferior.''2 This rather blunt (but generally accurate) statement of tribal ethnocentrism describes the strong prejudice-founded belief that my tribe is the center of everything, and all other groups or tribes are scaled and rated with reference to it. Unfortunately, the way some religious tribes within contemporary religious life at times view other groups-- with hostility and self-righteous intolerance--is not unlike Hall's description. Sometimes. religious-life tribes agree to co-exist side-by- side with apparent harmony; peace is maintained because they agree at least tacitly not to raise their significant differences over the m~aning of religious life. They deny or suppress the differ-ences lest exhausting tensions erupt openly. Dialogue, which demands an op.enness to the other and to the possibility of change, is difficult in these circumstances--even impossible. This article has a twofold function: first, to summarize why one religious-life tribe has fragmented into many different tribes or quasi-ethnic groups since Vatican II; and second, to describe the significant qualities of these tribal groups. From Tribe to Tribes in Religious Life Religious Life: Founding Myth Undermined. The founding myth .of religious life historically evolved wheri people began to gather together to live the radical values of the gospel, to devote, them-selves totally to the person of Christ and his kingdom values. The major mo;vements (monastic, conventual, and apostolic) were prophetic reactions to abuses or corruption of power within the church and society at large. Prophetic action is thus integral to the founding stoW of religious life. Johannes Metz correctly asserts that religious communities must be "a kind of shock therapy" challenging the church to live the fullness of Christ's message. "Against the dangerous accommodations and questionable com-promises that the church . . . can always incline to," he writes, "they press for the uncompromising nature of the gospel and of the imitation of Christ.''3 Myths bind people together with a common vision. They are value-impregnated beliefs and notions, born in sacred time and space, that people live by and live for; at the level of the culture they are primarily unconscious, powerful in their influence, and partic-ularly difficult for people to articulate objectively except in stoW form or by describing the life histories of their culture's heroes or May-a~une 1993 327 Arbuckle ¯ Prophecy or Restorationism: heroines. In reality people adhere to relatively few archetypal myths, of which the conspiratorial enemy and the all-powerful hero-liberator are central kinds. Myths provide a feeling of cer-tainty, direction, and trust rather than the paralysis, fear, or bewil- The council challenged religious to rediscover the prophetic heart of their ministry when it directed them back to the person of Christ, the founding experience of their own congregations,. and the apostolic needs of the world. derment that chaos--the opposite of order or the predictable--brings.* Over time, however, myths can drift away from their original message without people' being quite aware of what is happening. This in fact hap-pened to the founding myth of reli-gious life. In recent centuries religious life has lost its prophetic emphasis within the church and the world and has become based on three pivotal assumptionscontrary to its original founding vision: the world is funda-mentally evil and tobe avoided, reli-gious are the spiritual elite of the church, and their task is to be uncrit-ically supportive of the ecclesiastical and pastoral status quo.~ Vatican II dramatically under-mined these aberrant assumptions and the myth they sustained when it stated that the world is capable of redemption and the church must inter-act with it through a process of exchange/dialogue (that is, incul-turation). 6 Furthermore, all people--not only religiousware called to, and are capable of, holiness.7 Religious asChristians could no longer remove themselves from the concerns of the world, nor could they ever again consider themselves the spiritual elite of the church. Finally, the council challenged religious to rediscover the prophetic heart of their ministry when it directed them back to the person of Christ, the founding experience of their own congregations, and the apostolic needs of the world. The revi-talized founding myth was not neatly put together by the coun-cil and it would be a long time before religious could rediscover with confidence its authentic nature and implications. Reactions to Vatican Ih Conversionist and Restorationist Groups. It is a basic experience of anthropology that any interference with a founding story or myth of a group--even when fully justified (as 328 Review for Religious occurred at Vatican II) and intellectually assented to by the peo-ple involved--is catastrophic or chaotic at the level of identity, belonging, or feeling.8 A satisfying and interiorized myth is never re-created quicHy out of turmoil or chaos. The reaction to a dramatic mythological change, such as hap-pened to religious life at Vatican II, normally follows a fairly pre-dictable pattern. First, there is an effort to control initial unease or anxiety through legislative or structural changes so that an anxiety-reducing order can once again emerge, but political or legislative action alone is ineffective without an attitudinal open-ness to an as yet unformulated new myth. The phase of chaos follows; neither traditional support systems nor mere structural changes provide the needed sense of direction and belonging. Symptoms of depression--such as anger, numbness, "lostness," feuding, denial, sadness, witch-hunting to assign blame for the chaos--emerge within the group or in individuals. As the chaos persists, people are apt to turn to one of two options: either conversionist or escapist movements. Leaders of these movements have the charismatic ability of articulating appropriate visions and strategies to achieve them. Conversionist movements develop when people recognize that the way to change is not by nostalgically and uncritically returning to a former cul-tural stage but by struggling to relate to an entirely different ambience. The building of a new founding myth is painful, demanding courage to let go the past, the willingness to walk in the darkness of uncertainty and ambiguity, waiting, creating and testing new ways of acting adapted to the changing circumstances. No sudden solution to the malaise of the chaos is possible.9 Commonly many people cannot cope with the darkness and uncertainty demanded by the conversionist approach. They seek the escapist option with its fundamentalist and simplistic remedies to the confusion. Fundamentalistic or sect movements are com-mon today within Islam, Judaism, and Christianity and in the arena of politics just as they have always been in times of dra-matic social or cultural changes. They take various forms. For example, some are millenarianl° as they promise a dramatic and imminent appearance of a world of meaning and belonging to their disoriented followers, on condition they commit themselves without question to simplistic and authoritarian-led actions. The popularity of these fundamentalist movements today~ testifies to the extent and depth of the cultural upheaval through- May-3~ne 1993 329 Arbuckle ¯ Prophecy or Restorationism Restorationism is the vigorous effort to return the church uncritically to the pre-Vatican II structures, practices, and attitudes. out the world in reaction to the speed and radicality of contem-porary technological; social, and economic changes. Patrick Arnold's definition of fundamentalism is particularly apt: it is "an aggressive and marginalized religious movement which, in reac-tion to the perceived threat of moder-nity, seeks to return its home religion and nation to traditional orthodox prin-ciples, values, and texts through the co-option of the central executive and legislative power of both the religion itself and the modern national state.''t2 This definition highlights the emphasis that fundamentalists place on the role of civil and religious governments to coerce people to accept their beliefs. James Hunter sees fundamentalist movements as "characterized, to varying degrees, by a quality of organized anger." They aggressively want to make history right again.13 Intellectual arguments will not convert people away from fundamental-ism because fundamentalism is a reaction to a loss of felt belong-ing, not necessarily to inadequate intellectual reasoning. Fundamentalist movements form an increasingly strident, intolerant, and powerful force within the Catholic Church today, indicative of the extent of the chaotic upheaval sparked off by such forces as Vatican II and the opening 0f the church to a world caught up in its own tumultuous change--the revolution of expressive disorder of the 1960s and early 1970s.14 These restora-tionist movements demand that the church return to its pre- Vatican II culture with its patriarchal, dependency, and authoritarian models of leadership. Whoever dares to question what fundamentalists do are branded as contemporary "witches" who are out to undermine in a conspiratorial way what restora-tionists define as orthodoxy. In brief, restorationism is the vig-orous effort to return the church uncritica'lly to the pre-Vatican II structures, practices, and attitudes. (I say "uncritically" because there are some key pre-Vatican II values that need to be revital-iz. ed, for example, a respect for a living tradition.) Restorationism is an abuse of power because key values of Vatican II--for exam-ple, collegiality, the call to inculturate the faith within local 330 Review for Religious churches--are either rejected or undervalued. Like Thomas the Apostle, fundamentalist or restorationist Catholics earnestly seek clear-cut signs of the presence of the Lord: "Unless I can see the holes that the nails made in his hands and can put my finger into the holes they made, and unless I can put my hand into his side, I refuse to believe" (Jn 20:25). Contemporary Religious Life: Tribal Models .With the disintegration of the then prevailing founding myth of religious life, in addition to the other upheavals consequent on Vatican II, religious today are torn between the enticements of fundamentalist or restorationist solutions to the chaos they expe-rience and the painful requirements of the call to radical conver-sion. Those opting for the latter take to heart the words of Christ to Thomas: "Blessed are those who hav~ not seen and yet believe" (Jn 20:29). They recognize that the church (and religious life) is in the liminality stage of a crucial rite of passage--the pre-Vatican II church has yet to be let go and the new to be confidently cre-ated based on Vatican II values. It is a time of pain, lament, and hope. Prophets and prophetic movements are needed to create the "pastoral quantum-leaps" necessary to bring the gospel into interaction with the most.urgent needs of today--secularism and political/economic oppression for example.~s The following tribal models of contemporary religious life fall within what I will call "escapist" or "conversionist" categories. By "escapist" I mean that religious tribes within this category avoid in various ways the struggle to return to the original found-ing myth of religious life--that is, the prophetic challenging of the church and the world. "Conversionist" tribes, however, struggle to live this challenge. My purpose in offering these categories and models is to help clarify an increasingly c.omplex situation within religious life; it is not my aim to judge the subjective moti-vations of individual religious. Finally, a word of warning about the use of models. An anthro-pological model is not a perfect representation of the real world. Rather, a model is very much a necessary research construct to facilitate a better understanding of very complex situations. A model reflects reality to the extent that it highlights certain emphases or trends. For the sake of clarity unnecessary details are omitted. A situation can then be researched to discover just May-J~ne 1993 331 Arbuckle ¯ Prophecy or Restorationism how far it diverges from or conforms to the model. In practice one will rarely find in real life a perfect embodiment of a model; par-ticular qualities of many models will tend to be present, but the characteristics of one model will predominate over others. A model is not a caricature since the latter is a deliberately inaccu-rate representation of reality for comic effect; No one expects a caricature to be modified in the light of reality.~6 Category 1: "Escapist" Religious-Life Tribes The Nativistic Tribal Model. Tribal leaders claim that the unquestioning return to the symbols (for example, religious garb), myths, and rituals of.religious life before Vatican II will in some magical way resolve the loss of meaning or relevance among reli-gious. Fundamentalist and sect-like tribes that approximate to this model fanatically assume "we have the truth and the pope is on our side," yet, like all Catholic fundamentalists, they selectively read ecclesial documents to support their position and rather thoroughly ignore the social teaching of the popes. These com-munities withdraw from the "contaminating world" (which they look upon with considerable doom and gloom), refuse all dia-logue with their opponents, and avoid any critique of restora-tionism in the church. In fact, they are zealous supporters of ecclesiastical restorationism. Prayer is stressed, but only the pre- Vatican II forms that highlight a personal or privatized holiness removed from the world's concerns. They cultivate, as the Puebla document says, "a spirituality of evasion.''~7 Candidates are encouraged to join, but screening and training programs are inadequate for the demands of today's apostolic work. The more who join, the more certain nativistic tribes are that God loves them. In brief, they place the survival of their con-gregation over their commitment to the full mission of the church. The Conservative Tribal Model. In the conservative model, lead-ers are moved by the numerical success of sect-like and restora-tionist lay movements within the contemporary church; they uncritically encourage the return to pre-Vatican II traditions-- for example, quasimonastic structures for apostolic communities, traditional religious habits, and pious customs--but with less fanaticism than nativistic leaders. Souls are to be converted to the Lord, compassion shown to the poor, but the faith/justice 3 3 2 Review for Religious apostolates are to be avoided as irrelevant and dangerous to one's consecrated vocation. Conformist-oriented candidates are encour-aged to join these tribes, particularly if they have above-average needs for security and identity. Dependency and conformity are valued "virtues" in this model as in the previous one. New forms of prayer are allowed--as, for example, in the charismatic movement--provided they do not lead to involve-ment in the social-justice apostolate. Asceticism is an esteemed virtue, but within the narrow limits of the individual's journey to the Lord or as a way of encouraging him or her to submit to authority and the congregational status quo. Liberation theology and inculturation are considered dangerous "leftist" ideologies, and criticism of ecclesiastical restorationism is not considered necessary nor encouraged. The Millenarian Tribal Model. Millenarian movements immi-nently and dramatically expect the miraculous transformation of the world by supernatural methods. In millenarian religious tribal life, all forms of instant-holiness or inner-peace programs are .offered by tribal leaders--for example, encounter-group sessions, bodily relaxing techniques, immediate-union-with-God prayer sessions. Pastoral planning programs are formulated with the assurance that they will automatically lead to an increase in voca-tions. Often, as a sign of one's authentic conversion, in true mil-lenarian style religious indiscriminately discard as "old-fashioned" any reference to the past; thus, for example, the great spiritual traditions of Saints Teresa and John of the Cross are seen as of lit-tle or no value.Is Religious keep searching feverishly from one workshop to another for the "right leader, or spiritual/professional guru, to describe the latest way to inner peace and a firm sense of direc-tion" for themselves personally and their congregations. Try harder, they feel, and the correct miraculous technique will turn up eventually. Leaders and followers are so concerned about inner-peace and identity issues that ecclesiastical restorationism and the apostolic demands of the world are of little concern to them. The Therapeutic or "Me-istic" Tribal Model.19 In the previous tribal model, religious do have concern for the welfare of the group and its future, even though it be in an introverted way. However, group life and concern for its future are of minimal importance to the therapeutic tribal model. Tribal life is marked by individualism, excessive concern for self-fulfillment, and uncrit- May-a~une 1993 333 /trbuckle ¯ Prophecy or Restorationism ical acceptance of secular consumer or material standards. The group andits leaders exist solely to support the narcissistic, indi-vidualistic, and independent aspirations of its members. There is a paradox in this tribe: rampart individualism on the one hand and the desperate need for personal affirmation and support from other tribal members on the other. Individuals may undertake important apostolic work, but it is done with little or no reference to their religious tribal com-mitments or vision. In other words, the links between members and the corporate vision are so weak that the tribe is equivalently a social club; a typical attitude would be: "I remain in touch with my community only as long as it serves my needs." If restora-tionism is criticized, it is only because it is thought to be an obsta-cle to the pursuit of individualism and personal self-fulfillment. The prophetic corporate commitment of religious life within the church and the world has no meaning in this tribal model. The Neo-Conservative T~:ibal Model. Religious gather around leaders who were once fervent advocates of change, but have now become overly fearful of the chaos and the extremes of attempted adaptation programs they see around them. They believe that only slow, measured ox~ predictably safe apostolic adaptation to the world will achieve new expressions of religious life. Orderly pastoral planning becomes an ideology or an end in itself, not a condition for bold creative apostolic action in response to the most urgent pastoral needs of the world. There must be no diver-gences from the pastoral plan lest chaos erupt.2° "Risk is out, order is in" becomes axiomatic. It is assumed that revitalization can occur only if the whole community or congregation moves in response to agreed-to mis-sion statements and strategic pastoral planning. Intra-group ten-sions and conflict are to be avoided at all costs: "Let the province move when all are ready and willing to do so; otherwise no change is to be sanctioned." The sense of belonging to or affiliation with the congregation is viewed as more important than the struggle for the religious community to realize its primary task of prophetically challenging a secularizing world and the church. Creative religious who believe that chaos requires a more rad-ical linking between the gospel and cultures are marginalized or pressured out of the community since they threaten the group's desire for an orderly approach to refounding. The faith/justice apostolate is only lightly supported lest involvement in it disturb 334 Review for Religious the unity of the community. Any critique of restorationism is couched in unchallenging or vague tones for the same reason. The Radical Non-Conversion Tribal Model. These tribes are led by people who have a vision of a radical, social-justice program. However, because the faith values of religious life do not impinge on their consciousness, they see themselves only as social workers, activists, or enablers of others. Their view of the gospel is limited only to the procla-mation of forms of liberation. They do not see that their "contribution to lib-eration is incomplete if [they] neglect to proclaim salvation in Jesus Christ.''2t Tribal life in this model is very fragile; either people withdraw from religious life since it no longer has any meaning for them, or they remain, generally with bitterness against their congregation and the church, living The ultimate identity of religious comes from their faith in the person of Christ and his mission to the world, especially to the marginalized and powerless. highly individualistic lives, refusing any effort to work toward an authentic religious-life vision. There is an un-Gospel-like harsh-ness to their criticism of restorationism within the church. Category 2: Transformative/Refounding Tribal Model Tribes within this, category are transformative or prophetic communities recognizing that the only way out of the chaos is through radically new faith-justice, hope-inspired, corporate action in which the gospel message is directed to the most urgent needs of today. The ultimate identity of these religious tribes comes from their faith in the person of Christ and his mission to the world, especially to the marginalized and powerless. The chaos is seen in biblical and anthropological terms as potentially a graced experience--the chance to rethink the mission of religious life and the tribe's commitment to it. Hence, for exam-ple, these religious tribes struggle to be living witnesses to the radical demands of prayerful asceticism in opposition to the sym-bols of consumerism and "instant spirituality"; living witnesses to the virtue of hope in order to counter symbols that seek to May-ffune 1993 335 Arbuckle ¯ Prophecy or Restorationism negate any redemptive and eschatological power of suffering; liv-ing witnesses to the need to dialogue with the world so as to counter the elitism/sectarianism of restorationist Catholicism; living witnesses through their lifestyle and attitudes to God's mercy, Jesus Christ, in concern for the alienated and the oppressed; living witnesses to vibrant community-life relation-ships founded on interdependence, mutuality, and faith sharing to counter the symbols of excessive individualism, abuse of author-ity/ power in society and in the church; living witnesses to a spir-ituality of involvement with the world, especially the powerless, to counter a spirituality of evasion.22 Through their imaginative, faith-oriented action they create a new founding myth of reli-gious life, a vision in which creative and prophetic action is an integral and primary quality. For these transformative tribes, it is Christ's mission that has priority, not the physical survival of the community. If they dis-cover it is God's will that they are to die, then they accept this as the chance to enter more deeply into the mystery of Christ's suf-fering and resurrection. Consequently, if people do ask to join these tribes, they are accepted only if there are well-founded hopes that these candidates have the demanding qualities of maturity to live and work on the prophetic edge of the church and the world. These communities foster within themselves prophetic or refounding persons who are able to relive within today's context the experience of the original congregational founding people. They are pained to see the void between the gospel and the needs of the world; so, like their original founding members, they move to create pastoral strategies to bridge this gulf. They, together with others in their communities, are dreamers who do. These are rest-less or liminal people in the sense that they are on the edge of what is considered to be the "correct or predictable" way of being reli-gious; they are prepared to critique everything according to gospel values. Not surprisingly, therefore, they and their communities evoke anxiety within tribal groups of category 1; their vision is too threatening so marginalization, tribulation, and suffering are their inevitable lot (as has commonly been the case with founding peo-ple of religious communities over the centuries).23 These apostolically risk-oriented leaders and prophetic tribes maintain their zeal only as long as they prayerfully admit to their own inner powerlessness without the grace of God. Once they allow their own attachment.s to the predicable to go, they repeat- 336 Review for Religious edly rediscover, as did the lamentation psalmists of old, that noth-ing is impossible to them through the mercy and love of the Lord.24 Restorationism is critiqued with a boldness of apostolic faith, love, and compassion because they take to heart the fact that "Christ summons the church., to that continual reforma-tion of which she always has need, insofar as she is an institution of [people] here on earth.''2s Conclusion In the centuries immediately before Vatican II, religious life had become a bastion of the unchanging status quo within the church. We even called it the "religious state." But by its origins it .was never intended to be something static, but an ongoing expe-rience of prophetically becoming in reaction to the ever-changing apostolic needs of the world. Once religious say they "have got it all together," then they have lost their passion for creative gospel life. Today, Paul VI said, the "split between the gospel and culture is without a doubt the drama of our time,''z6 so religious to be true to the original founding myth must be at the cutting edge of the gospel and culture. This is an inescapably agonizing experience, for it means cri-tiquing not just the world but also the church itsel~---a church in which the forces of restorationism are daily more visibly present. Religious life is in the stage that anthropologist Victor Turner terms liminality,27 that is, the betwixt-and-between stage; the unnecessary structural constraints of the former state of religious life have gone, and the reinvigorated founding story of prophetic action has yet to emerge with confidence. It is a stage rich in imaginative apostolic potential for the future. But it is also a dan-gerous phase for those religious who are excessively frightened of the darkness of uncertainty and ambiguity. They are tempted to flee into the false comforts of restorationism and to reengage uncritically the structures of pre-Vatican II religious life, seeing around them "nothing but prevarication and ruin"ZS--the defeatist attitude John XXIII warned us against. When this happens, these religious turn their backs on what is the most exciting and prophetically stimulating period for religious life in centuries. May-~une 1993 337 Arbuckle ¯ Prophecy or Restorationism Notes ' R. Linton, The Study of Man: An Introduction (Appleton-Century- Crofts, 1936), p. 231. 2 Edward Hall, Beyond Culture (New York: Doubleday/Anchor, 1976), p. 43 3 Johannes Metz,F0110wers of Christ: The Religious Life and the Church (Exeter: Burns and Oates/New York: Paulist, 1978), p. 12; see also an analysis of the prophetic nature of religious life by D. O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria, 1991). 4 See G. Arbuckle, Earthing the Gospel: An Inculturation Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (London: Geoffrey Chapman/Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 26-43; see also M. Eliade, The Myth of the Eternal Return (New York: Bollingen/Pantheon, 1954), chap. 1. s See Arbuckle, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist/London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1988), pp. 68-77. 6 See "The Church in the Modern World," The Documents of Vatican II, ed. Walter Abbott (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1966), §44; for expla-nations see Arbuclde, Earthing the Gospel, pp. 15-20. 7 See "The Church," §40f. 8 See M. Douglas, Natural Symbols: Explorations in Cosmology (New York: Pantheon, 1970), p. 38. 9 See Arbuckle, Out of Chaos, pp. 14-28. ,0 See explanations by Norman Cohn, The Pursuit of the Millennium (New York: Oxford Un!versity, 1970). ~l For an overview of world fundamentalism see Concilium, no. 3, 1992. ¯ ,2 "Reemergence of Fundamentalism in the Catholic Church," in The Fundamentalist Phenomenon, ed. N. Cohen (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1990), p. 174. ~3 "Fundamentalism in Its Global Contours," ibid, p. 63. ,4 See overview of Catholic fundamentalism by T. O'Meara, Fundamentalism: A Catholic Perspective (New York: Paulist, 1990), passim, and Patrick Arnold, "The Rise of Catholic Fundamentalism," in America, 11 April 1987, pp. 298-302. *s See Arbuclde, Earthing the Gospel, pp. 187-220. ,6 For an analysis of the nature and usefulness of anthropological mod-els see L.C. Luzbetak, The Church and Cultures (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1988), pp. 135-139. ,7 Final Document, Conference of Latin American Bishops, 1979, § 826. ~8 See T. Merton, "Cargo Cults in the South Pacific," in America, vol. 121, no. 5, 1969, p. 96. ,9 See a fuller development by Arbuclde, "Suffocating Religious Life: A New Type Emerges," in The Way Supplement 65 (1989): 26-39. 338 Review for Religious 20 For insights into the dangers of overplanning see R. Stacey, Managing Chaos (London: Kogan Page, 1992), pp. 43f., 208. 2, Evangelii Nuntiandi, 1975, §47. zz See Arbuclde, Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, 1986), p. 41. 23 See J. Lozano, Foundresses, Founders, and Their Religious Families (Chicago: Claret, 1983), pp. 65-70. 24 See Arbuclde, Change, Grief and Renewal in the Church OgVestminster, Md.: Christian Classics, 1991), pp. 61-107. 2s "Decree on Ecumenism," Abbott, §6. 26 Ibid, §20. 27 See V. Turner, The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure (New York: Aldine, 1969), p. 95. For a summary of Turner's insight into limi-nality see Arbuclde, Earthing the Gospel, pp. 74f. 28 "Open!ng Speech to the Council," Abbott, p. 712. Will He? Veils gone, Securities gone, "Respect" gone. Adulation and ~. Convent-mysteries All gone. Can I sing my Song of Songs to Him In the rags of who I really am ? Will He love me still? Without my baubles And my cover-ups, Will He still love me? Crushed in His arms, 0 wonder of it all! I came to know That, in my poverty, He loves me Twice as much! Maxine Inkel SL May-~'ane 1993 339 DIANNE BERGANT Would That All Were Prophets witnessing In 1989 the joint assembly of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (LCWR/CMSM) drew up ten charac-teristics of the "transformative" religious life of the future. The first of these, prophetic witness, is described as fol-lows: "Being converted by the example of Jesus and the values of the gospel, religious in the year 2010 will serve a prophetic role in church and society. Living this prophetic witness will include critiquing societal and eccle-sial values and structures, calling for systemic change, and being converted by the marginalized with whom we serve." The following reflections have been prompted by this statement. "Behold, I am doing a new tbing" (Is 43:19) Before we discuss prophetic witness, we should briefly consider prophetic insight: Why is prophetic insight needed? Where does it originate? Prophetic insight is born in times of crisis, in its basic Greek meaning of decision and not its popular-usage meaning of misfortune or distress. In a time of crisis, a community is at a turning point and needs some kind of decisive direction--or the community should be at a turning point but, failing to recognize this, needs someone to call it to repentance and reform, to conver- Dianne Bergant CSA presented the substance of this article in a talk to the chapter members of her congregation, the Sisters of St. Agnes. Her address is Catholic Theological Union: 5401 S. Cornell Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60615. 340 Review for Religious sion, to turning. But, of course, a community is not always at some kind of crossroads; and, if it is relatively faithful to its nature and ideals so that its members encourage and inspire each other, it may not need, for the time being, any distinct and indepen-dent prophetic insight. When prophetic insight is needed, where will it come from? One cannot casually assume it in oneself; not every member of the community is blessed with it. While it is the fruit of a very personal relationship with God, it includes perceptive insight into the reli-gious implications of "the signs of the times," an insight that calls for decision and usually for some kind of change. Prophetic insight is lit by the flame of passionate attachment to the religious tradi-tion. It is critical, not for the sake of being critical, but for the sake of the word of God. Illumined by this word, it perceives either the faithfulness of believers to their religious identity or a lessening or lack of this faith-fulness. It sees clearly what people should embrace within society in order to deepen their commitment to life and to God, and it sees what they should avoid. Prophetic insight assesses the values of contemporary society with eyes of discerning faith, recogniz-ing any distortions and, on the other hand, relating society's authentic values to their divine source. The biblical prophets did not call for change for the sake of change. They spoke out when they were convinced that their communities were in peril. They were often alone as they chal-lenged the institutions and practices that limited and sometimes shattered the lives of their communities. At times the threat fac-ing .their communities was evident to all. For example, King Ahaz was well aware of his predicament when Isaiah warned him against Assyrian entanglement (Is 7), as was King Zedekiah when Jeremiah spoke to him (Jr 27). At other times the threat was more insidi-ous, and the community seemed oblivious of its surrender to seductions that compromised its religious identity. We read that Amos condemned the Israelites for disregarding their covenant responsibilities in favor of material prosperity and that Hosea denounced the people of his day for yielding to the religious prac-tices of the Canaanites. The prophets seem always to have been Prophetic insight is lit by the flame of passionate attachment to the religious tradition. May-June 1993 341 Bergant ¯ IVould That All Were Prophets convinced that the situation had to change because it threatened the community's relationship with God. Prophetic insight and satisfaction with the status quo are seldom compatible. The prophets usually found themselves in conflict with offi-cial leaders. This was not because they disdained authority or authoritative organization, but because the leaders were respon-sible for public policy and for the social and religious structures that supported that policy. Therefore, when those in responsible positions failed to lead as the religious tradition directed them or when the policies and structures themselves created divisions of privilege or marginality, the prophets denounced the status quo and called the community to a new vision. They seldom, if ever, proposed specific new approaches to the problems. They were the visionaries, not the policy makers. They were the ones who called for a new society; others would work to fashion such a society in line with the prophetic insight. We must not confuse prophetic with apocalyptic, which also grows out of a dissatisfaction with the prevailing situation. Prophetic insight, whether it is reassuring people of divine com-passion and care or warning them of God's indignation and jus-tice, is fundamentally positive. It knows that human history with all its possibilities, challenges, and risks is the matrix within which the reign of God takes shape. Down amid social, economic, and political reality, such insight is neither ignorant of nor removed from the needs, aspirations, movements, and accomplishments of society, for it believes that it is within society that God is revealed. A genuine prophetic spirit is fashioned and enlivened by the ener-gies of the day. It is not a spirit of the past or, for that matter, of the future, but of the present. It knows that God is immanent and continually involved in the lives and history of people here and now. No event, no moment in time, is beyond the realm of God's activity. Authentic prophetic i,nsight insists that human beings can indeed influence the course of history and, with divine assistance, can bring .to birth the reign of God. "Apocalyptic" comes from the Greek word for revelation. Since it refers to a divine message about the end of the world, in the minds of many it is associated with prophecy. It maintains that the world and all within it must be purged before it can enjoy that for which God intended it, and it believes that this purgation will be individual, social, and cosmic. For this reason an apocalyptic atti-tude is fundamentally pessimistic. It not only challenges but rejects 342 Review for Religious the prevailing social, economic, and political reality. It does not encourage involvement in the world in order to transform it. Instead, it advocates separation from the world in order to pre-vent contamination. An apocalyptic point of view contends that sinful history is ultimately and exclusively under divine control, and therefore it awaits the defeat of evil and the triumph of good-ness. It believes that only after purgation will the new age appear and God's reign be victorious and unchallenged. While prophetic fervor drives people into the marketplace (for example, Jesus going from village to village proclaiming the reign of God), apocalyptic zeal frequently bids them escape into the desert (for example, the Essenes of Qumr~n waiting for the reign of God to come). At times prophetic insight has been confused with an apostolic spirit, which also calls for decision, repentance, .and reform and is also 6ommitted to the transformation of the world. The word apos-tle comes from the Greek for "send," and it stresses the intimate relationship between t~he sender and the person sent, rather than any message that may be involved. In a veery significant way, the one sent actually represents the sender. "Those who hear you, hear me; and those who reject you, reject me" (Lk 10:16). Paul under-stood his call in this way: "So we are ambassadors for Christ, God making an appeal through us" (2 Cor 5:20). Such an intimate rela-tionship between the apostolic minister and the Lord is more than a matter of personal holiness. It is inextricably li.nked with repre-sentation of the Lord to the world. This is quite different from the situation of the prophet, where the focus is not on the person sent but on the message sent. Belief in the power of the word itself is clearly seen in a passage from Second Isaiah(55:10-11): For just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down And do not return there " till they have watered the earth, making i( fertile and fruitful, Giving seed to those who sow and bread to those who eat, So shall my word be that comes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it. Insisting on these distinctions does not suggest that an apos-tle cannot also be prophetic Or that a prophet may not at times May-June 1993 343 Bergant ¯ Would That All Were Prophets entertain an apocalyptic attitude. Rather, it is to point out that these perspectives are in fact different from each other. "Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy" (J1 3:1) The LCWR/CMSM statement speaks of conversion, critique, and change, language that implies that religious life is indeed at a crossroads. It further claims that "religious in the year 2010 will serve a prophetic role in church and society." Such a claim pre-sumes that an entire body of people will enjoy a kind of insight When the community finds itself at a crossroads, prophetic witness becomes more crucial and even more complex, because there is ambiguity among the members regarding it. that is normally not communal. This prompts us to ask: How can we ascribe prophetic witness to the whole group without compromising the power of unique prophetic insight? In answering this question, we must remember that religious commu-nities are made up of the daughters and sons of foundresses and founders, who critiqued the dominant social and reli-gious cultures of their times and found them wanting and who, as a result, brought new vision and devised new ways of living in the world and in the church. They frequently called for repentance and reform; they always called for decision. Their visions, their insights, became the charisms of their religious families. Because these charisms were always in some way prophetic, fidelity to tMm will always result in a form of prophetic witness. This will be true even when a community does not face a time of crisis, for devoted living out of the founding charism is the fundamental prophetic ideal to which members always commit themselves. Rededication to the ideals of the com-munity does not always call for prophetic insight, but it always demands faithful commitment. However, when the community finds itself at a crossroads, prophetic witness becomes more crucial and even more complex, because there is ambiguity among the members regarding it. It may be that social changes call for a new and contemporary inter-pretation of the founding charism (for example, the early Christian controversy regarding the admission of the Gentiles and the 344 Review for Religqous observance of the Law [Acts 16]). When this is the case, a com-munity faces a serious challenge. It must choose which guidelines to follow in critiquing the social change itself, and it must decide how the integrity of the charism can be guaranteed even as it is reinterpreted. The community as a group must discern how to address this challenge faithfully, and communities do not always achieve consensus on such matters without difficulty. On the other hand, the group may have lost its prophetic edge and may be itself in need of prophetic critique. Such a cri-tique should come from within the community, from an insider who knows the charism intimately and can bring its challenge to bear upon prevailing community understandings that are inade-quate. But who can perceive and articulate the hopes and ideals of the community in such a way as to speak both to it and for it? The community must discern this matter as well. (An example of such a dilemma is the ill-fated clash between the prophets Jeremiah and Hananiah [Jer 28].) Since the charism is to be found within the group and not merely in the intuitions of one individ-ual, the community must be able to recognize itself in the insights of its perceptive member or members. The task of a community at a crossroads is twofold: (1) a crit-ical examination of "the signs of the times" in order to discern the real religious needs of the moment and (2) a thorough anal-ysis of its established religious institutions and practices in order to discover their underlying traditional religious value. Only after such examination and analysis can the community hope to bring to bear on contemporary needs the traditional religious values that flow from its charism. It is not enough to approach this task with faith and commitment. Serious examination, rigorous eval-uation, and faithful yet imaginative reinterpretation are required, all of which call for extensive information, keen insight, and cre-ative visioning on the part of each member and the community as a whole. Not every member will be proficient at each step in this analysis and reinterpretation, but if each member has been formed in the founding charism, everyone will be able to enter into the process in a thoroughly beneficial manner. It is in this way that prophetic witness can be ascribed to the whole group without compromising the power of unique prophetic insight. "Behold, I make all things new" (Rv 21:5) Time and again we have heard it said that we are in the midst of a paradigm shift. May-June 1993 345 Bergant ¯ WouM That All Were Prophets Actually, because of the complexity of today's world, we are under-going the radical shift of m~iny paradigms. The ways in which we understood the world, society, human endeavor, and theology seem no longer adequate to meet and interpret the realities now facing us. The presuppositions of the modern world with its tech-ntlogic~ il achievements and its hierarchical manner 6f manage-ment are being seriously challenged. We ai'e standing on the threshold of the postmodern world, and yet we remain caught in many of the paradigms of the past. For example, we know that the patterns of growth and pros-perity which have provided many of us in the Western world with the benefits of material comfort can no longer be sustained at the same rate or for the same number of people as has been the case till now. One reason for this is that we are depleting our available material resources and are doing little or nothing to replenish them. There are limits to the environment's ability to sustain the kind of lifestyle to which the Western world has grown accus-tomed. Nature may be able to endure a certain amount of imbal-ance, but if its tolerance is exceeded it can no longer be expected to sustain our life. Despite our realization of this fact, we are still caught in a lifestyle that requires an inordinate amount of fuel for heating and for travel, of water for cooling, of paper for com-munication, and so forth. Another reason that we can no longer sustain our present pat-terns of gro.wth and prosperity is that we no~ realize that our privileged lifestyle has often been secured at the expense of the human rights of others. Frequently we are able to procure what we need or what we want at bargain prices only because workers that provide us with these products are paid wages far below what they need in order to live with dignity and hope. We already fight wars over land and the control of natural resources and at the expense of vulnerable people and nations. Still, we continue to live relatively comfortable lives while professing to be in solidar-ity with the disadvantaged. On another issue, we reject any androcentric or misogynist anthropological view that regards women as derivative. We refuse to consider ourselves natural followers rather than leaders, sup-porters rather than directors, dependents rather than providers. We have become sensitized to language and imagery that explic-itly insults, subtly minimizes, or completely disregards women. And yet at times we ourselves employ the very strategies of priv- 346 Review for Religious ilege and control, both among ourselves and with others that we believe relegated us to positions of subservience in the first place. In yet another area we are engaged in ministerial situations that call for a high degree of resilience and include extensive trav-eling. Ours is a kind of itinerant existence which demands that rootedness, a feature that is essential for any sound life, be found somewhere else than in a particular place. Despite this we are often efltangled in concepts of community that are more fitted to a sedentary lifestyle than a peripatetic one. . Finally, we have committed ourselves to the transformation of the world, a world that seems bent on greed and power and on violence in order to preserve privilege. We have taken on min-istries of advocacy; direct social service; ecological, peace, and justice activism; and the influencing of policy on all .levels of gov-ernment, and we carry out these ministries in dangerous circum-stances. We have committed ourselves to uncommon selflessness. All the same, we are often caught in the contemporary preoccu-pation with our own health, both physical and spiritual; the sur-vival of our group and our institutions, even at the price of compromised ideals; and the glorification of personal and pro-fessional accomplishments. None of the above is done hard-heartedly. Rather, things have changed either so rapidly or so imperceptibly that we have had neither the time nor the insight carefully to analyze either the old models that governed us or the new ones that are emerging. Nonetheless, we have already taken upon ourselves the task of fashioning an alternative way of living in the world, and if we are to be faithful to this commitment, we will have to examine seri-ously not only what we do but also how we do it. We will have to learn anew that the reign of God is more a process than~a prod-uct. It is brought to birth not so much in what we do as in the way we do it. Although it is in the world, it is not of the world, and this includes the world's systems and strategies. In order to bring this reign to birth, we must first acknowl-edge that this same world has played an active role in forming us into the people we have become. We possess many of its features (for example, our political and economic values), and we carry the effects of its history (for example, our inherited preferences and prejudices). Although it plays sugh a formative role in our lives, we are not always aware of the ways in which our particu-lar worldview promotes our own well-being and enhances our May-.l~une 1993 347 Bergant ¯ IVould That All 14Zere Prophets lives. It is very easy to take for granted the attitudes and mores into which we have been socialized and to presume that they and only they offer a way of dignified human living. Yet how will we be able to transform the world if we are not even aware of how We must listen to the marginal, not because their way of living and coping is better than ours, but because they help us to see what is wrong with a system that makes people marginal in the first place. much we are embedded in that world and its values, and how much that world and its values are embedded in us? Usually it is only when people feel restricted or in some way diminished (in other words, when they are not members of the dominant or influential group of the culture) that they question the justice of the restriction and then of the underlying rea-sons for it or for the continuation of it. This explains why those who suffer oppression or who are relegated to marginality or invis-ibility within a group are sometimes better critics of that group than are those who are privileged and satisfied. We must listen to the marginal, not because their way of liv-ing and coping is better than ours, but because they help us to see what is wrong with a system that makes people marginal in the first place. But even this may not be enough. We may need someone's prophetic insight to uncover for us our own complicity with such systems and with the world that we hope to transform. We may need to listen to the voices in the world and in the church that offer us insights that, left to our own devices, we may not be able to gain; voices that call for authentic collaboration rather than subtle control, for willing cooperation rather than self-interested competition, for genuine interdependence rather than aloof independence or inappropriate dependence, for gra-cious mutuality rather than uncompromising domination, for uni-versal justice rather than selective exploitation, for unaffected respect rather than veiled disdain, for tender compassion rather than detached indifference, for the reign of God rather than busi-ness as usual. This paper ends where it began, with the challenge of the LCWR/CMSM statement: "Being converted by the example of Jesus and the values of the gospel, religious in the year 2010 will 348 Review for Religious serve a prophetic role in church and society." The task before us appears monumental, but then we are taking on the whole world. Like our predecessors in their own periods of crisis, in many ways we are in uncharted waters, but they did not drown--so why should we expect to? We are being called upon to address urgent human needs that are not only social but also religious in nature. As we work to transform the world, we are bringing to birth the reign of God. Added to this challenge is the task of developing a contemporary theological understanding of who we are and what we are doing. We may still claim meaningful religious traditions that informed us in the past, but our conventional expression of these traditions is not always helpful in the postmodern world that we face. Despite all of this, we believe that we have been called by God and that we are the heirs of a prophetic charism. We are convinced that we must be steadfast in what we do, without being unyielding. We must be bold as we face the unknown, with-out being foolhardy. We must be confident of the pervasive power of God's love, without being presumptuous. We must be creative as we face the future, without being forgetful of the past. In all of this we must be genuinely humble, for after all it is God who promises: "Behold, I make all things new" (Rv 21:5). Letterto a Friend on Her Return from Retreat in a Hermitage Don't be afraid; you bring the forest and the trees back with you. Deer roam the corners of your room; shadows hang upon the curtdins, crouch playfully upon the pane. Healing is not out there; it's within if it's at all. Deep nights and double days, the soft wool throw of quiet. Peace: you carry it with you like persistent pink impatiens in your heart. Ann Maureen Gallagher IHM May-June 1993 349 PAUL J. PHILIBERT Committed Christian Secularity tkniS difficult to profess a Christian lifestyle that is very little own and largely misunderstood, but my hope is that secu-lar institutes will become better known and much more appreci-ated. In this article I argue that the consecrated life of the professed secular Christian is the most vivid example of the ide-als of Christian living in the secular world that were put forward at Vatican Council II. In the light of this council's theology, one would expect church leaders to illustrate the radical meaning of baptism by speaking at every opportunity of'the ideals and prac-tice of members of secular institutes. Yet four years ago, when Pope John Paul II spelled out in his apostolic exhortation Christifideles Laici the "vocation" and "mission" of the lay faithful in the church and in the world, he made only the briefest refer-ence to secular institutes: In the field of a "commonly shared" lay vocation, "spe-cial" lay vocations flourish. In this area we can also recall the spiritual experience of the flourishing of diverse forms of secular institutes that have developed recently in the church. These offer the lay faithful, and even priests, the possibility of professing the evangelical coun-sels of poverty, chastity, and obedience through vows or promises, while fully maintaining one's lay or clerical state.~ Many diocesan bishops in the United States appear to be unaware of the meaning of secular institutes or unconcerned about their development. What, we may ask, does this lacuna in the ordinary teaching of the church actually mean? Paul J. Philibert oP is prior provincial of the Southern Dominican Province. His address is 3407 Napoleon Avenue; New Orleans, Louisiana 70125. 350 Revie'w for Religious One can start the assessment by noting that the present papal administration seems to be distancing itself from some of the reformist orientations of the council. For so long have we been dividing recent church history into two periods called "concil-iar" and "postconciliar" that we have failed to recognize a more complex reality which needs to be named. Like many others, I would divide these years into three periods: 1963-1965, the "con-ciliar" years, during which the council was in session; 1965 until the death of Pope Paul VI in 1978, the "postconciliar" years, dur-ing which the Vatican and most Catholic bishops endeavored to implement the liturgical and pastoral reforms of the council; and, since 1978, a period of "ecclesiastical reassessment" during the pontificate of John Paul II. One of the council fathers, who is now a retired archbishop, has said, "The council rejected triumphalism (the church has all the answers), clericalism (the church is a pyramid), and legalism (church teachings presented as laws). The church is in the mod-ern world as are its ministers. There is no retreating to being people of another world.''2 Yet, to a greater or lesser degree, all three of these orientations--triumphalism, clericalism, and legal-ism-- are creeping back into the attitudes and utterances of some church leaders. Some describe the present tendency of the Vatican as "restoration," that is, an orientation to restore things to the way they were before Vatican II. That may be too extreme a judgment, even though one can understand why some think that way. Different observers account for this retrenchment from the "postconciliar" period in different ways. Some have observed that a significant motivation for this papal administration has been to avoid schism with the Lefebvrites and other ultraconservative Catholics; they say that the Vatican has been bending .over back-wards to avoid alienating those who pretend that Vatican II never happened. Others suggest that some high officials in the Vatican believe that much that came out of the council was mistaken in its orientation and must be replaced with the preconciliar solutions. Probably more accurate is the view that many of the documents of Vatican II are compromise statements that contain the seeds of tension that are now sprouting and bearing the fruit of division and conflict over some basic notions of church. Tlie major orientations of this pontificate that seem to touch on secular institutes are centralization and institutional nostal- May-June 1993 351 Philibert ¯ Committed Christian Secularity The major orientations of this pontificate that seem to touch on secular institutes are centralization and institutional nostalgia. gia. Regarding centralization, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that some heads of Vatican congregations think that incultura-tion and diversity of practice have gotten out of hand. Cardinal Ratzinger is reported as saying that national organizations of bish-ops have gone too far in establishing their independence of Vatican control. Some American bishops, and bishops in Holland and Germany too, have been called on the carpet and chided for statements of theirs. These are examples of what I mean by central-ization. This pontificate does not want anything to be happening in the local churches without consultation with the top. As regards institutional nostalgia, the example of religious comes to mind. The pope personally or through personal del-egates working above the level of the Roman congregations has given prefer-ential treatment to certain new, conser-vative religious institutes like the Society of St. Peter and the Legionaries of Christ as well as to some small traditionalist groups that stayed with the Roman Catholic Church at the time of the excommunication of Archbishop Lefebvre. During the summer of 1992, the Holy See granted approval to a new Council of Major Superiors of Women Religious in the United States at the request of a small number of traditionalist sisters here. (They are fewer than ten percent of the religious women in this country.) This fairly momentous decision was taken by the pope at the behest of an American cardinal arch-bishop without any consultation of the three existing church lead-ership conferences: the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. Among other interpretations, actions like these make one wonder if this pontificate is calling into question the principles and outcomes of the past thirty years of efforts at institutional renewal undertaken by the vast majority of religious in this country and in western Europe. What is being held up as a positive counterex-ample is the attitude and practice of a small number of religious who follow a regular'daily order and wear a distinctive habit. 352 Review for Religious Separation rather than transformation marks the spirit that is approved. I need to admit, of course, that mistakes and excesses did occur in the thirty years of postconciliar efforts at renewal. That is too obvious to miss. But it needs to be pointed out, I believe, that the Vatican seems now to single out for approval a simple return to the ways of the preconciliar period. This is what I mean by institutional nostalgia. Applying these observations to secular institutes, I note that their form of consecration does not fit well either with central-ization or with institutional nostalgia. They are trying new ways of implementing the church's ancient commitment to consecrated Christian life. Even though their commitment and spirituality are admirably in accord with the lay vocation and mission as described in Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation, their juridi-cal and cultural independence place them somewhat outside the central preoccupations of this pontificate. In this context I now ask two essential questions: What is the vocation of a consecrated secular Christian? And how should it evolve? Institutes Described in the Code" of 1983 The 1983 Code of Canon Law describes secular institutes carefully. Their members share a radical commitment to Christian witness and apostolic endeavor. The charism given to secular institutes and recognized by the church is to united Christian commitment and secular presence in the world. Members remain lay or diocesan priests, even though they receive a canonical sta-tus in view of their profession of a consecrated life. The 1983 Code has abandoned the term "states of perfec-tion" and, above all, the language of Provida Mater (1947), which allowed one to think that there was a sort of hierarchy of institutes of perfection which placed members of secular institutes within a third rank. Canon 710 says: "A secular institute is an institute of consecrated life in which the Christian faithful living in the world strive for the perfection of charity and work for the sanctifica-tion of the world especially from within." The use of the cate-gory "consecrated life" allows the possibility of avoiding reference to the category "religious." In the eyes of the present Code, "reli-gious" and "seculars" are two categories of consecrated life of equal dignity. May-June 1993 353 Philibert ¯ Committed Christian Secularity Canon 713, §2, indicates that lay members, in the world and operating in a secular manner, participate in the church's evan-gelizing task in various ways: (a) by means of the witness of their Christian life, (b) by their fidelity to their profession of the evan-gelical counsels, (c) by their "efforts to order temporal things to God," and (d) by shaping the things of the world so that they are enlivened by the spirit of the gospel. "Also, they cooperate in serving the ecclesial community, according to their particular sec-ular way of life" (c. 713). Members of secular institutes are called to strive for the per-fection of charity. The ultimate purpose of secular institutes is apostolic. Their apostolate is the expression and the exercise 6f their consecration. As to lifestyle, the Code of 1983 is insistent upon the secular dimension of their living. Neither common life nor religious garb is to be imposed upon members) Consecration vs. Commitment Let us linger for a moment on the term "consecration"; it is the source of a great potential misunderstanding. Almost thirty years ago, Father M. D. Chenu (the gre, at French Dominican theologian who died in 1991) pointed out that the term "consecration" was loaded with ambiguity when employed in a context of relation or service to the world. The word, from the Latin for "to make sacred," supposes an opposition between the sacred and the profane. Is it, asked Chenu, a useful term.at precisely the moment when the Roman Catholic Church is articulating its openness to the world and its embrace of the ordinary conditions of human expe-rience (see Gaudium et Spes)? Historically the word "profane" meant "not pertaining to that which is sacred or holy," from the Latin for "outside the temple." So, Chenu argued, we would do better in this age to leave aside the term consecration, which suggests an oppo-sition to the secular (the nonsacred) and to express the intensifi-cation of a Christian life with a word like commitment.4 Chenu was at the time in search of the authentic meaning of religious life. His remark is even more pertinent to the vocation of members of secular institutes. Chief among their stated goals is to witness to the fullness of a lay vocation or (in the case of ordained members) of baptismal maturity in a world of secularity. The key issue, it seems, is how to be an active participant in sec-ular life and at the same time to be an exemplary Christian. 354 Review for Religious Secular and Christian What is authentic secular living, and what is authentic Christian witness? One of the meanings of the word secular (from the Latin saeculum, meaning "age") is "pertaining to the spirit of the age or the character of the times." This may refer to things like clothing styles and popular music, but is there a deeper mean-ing too? What is the most profound challenge of our age? I think that the answer lies somewhere within the interplay of political and religious phenomena. We are coming out from what was sometimes called "the age of alienation" or "the age of anxiety." Not that all alienation and anxiety are over and done with, but the world seems to be mov-ing out from under the cloud that threatened us for 45 years with nuclear destruction. It is amazing, now that the Cold War is ended, that there is not more acknowledgment and analysis of the waste of wealth on arms of cosmic destructive power. If the trillions of dollars spent on armaments in the past five decades had been available for peaceful solutions to world problems, we could have eliminated illiteracy and starvation and attacked poverty and disease. We were victims of irrational fear for fifty years; now that period is passing. The demise of the major communist governments is another symbol of a changing age. The irony is that Karl Marx devised the philosophy of communism as a response to "alienation"--people not being able to participate meaningfully in the economic and political processes that governed their lives. The tragedy is that the government of the Soviet Union under Lenin and Stalin became instead a totalitarian dictatorship that was even more alienating than the corrupt government to which it was reacting. Marx's issue, though--participation versus alienation--is still the issue. Here in the United States, at the end of an overlong pres-idential electoral campaign, it is not at all clear that people are pre-pared to participate vigorously in politics, We have been alienated by the media and by the deviousness of the c~ndidates themselves from truly raising or genuinely addressing the issues that are the most significant for our nation as a whole. In the religious world, participation versus alienation is like-wise a key issue. One analysis of the Second Vatican Council and its aftermath is that the dominant social reality of this age has been to promote full participation in church life--worship and administration included--to all those who, by their baptism, are May-ffune 1993 355 Philibert ¯ Committed Christian Secularity entitled to dynamic interaction within the "body of Christ." Forty years ago we would never have conceived of a woman eucharistic minister, a lay pastoral administrator, or a nonclerical chancellor of a diocese. Now we have all these things and have learned to take them for granted. Despite the fact that more progress has been made in securing entitlements to church office for lay people in general and women in particular in the past fifty years than in the previous fifteen hun-dred years, there is nonetheless strong agitation for even more par-ticipation, includinglthe ordination of Catholic women to priestly service. It can be argued that to be authentically "secular" today is to take a stand for the promotion of rightful participation of all persons in the structures, processes, and decisions that shape their lives and shape the communities in which they live. Authentic Secularity Authentic secularity includes three Cs: conversation, com-passion, and conversion. Social psychologists have argued that people enter into a new form of relation when they treat others not as strangers or inferiors, but equals. This is what I mean by "conversation." A conversation is marked by give-and-take, by listening as well as speaking, receiving as well as giving. This atti-tude, when adopted intentionally, empowers others. It opens us to the perspective of another despite distances of role and situation. It favors the understanding and fellow feeling that we generally call "compassion." Living this relation of conversation and com-passion promotes experiences of "conversion." Here conversion means for me a reorientation that makes us eager to promote the growth and freedom of others. By this conversion, one becomes an agent of liberation and a facilitator of the moral and emotional maturity of our neighbors in this world. My effort to spell out the agenda of authentic secularity in our age of transition has remained rather general and abstract, but I hope that these ideas may stimulate recognition of these patterns or possibilities in yourself. I hope you will notice that many people are still marginalized from government and the econ-omy, education and the church, and that their true well-being can be promoted through their fuller participation in these things. The promotion of such participation is a clear responsibility of those who have secular integrity .at heart. 356 Review for Religious Authentic Christian Witness Beyond secular integrity, how does one integrate authentic Christian witness with it? How is one authentically Christian today? First, I would observe that the key issue here is more akin to pol-itics than to piety. I use "politics" in Plato's classical sense, mean-ing the ethos and the discourse of a people. Of all the dynamic changes that have touched the lives of American Catholics as a result of Vatican II, none has been as important or as far-reaching as the transformation of our sense of church. We no longer see Sunday worship as sacred theater. We see that we are each church, but not as isolated consciousnesses, isolated pieties, or isolated agendas. We are church as part of an organic cooperation and growing solidarity in the gospel and in the Holy Spirit. The council's mos~t dramatic theological paradigm shift, according to most theologians, was the fresh view of the church as the people of God. This view was the fruit of decades of the-ological work, especially biblical research and exegesis, liturgical studies, and the reinstitution of adult catechesis in northern Europe in the period between the two world wars. All three of these streams of research found it important to stress the theo-logical continuity between the Old Testament and the New. The opinion that the Old Testament's God was thunderously severe and arbitrary while the New Testament's God is forgiving and gentle was seen for the simplistic misinformation that it was. Better biblical texts and better exegesis, based not upon early Latin translations, but rather upon ancient Hebrew manuscripts, allowed several generations of biblical scholars and theologians to appreciate the theology of the Old Testament for what it was, a testament of mercy and salvation. The key concept of both tes-taments, which unified the revelation of the ages, was that of a people called and saved by God from alienation and absurdity. From the call of Abraham through the story of the sons of Jacob, the Egyptian slavery and the exodus, the kingships and the exile, and the times of the prophets and the remnant, one message dom-inated salvation history. God called and chose a people to become his very own so that they could bear witness in their very existence to his transcendent reality and mercy. The theology of Vatican II places this truth above all others, forcing other themes of theology and other pastoral insights to adjust to it. God calls a people to be the visible expression of God's way with the real. The descendents of Jacob, Israel, heard May-.l~une 1993 357 Pbilibert ¯ Committed Christian Secularity In Jesl, ls ~ God was again calling a people to be his own--. this time a people so closely identified with Jesus the Lord as to be calledhis "Body." (despite disbelief and temptation) and were haunted by God's call until they became the Judaism of history. Jesus came to call them into an intimate relation of love, forgiveness, and transformation by revealing the mystery of the triune God. But many of them rejected the Messiah Jesus, and the story of God's people reached a new moment in the followers of Jesus. These followers carried the "good news" to the nations, while Israel "hardened its heart" once again. But the fundamental truth did not change: in Jesus, God was again calling a people to be his own--this time a,~ people so closely identified with Jesus the Lord as to be called his "Body." It may be that in this theological insight lies the greatest challenge of all for members of secular institutes. For reasons largely associated with the ori-gins of secular institutes in hostile, anti-clerical societies, the institutes adopted the principle of discretion or reserve. One characteristic of this is that the members are not to lead a lifestyle pub-licly distinct from that of their neigh-bors. Part of their "secularity" is their immersion in the ordinary. A public religious profession or an unusual lifestyle would deny institute members access to the are-nas of.activity and witness in which they hope to use their apos-tolic energies: the place of work, casual neighborhood conversations, and the deliberations of university faculties, gov-ernment agencies, and community assemblies. This kind of anonymity--not publicizing their secular- institute commitment-- need not keep members from active involvement in a local parish's liturgical and apostolic life, but institutes differ in encouraging their members to lend their energies to the shared life and apos-tolic projects of their parish community. An authentic Christian life, however, is, as I said above, an ecclesial life. The institute members must always reflect the call of God to all Christians to be part of the people, of God and to give solid witness to God's presence and mercy in the midst of a hurting world. Therefore, they need to guard against such things as escapism, a piety .that is self-absorbed rather than apostolic, 358 Revie~ for Religious and a manner of liturgical participation that avoids involvement with the worshiping community. The ministry of reconciliation and atonement of the Lord Jesus can be seen as a work of solidarity with those who had become alienated from the forgiving and empowering word of his Father. As Vatican II's Constitution on Divine Revelation puts it, "Jesus perfected revelation by fulfilling it through his whole work of making himself present and manifesting himself: through his words and deeds, his signs and wonders, but especially through his death and glorious resurrection from the dead and final send-ing of the Spirit of truth." The central challenge to our moment of time from the gospel is that of visibly joining the dynamics of faith and of social trans-formation. I have been trying to evoke a general sense of the issues that are involved in this joining. But now it is time to turn to the admirable text of Pope John Paul II that followed upon the synod of bishops of 1987 and in which he summarizes the synod's theological insights. Christifideles Laici At the heart of the pope's message in Christifideles Laici is the assertion that lay Christians can bring to the frontiers of society a presence of the church that is unique. As the council's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church Says, "The laity are called in a spe-cial way to make the church present and operative in those places and dircumstances where only through them can she become the salt of the earth" (§33).5 It is the secular insertion of the laity that is the treasured aspect of their witness, in the pope's analysis. He says, "In particular, the lay faithful are called to restore to creation all its original value. In ordering creation to the authentic well-being of humanity in an activity governed by the life of grace, they share in the exercise of the power with which the risen Christ draws all things to himself and subjects them along with himself to the Father, so that God might be everything to everyone" (§14). The pope interprets the secular character of the lay Christian as a theological dimension of the experience of being Christian. It involves living in the world and transforming it through the exer-cise of "every one of the secular professions and occupations." It involves their relationships with family, friends, professionals, members of society, and authorities of the civil order. May-June 199.~ 359 Philibert ¯ Committed Christian Secularity The pope's theological affirmation appears to be that living and working in the context of ordinary reality from motives of faith in God and love for our human fellows is in itself an exercise of grace with the power to influence and ennoble human exchanges. The pope makes an unusually strong statement in saying: The images of salt, light, and leaven taken from the gospel, although indiscriminately applicable to all Jesus' disciples, are specifically applied to the lay faithful. They are partic-ularly meaningful images because they speak not only of the deep involvement and the full participation of the lay faithful in the affairs of the earth, the world, and the human community, but also and above all they tell of the radical newness and unique character of an involvement and par-ticipation which has as its purpose the spreading of the gospel that brings salvation (§ 15). The pope goes on to emphasize that a member of the lay faithful cannot remain in isolation from the community, but must live in an interaction with others that builds up the church. With reference to the church's liturgy, the pope says, "The various min-istries, offices, and roles that the lay faithful can legitimately ful-fill in the liturgy, in the transmission of the faith, and in the pastoral structure of the church ought to be exercised in confor-mity to their specific lay vocation, which is different from that of the sacred ministry" (§23). At the heart of lay people's ecclesial life is the parish, which is the symbol and the realization of the community of Christians. The pope reports that at the synod the bishops, in their discus-sions about renewing parishes, proposed two approaches: (1) "adaptation of parish structures according to the full flexibility granted by canon law, especially in promoting participation by the lay faithful in pastoral responsibilities"--so as to respond to situations where parishes have become geographically too large or where exiles and migrants demand specific pastoral responses (such as ministry in languages foreign to the place); and (2) devel-oping "small, basic or so-called 'living' communities where the faithful can communicate the word of God and express it in ser-vice and love to one another; these communities are true expres-sions of ecclesial co~nmunion and centers of evangelization in communion with their pastors" (§26). Thus the pope links the renewal of the parish to the expanded role of the lay faithful in the ani~nation and development of parish communities and the foundation of base communities alongside 360 Review for Religious and within the structure of existing parishes. Clearly, the need to find new forms of relationship that call to faith and celebrate faith within the neighborhood or the village is at one and the same time a diagnosis of the church's weakness today and a challenging mission for committed lay people. The pope, stating that the council insisted upon "the absolute necessity of an apostolate exercised by the individual [lay Christian]" (§28), then cites the following text of the council: The apostolate exercised by the individual--which flows abundantly from a truly Christian life (see Jn 4:14)--is the origin and condition of the whole lay apostolate, even in its organized expression, and admits no substitute. Regardless of circumstance, all lay persons (including those who have no opportunity or possibility for collaboration in associations) are called to this type of apostolate and obliged to engage in it. Such an apostolate is useful at all times and places, but in certain circumstances it is the only one avail-able and feasible.~ The pope's letter says much about the possibilities for holiness in committed lay life, but here I will include only some summary comments taken from its closing pages. A key preoccupation of Pope John Paul is to foster unity between everyday life and faith experience. He speaks of the need to evangelize the cultures within which we live. In part this means finding a place (in conversation and in social action) for the gospel values that the church preaches. Lives that integrate prayer, con-templation, and liturgical and sacramental life are a witness to the divine origin of our life and our world. The pope urges a readiness to take part in church programs and activities at local, national, and international levels. He indicates the crucial need for capable persons to commit themselves to catechesis and religious teaching. He urges people to organize gatherings and meetings focused upon a Christian analysis of family, civic, and social expe-rience. Finally, he mentions the value of a spirit of detachment and generosity and the power of the witness of poverty in a world " that is seduced by the power of materialism. John Paul then calls for a "reevangelization" of the Catholic and Christian world; we need, he says, to "remake the Christian fabric of the ecclesial community itself. This will be possible if the lay faithful will know how to overcome in themselves the separation of the gospel from life, to again take up in their daily activities in family, work, and society an integrated approach to life May-.~ne 1993 361 Philibert ¯ Committed Christian Secularity that is fully brought about by the inspiration and strength of the gospel" (§34). Earlier I noted how odd I find it that this lengthy document refers only briefly to secular institutes. I will not dwell further on that point. I observe, however, two things on the relation between secular institutes and the pope's apostolic exhortation on the laity: (1) I think this papal document is an extraordinarily well-crafted exposition of the meaning of the life of the vows for members of secular institutes. What they effectively commit them-selves to is an intense baptismal transformation as spelled out in the documents of Vatican II and summarized in the pope's letter. (2) The papal teaching here takes us a step further. The mem-bers of secular institfites must be committed to fostering the Christian life of their friends and neighbors. There is a mission-ary dimension to their vocation--towards their neighbor and towards the common culture within which they live and celebrate together. Although I have no firsthand experience of living the life of secular institutes, I have come as an interested outsider to the study of this dedicated form of life. My hope is not to answer ques-tions and close off discussion, but to raise questions and open new avenues of dialogue. I feel that secular institutes, especially in the United States, have a great opportunity. The church needs evan-gelical guidelines to help people grow in personal holiness and in effective witness to all the people around them. And so I hope that members of secular institutes will find ways to articulate their sense of their vocation even more clearly 9nd ways to make others aware of the very existence of secular institutes and the nature of their life. The gospel warns us about keeping treasures hidden. Notes ~ John Paul II, The Lay Members of Christ's Faithful People: Christifideles Laici (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1989), §56. 2 David M. Bulger, "Men Who Love Their Priesthood and Their Church," Touchstone (National Federation of Priests' Councils newslet-ter) 8, no. 1 (fall 1992), p. 2. The prelate in question is the Most Rev. James Martin Hayes, retired archbishop of Halifax. 3 See the helpful summary in E Valdrini, J. Vernay, J. E Durand, and O. l~chapp~, Droit Canonique (Paris: Dalloz, 1989), pp. 188-121. 362 Review 3~r Religious 4 M. D. Chenu, "Consecratio Mundi," in The Christian in the World: Readings in Theology (New York: Kenedy, 1965), pp. 161-177. 5 The Documents of Vatican H, ed. and trans. W. M. Abbot and J. Gallagher (Ne~ York: Association Press, 1966): The Dogmatic Con-stimtion on the Church, §33. 6 Decree on the Apostolate of the Laity (Apostolicam Actuositatem), §16. Loving Verbs I've always loved nouns. Neatly framed words with clear definitions. Solid, stable words that name safe things, things you can count on and hold and keep. I know now that I've been afraid of verbs. Words that do and have and are. Words that whirl past you so fast you can't catch them, that alter and change things and give ulcers to nouns . Loving verbs is like saying yes to the rollercoaster, going on but still being scared. Loving verbs is saying yes to a kaleidoscope of action and being and having and feeling. Loving verbs is saying yes to Possibility. I think it's time for me to fall in love with verbs. Christen Shukwit OSF May-~une 1993 363 prayer SUZANNE ZUERCHER and direction Liturgy of the Hours: A Reflection "Ritual is the enactment of the myth." --Joseph Campbell The reality of monastic" life has always been formed and shaped around the ritual of the Liturgy of the Hours. In his Rule for Monasteries St. Benedict devoted numerous, if brief, chapters to the content and structure of this prayer, which he called the Work of God. The Divine Office requires that monastics pause again and again, offer praise together, and then move on to the next aspect of their lives. The complete circle of the monastic day gains its momentum ahd energy by stopping for the Work of God. Many monastics no longer spend eight periods daily praying the Liturgy of the Hours. Nevertheless, the pri-ority of this liturgical prayer remains, and they continue to gather daily. For contemporary monastics, as for early ones, this form of worship best manifests what their life together is about. Early monastics were lay persons even in all-male communities, and so opportunities for daily eucharistic celebrations did not exist in many monasteries. In such a context it is understandable that Benedict would place a high priority on the Work of God, which he made the distinctive and constant form of community praise and worship. It remains the heart of monastic prayer life even in this twentieth century. Suzanne Zuercher OSB, well known for her writings and work-shops, has held both administrative and formation roles in her community. Her address is: St. Scholastica Priory; 7430 North Ridge Boulevard; Chicago, Illinois 60645. 364 Re'view for Religious In times when we are so intent on exploring what religious community really means, one place to look for the answer is in this ritual of the Liturgy of the Hours. Joseph Campbell tells us that by examining a ritual we can find out about the myth the ritual attempts to express. For this reason I would like to spend time reflecting on elements of the Divine Office as it is celebrated in monastic communities in order to better understand what com-munity means in such settings. Today's monastic communi-ties say something about who they are as they gather daily for this ritual and worship. Perhaps even they need to pay close attention to what that statement is. Are we overlooking what community life is and needs to remain by failing to examine what may well be its clearest manifestation? Initially, the most basic communication a monastic community makes by gathering for the Work of God is that their life is founded on hope. David Steindl-Rast in his book Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer distinguishes hope from optimism. A hopeful per-son lives in the present. An optimistic one looks ahead, pumping up positive feelings of how good things will be. A person of hope looks with confidence and trust into reality simply as it is right now. He or she--or they when one speaks of a community of hopeful people--finds life in ordinary, humble, actual experience. Rather than having expectations of good things to come, persons of hope have only one expectation: For those who live and wait in the present moment, life/Life will be a surprise. Monastics watch for such surprises. Ritual, Campbell also reminds us, is by its very nature boring. In its repetitiveness it fails as entertainment and distraction. Instead, ritual forces those who participate in it to search beneath the words and actions to discover the reality it gives shape to. This holds true whether worshipers are from Indonesia or Illinois. Boredom demands the deeper search for meaning beneath litur-gical action. Those who observe monastic communities repeating psalmody week after week and year after year may wonder what can possi- The most basic communication a monastic community makes by gathering for the Work of God is that their life is founded on hope. May-j%ne 1993 365 Zuercher ¯ Liturgy of the Hours bly draw them together for so repetitious a ritual. The sequential reading of Scripture, the yearly round of liturgical seasons, the consistent liturgical gestures are rhythmic, to be sure. To some, such repetition may appear empty and uncreative; but for monas-tics, whose worship is formed around this liturgy, such ordinari-ness underlines the reality of all human life and, consequently, of their life together. It calls to them, demands of them, that they look more deeply into what their lives are about. Eventually, if they are to continue to gather for the Hours, they are forced to cut through ritual to discover what that ritual signifies. It is dif-ficult, if not impossible, to endure the repetitive round of common prayer without such a breakthrough. Monastics who do not respond to this challenge to go deeper either go to sleep or despair. Sooner or later they absent them-selves psychically and physically from gatherings of the commu-nity in prayer or otherwise. Those, however, who hang, on in the face of meaninglessness can be led to the conversion at the heart of monastic commitment. Anguish and desperation can lead to rebirth and transformation in this as in other aspects of the spir-itual life. We do not willingly plumb our lives. We do so only when something demands that we move from the obvious to what that obvious is really expressing. We are forced to ask some questions: Why do we come together, stop our work, come home early, make sacrifices to be together for this time of prayer? What is the mean-ing behind what we do and say here? Do we believe all this, see it as important, even primary? Such questions are about the liturgy. But they are also, if we look closely at them, questions about community itself. Do we really see significance in using up our energies in praise of God together? Given life/Life as mystery, there is no final answer to any important human question. That is possibly why we keep asking what community is over and over again, generation after gener-ation, even though we have a Rule to guide us. Our human nature ultimately insists on experience. Experience is how we learn our answers. Liturgy of the Hours revolves around a lived experience of virtues we have all learned about which form the bedrock of the spiritual life. It makes these virtues concrete. First, we find faith in the gathering of the community, and we believe that life/Life will be found here. Then we recognize that the space in which we 366 Review for l~eligio~s gather is a sacred place where holiness will quicken us; for this we hope. And when it does bring the energy we call spirit/Spirit, we are truly one people, God's family, united in love with those who gather here and with the world of which we are a microcosm. Indeed, the place of our gathering for liturgy is sacred, but the spiritual spills over, if it is gen-uine, into all the other aspects of life: to the kitchen, the grounds, the classroom, the social agency, the hospital ward, the parish offices, the artist's studio. All are sacred places, all filled with objects and growing things and others who are sacred vessels. Benedict told his monastics to pause wherever they were in their work for God's Work, the Liturgy of the Hours, to remind themselves that everything is sacred. They were not to make life holy; they were to remind them-selves that it already is. Another element of monastic community is stability. Sometimes misunderstood as never going anywhere, stability does have something to do with being together in physical space. There is symbol in gathering. When community members come in one after another and take their places for the Work of God, their gathering together says what people want and need to hear expressed: You can count on my presence. Seeing the same per-sons gathered for prayer day after day makes real the word fidelity. The action of monastics looking around and noticing commu-nity members assembled with them is itself a form of prayer--a consoling and strengthening reminder that we wait as a people for our God (o come to save us. The monastics who gather share daily living, values, com-mitment; They are the same people who will be together in wor-ship and in all the other moments of existence as well. Praying together stands for and ritualizes all our being together. Talk and write as we will about the importance of being one in spirit, actu-ally hearing the voices and observing the silences and singing the psalmody with community members provides a needed testimony of this dedication to one another. The physical setting and its rituals offer another reflection on monastic community. As weeks pass, those who participate in the Liturgy of the Hours assume first one role in the ritual and then another. From presider to chanter, to reader, to the one who Praying together stands for and ritualizes all our being together. May-gTune 1993 367 Zuercber ¯ Liturgy of the Hours intones the various choirs, to merely being one of the group at prayer, the rhythm of life involves numerous tasks. The rhythm of monastic community is similar. One may be the prioress for a time, and then the procurator or the formation director, the gar-dener or the cook, the principal of the school or a teacher, the hospital administrator or a staff nurse. Monastics move easily and regularly throughout their lifetime in one another's company from the responsibilities of authority to those of obedience. They do so simply; it matters little in their life together what title they may have or how much prestige it carries. If today they have a larger role, yesterday they were one of the group and tomorrow they will be so again. Prolonged and consistent living among the same people pro-vides opportunity for a unique sort of learning. All the ministries monastics assume in the community and beyond it are for ser-vice, and this service changes. When a group lives in continuity with one another, moving from role to role is a normal, unim-pressive experience. Members give of their talents now in one way and now in another. The content of the Liturgy of the Hours is almost entirely scriptural. Meaning comes from the long and nourishing story of the Judeo-Christian tradition found in both Old and New Testaments. The history of redemption is larger than any indi-vidual person or any community, but Scripture provides words for the human experiences lived out by the whole group and each of its individual members. Monastics ponder the Scriptures until its words--and more importantly, the message they proclaim-- permeate their lives, are absorbed into the marrow of their bones. Body and mind and feelings soak up the liturgical seasons in their cyclic rhythm. In my own experience I once met a group of spiritual direc-tors who were to companion some monastic women on their first directed retreat. These directors expressed concern about how to introduce praying with Scripture. To their surprise, the monastics they directed not only understood the relevance of suggested pas-sages, they were able to add many others on the same theme. The directors were amazed at how steeped these women were in the concrete experiences which various Scriptures highlighted. Many of them had done litde formal scriptural study, but the constant association of the texts with their day-to-day lives had blended both together. 368 Review for Religious The simple reflection on the Gospel which the Liturgy of the Hours provides testifies to the natural, nonelaborate quality of the best of prayer, the best of living. There is design and order in the structul'e of God's Work, but medieval embellishments have been done away with in these times of ours. Monasticism is again being expressed very simply in its most basic and original form, and its prayer ritual has assumed some-thing of the natural breathing in and out of word and silence. As a result monastics experience the order and peace found when an appropriate amount of structure shapes life. It is important that what is and needs to be predictable not degenerate into rigid formalism. Monastic liturgy makes the statement that, as is true for all mature persons, mgnastics need to learn to bend with changing breezes without uprooting themselves as they do so. Perh.aps the most signifiEant statement the Liturgy of the Hours makes is that "it is good for us to be here." In the end, community is its own justification as is prayer. Religious life is valuable simply because it is. People live in community; it is the human thing to do. The kind of community people choose varies according to who they are. Monastics live their kind of commu-nity life primarily because it "fits" them. They find their whole-hess with other people who, like them, seek God, the Work of God and obedience as described in the Rule for Monasteries. When members of monastic communities live their under-standing of who they are in a whole and happy way, they cannot but witness to God's love and peace and joy. They do so simply by their lives. Of course, it is true that any whole person is called to care and to serve~ to be concerned and to work for the good of others. Monastics, therefore, find that they cannot contain what God has given them. It overflows to those around them and cre-ates yet another expression of stability in the environments in which they live. The vision of monastic community that underlies this article is idealized, to be sure. So, too, is the fantasy of perfectly carry-ing out the Liturgy of the Hours. Such perfection never happens. There are coughs and sneezes; people read too softly or too loudly, Perhaps the most significant statement the Liturgy of the Hours makes is that "it is good for us to be here." May-3~ne 1993 369 Zuercber ¯ Liturgy of the Hours too slowly or too fast. People forget to perform their assigned role in the ritual and the flow of things is upset. Differing inter-pretations about how the psalmody is to be read or sung by the group create subtle conflicts. All of these imperfections, and many more besides, limit the beauty and peace of liturgical celebration. Despite such imperfections, monastics continue to gather together for this less-than-perfect expression of a community life that is also less than perfect. They watch and wait, not knowing at what hour the Bridegroom will come in the form of some insight, some consolation, some discernment, some energy released from image or symbol, some decision to act. The Spirit blows when and where it wills. Those who wait find their quick-ening at the point of what we might Fall readiness--a readiness which differs for each person. It demands a culmination of a num-ber of life experiences to reach such a ripeness. Monastics gathered for Liturgy of the Hours never know when their individual hearts will be warmed, when the heart of the person beside them will be set on fire, when the community as a group will hear God's response to the Spirit's groaning within. But they wait, nonetheless, with a certain amount of patience and good humor for these freeing moments to occur in the world of time. This reality best describes for me what community is. It has not always been my description of our life together, but in recent years community has come to mean waiting with one another for each person's time. The ritual of Liturgy of the Hours celebrates and makes that description clear over and over, day after day. It, indeed, enacts the reality we struggle to define, the myth of reli-gious community. 370 Review for Religious KENNETH C. RUSSELL Get Serious! The Monastic Condemnation of Laughter /~,n, chapter six of his famous rule, St. Benedict bluntly forbids talk leading to laughter,''1 Later he notes that a monk has reached .the tenth step of humility when "he is not given to ready laughter:, for it is written: 'Only a fool raises his voice in laughter'" (Si 21:23).2 This condemnation of mirth is not, we must note, some oddity that can be explained away on the basis of Benedict's personal history or the troubled period in which he lived. His outright condemnation of the joviality we applaud was echoed in other monastic rules and in the critical comments of church fathers such as St. Ephrem and St. John Chrysostom.3 This harsh attitude toward laughter seems strange to us and even downright unhealthy. The early spiritual masters frowned on laughter; we, on the contrary, are suspicious of seriousness. ' In today's world all truth is spoken with a smile, as Horace rec-ommended, and Woody Allen, despite his recent troubles, is the only Hamlet we are willing to tolerate. Why Laughter Was Suspect But what prompted the first monks to condemn laughter? The scholars who have explored the early monastic rules and the sayings of the desert fathers offer various explanations. For one thing, laughter disrupts monastic order. It shatters the silence that represents the readiness of a disciple to listen.4 A monk who Kenneth C. Russell is a professor of the theology faculty at Saint Paul University. His address is Saint Paul University; 223 Main Street; Ottawa K1S 1C4; Canada. May-June 1993 371 Russell ¯ Get Serious.t is busy laughing is not ready to hear whatever may be spoken to him by the Holy Spirit or the abbot. In the monastic context it is the abbot's duty to speak and the monk's to listen,s The monas-tic rules are particularly hard on the effort to provoke laughter. In terms of order, this all makes sense because a joker in the clois-ter is obviously the equivalent of the clown in the back row of a classroom competing with the teacher for the other students' attention. Monasticism's reasons for rejecting laughter went deeper than that, however. The early monks prohibited laughter because they associated it with an arrogant, self-satisfied disdain for God and neighbor. Did Jesus not in fact say, "Woe to you who laugh now; you shall weep in your grief" (Lk 6:25)? And where in the New Testament does it say that Jesus laughed? This may not seem an important point to us, but the early monks took the failure of the gospels to show Jesus laughing quite seriously. They were not the only ones. Not even popular piety, which was ready in every cen-tury to fill the gaps in the gospel narrative with legends and sto-ries, ever developed the image of a lighthearted, laughing Jesus.6 Why this suspicion of laughter in the first Christian cen-turies? There would seem to be cultural as well as religious rea-sons for this uneasiness. In the tight-knit societies of the ancient world, laughter was likely to be laughter at someone: the for-eigner, the deformed, the handicapped. It separated the person who had done something "funny" from the group and made him or her a legitimate object of scorn. Laughter mocked and excluded the outsider. This social reality is reflected in the view of the ancient Greeks who, though they recognized risibility as a dis-tinctive human quality, concluded nonetheless that laughter was unbecoming to a mature human being because of its characteris-tic cruelty.7 The world in which monasticism took shape was sev-eral centuries away from the classical era, but the same high regard for how one appeared to others and the same sensitivity to shame were operative. Laughter, therefore, could be seen as a destruc-tive and even satanic force,s We must not think, however, that the fathers and the early monks favored a kind of pious gloom. They did not. In fact, some of those who made the harshest remarks about laughter were well known for their geniality and cheerfulness. What they frowned on was a certain lighthearted devil-may-care joviality. But why? To get to the heart of the matter, I think we have to look beyond the 372 Review for Religious historical situation and the predictable considerations of monas-tic discipline to the very essence of laughter. This is the only way we can discover what the fathers were really condemning and determine whether what they said has any message for us today. What Is So Funny? It seems to me that humor springs from the tension between our spiritual aspirations and the physical limitations imposed on us by our bodies and our confinement in a physical world with laws of its own. Comedy, in other words, is built into our very being. Even when we avoid the ridicu-lous pretensions that blind the proud to the banana peel right in front of them, we are funny creatures. Our efforts to go up the down escalator, our inability to guarantee that the soup in our spoon will reach our mouth without mishap, and all the other follies of daily life constantly remind us of our basic humanity or, to put it differently, of our littleness and dependence. Our comic condition mocks our solemnity? Therefore, if we have a prudent measure of humility and a min-imum of wisdom, we cheerfully accept our role in the human comedy and laugh at ourselves. We also laugh at others, but usually because we identify with them and see ourselves in their pratfalls. That is why Charlie Chaplin holds our attention or why we laugh at the-shy scientist in The Gods Must Be Crazy who falls all over every bit of furniture in sight in the presence of the attractive young woman who has entered his life. "Isn't it the truth!" we say. Male or female, we know what it is like to be completely overwhelmed by the attractiveness and charm of another human being. We have all been there, and our laughter celebrates our humanity and the glory of its fragile being. Our laughter testifies that the world, for all its troubles, is a joy-ous place and humanity, for all its pain, a wondrous thing in the hands of a God who can be trusted. Faith and cheerfulness would seem to go together. Our laughter testifies that the world, for all its troubles, is a joyous place and humanity, for all its pain, a wondrous thing in the hands of a God who can be trusted. May-June 1993 373 Russell ¯ Get Serious! But does our laughter always stand in such a healthy rela-tionship to the basic seriousness of life? What about the cynicism and despair that echoes in much of our laughter? For, indeed, we use laughter, not only to relativize the tragic dimension of life, but also to trivialize it altogether. Laughter can be a way of saying, "Hey, when it comes to silliness and stupidity, we're all in the same boat!" or it can be a frightened, frenzied dance over the abyss of anxiety. Laughter can be a life-affirming chuckle or a panicky giggle. Laughter, therefore, is not necessarily a sign of faith, nor is it necessarily, to use .the title of Richard Cote's contribution to a theology of laughter, "Holy Mirth." 10 It may, indeed, signify a brave stance before the meaninglessness of life. It may be a deter-mined retreat from a truth too dismal to contemplate. It may, ultimately, be an avoidance of seriousness. The Nature of Laughter We have lost the ancient world's suspicion of laughter, but it remains true, nonetheless, that making someone the object of laughter can be a disguised act of aggression. The same chuckle that mocks the other may comfort the joker with the consolation that he or she is not "like that." Whether crude or subtly sugar-coated, this alienating humor is the basis of most racial jokes and stories. Is this cruel aspect of humor just a negative twist that can be explained away by human sinfulness, or is it, in fact, the very basis of laughter? Surprising as it may seem, most philosophers and psychologists who have studied laughter connect it with aggres~ sivity and defensiveness. You may hit your neighbor with a feather duster and protect yourself with a water pistol, but you do hit him and you do defend yourself. In the evolutionary and anthro-pological way of looking at humanity which these thinkers adopt, laughter is partly a protective device, like the cuteness of small ani-mals, and partly a barrier erected to protect the group from the unfit and different. Laughter offers an alternative to a direct assault in those circumstances where overt aggression would be ill-advised. "If you can't hit him, tickle him to death, or make him so uncomfortable he gives up and goes home." The experts seem to consider laughter akin to the excited, mocking behavior of the likes of Tarzan's Cheetah.11 374 Review for Religious Are the psychologists and phenomenologists right? They cer-tainly seem to be on target when they describe how laughter func-tions in society. We have all, at one time or another, used laughter to disarm someone who has assumed an aggressive stance in a conversation, or we have, conversely, "jokingly" taken a verbal punch at someone we dared not face off with seriously. But must we fol-low them when they explain laughter in purely evolutionary terms? Must we see it merely as an outgrowth of aggression and defensiveness? Is laughter--harmful or helpful, loving or hateful--merely an amoral by-product of our swing down out of the trees? Is it someth!ng that will van-ish once genetic engineering succeeds in bleaching aggression out of the human gene pool? The notion that laughter is rooted in the desire to figh.t and defend ultimately cloaks the most lighthearted laughter in very dark colors indeed. It is surely prefer-able, therefore, to view laughter as a God-given, inherent human characteristic and not merely as a stained leftover from some newly grounded ape with the jitters. It is a proper human attribute that can be used, like most things human, for good or ill. Why, then, was laughter so harshly condemned by the spiri-tual masters of early monasticism? It is true that they placed a high value on the gift of tears which enabled a monk to lament his sins .and, indeed, the human condition in its alienation from God, but they certainly did not favor going about under a dark cloud.~z Sadness, after all, is one of the spiritual disorders in the list of passions that John Cassian handed down to Western monasti-cism. 13 We have to keep in mind that cheerfulness is one thing, the deliberate effort to provoke laughter quite another. What Laughter Does It seems to me that, to hold the monastic condemnation of laughter in perspective, we have to keep in mind that cheerfulness is one thing, the deliberate effort to provoke laughter quite another. Cheerfulness is the mark of someone who knows the May-.]une 1993 375 R~ssell ¯ Get Serious! score, as it were. Confidence in the providence of God and faith in the resurrection of Christ make Christianity a joyful religion. Therefore, those who penetrate to the heart of things, the wise, are inclined to be cheerful. However, if they heed the warning of St. Benedict, they will not "love immoderate and boisterous laugh-ter." L4 Certainly they will "speak no foolish chatter" and will not say anything "just to provoke laughter." ~5 Yet surely there is much to be said for the effort to make peo-ple laugh. After all, jokes, wit, and "foolish chatter" function as social lubricants. They act as icebreakers and frequently provide an interlude of relaxation and entertainment in the tense envi-ronments in which many of us operate. This is certainly true, but nonetheless I am inclined to say that, even at the best of times, laughter is a movement toward the surface, toward the shallows. It is always escapist. It is always a distraction because it is always a movement away from the quiet center of one's being. The fact that clowns and clowning around distract us does not, of course, make the effort to provoke laughter an evil. Laughter has its proper, place and its uses. In the hustle and bus-tle of the large, impersonal metropolis in which most of us earn our living, it is a marvelous instrument of social interaction. It helps us survive in a world of strangers. We may not know one another's history or evefi what the person next to us does when he or she is not working in this office, serving on this committee, or attending this class; This may be regrettable on a theoretical level, but the truth is that things would not go smoothly if we had to establish a deep interpersonal relationship with the mul-titude of people we meet. We encounter them in a specific con-text where we wear, as it were, a name tag referring to only one aspect of our personal history. We are "employee," "tennis part-ner, . student," or whatever. We want to be known and to feel that we fit in, but at the same time we have no desire to expose our pri-vate life to people we meet in this one-dimensional setting. Shared laughter allows us to achieve these contradictory goals. It binds the group together by touching our common humanity and, by veer-ing away from a focus on the personal, it protects our privacy. Laughter keeps everything light and frothy as it should be among those who work in the same place or band together to pursue some common social or recreational goal. This'is not the perspective that preoccupied the early monks. Therefore, their derogatory assessment of laughter should not 376 Revie~w for Religious be read as an attack on the social use of humor nor interpreted as a put-down of stand-up comics or, for that matter, the office wiseguy. The words of the fathers were addressed to those who had withdrawn from the turmoil of life and the humor that helps it function pleasantly. They were addressed to those who had, as it were, gone apart to concentrate. An effort to deliberately pro-voke humor in a setting which, by reason of its very seriousness, was surely prone to the laughter rooted in the human condition was obviously inappropriate. Laughter was as out of place in this setting as it would be on a green during a pro tournament. It broke the pros' concentration. Worse than that, the inclination to stir others to laughter indicated that a monk had fallen victim to the restlessness and distraction that the desert tradition called acedia.16 Conclusion Does this ancient suspicion of laughter have anything to say to us today? I think it challenges all Christians to ask, "Why am I laughing?" Does our joviality spring from the confidence that gives rise to cheerfulness, or is it perhaps anxiety in cap and bells faking nonchalance in the entrance hail of death? Is it the prod-uct of faith in a loving God who demonstrated his seriousness by making humans glorious beings and his love by giving them two feet to fall over to help keep things in proportion? Or is it the by-product of unbelief that opts, despite it a

Issue 46.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1987. ; Modern Media and Comn~unity Vocation Directors and Sexuality Trends in Spirituality--1986 An Experience of Group Direction Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1987 Rl~v~l~w VOR RIz~,~c;~ous (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with faculty members of St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies. The editorial offices are located at 3601 Lindell Blvd., Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvw.w RF~l_~c,~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO © 1987 by REv~.w ~:OR RV, t,~G~OtJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription: U.S.A. $11.00 a year: $20.00 for two years¯ Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail)¯ Airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:viFzw vor~ R~:~Acaot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1987 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the edilor should be sent to REVIEW I.'OR R~:~.~taotls: 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 R~:v~:w ~'ou RE~,W.~o~s: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393, "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Fi st Stage tO"Union: The Active Night Of the .Senses Susan A. Muto Doctor Muto is Director of Duquesne's Institute of Formative Spirituality (Duquesne University; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15282). St. John of the Cross' teaching in the first book of the Ascent of Mount Carmel presupposes that the sojourner has reached that stage in the spiritual life where he or she Js ready to advance beyond the beginnings of prayer and awaken to the deeper regions of divine intimacy. Thus he writes here for (advanced) beginners and persons already proficient in such virtues as detachment, humility and charity. The aim of Book One is threefold: to help an already well,formed self, one who has tasted certain pleasures and satisfactions, to unburden itself of worldly, inordinate attachments; to share the knowledge the saint has gathered through his own reading, experience, and direction as to how souls are to avoid spiritual obstacles; and to describe in concrete detail the way in which one can live in the freedom of spirit necessary, for divine union. It is wise at this point to read the poem, "One Dark Night," and return to it, for its moving images teach--more than abstract concepts can--how happy the soul is to pass through the nights of sense and spirit to union with its Beloved. In the Prologue to Book One the master says that his guides on this journey will be, above all, the desire for God, along with the background wisdom provided by Sacred Scripture and the doctrine of the Church. He immediately identifies two main obstacles to advancement, these being, in a phrase, inadequate direction and inadequate appraisal. Spiritual directors, 161 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 lacking both sufficient knowledge and experience.of what is happening to the pilgrim soul may unwittingly encourage persons to continue in their old ways. Then, too, the person himself or herself may neither know how to nor want to advance. Even if the Lord comes, they are not willing to adapt themselves to his work. They resist the flow of grace or refuse to cooperate. Thus: God gives many souls the talent and grace for advancing, and should they desire to make the effort they would arrive at this high state. And so it is sad to see them continue in their lowly method of communion with God because they do not want or know how to advance, or because they receive no direction on breaking away from the methods of beginners (AMC, I, Prologue, 3/70).* Failing to understand that God is the author of this enlightenment, ill-prepared directors may urge persons, instead of advancing, to return to former ways of prayer or to make many general confessions. They do not realize that now is not the time for such activity: Indeed it is a period for leaving these persons alone in the pu~'gation God is working in them, a time to give comfort and encouragement that they may desire to endure this suffering as long as God wills, for until then, no remedy--whatever the soul does, or the confessor says--is adequate (AMC, I, Prologue, 5/71). Having said this, St. John begins in Chapters One and Two to explain the imagery of'the "night" that will guide both him and the soul. Early evening or twilight marks the point of departure, the time of purgation, for the soul will experience deprivations of its appetites for worldly pleasure, possessiohs; powers. As one mortifies these, one is led deeper into the night--to the midnight hour of dense darkness where the only means of progress is faith, where intellect is deprived of its normal modes of knowing so that one may be made ready for the secret and intimate self-communications of God. The night eventually gives way to daybreak, to the dawn, which symbolizes the point of God's arrival, the time of love's illumination transformed into perfect union with the Lover: Thus these phases of the night encompass the threefold path of purgation, illumination, and union, not as something accomplished once and for all in linear fashion, but as an ongoing cycle of deprivation, restoration, and transformation. One discovers through the nights of sense and spirit that, as St. Teresa of Avila says, on this walk through life God alone suffices. No object of sense, no concept, image, or idea, can fulfill our infinite desire. The point of Chapter Three is to identify the first cause of this night as the "privation"~or deprivation of perverted desires or appetites. Perhaps The First Stage to Union this is St. John's way of explaining, as a necessary condition for.spiritual deepening, control of the pleasure principle. This control actually effects a rechanneling of vital energies so that they flow from and return to their transcendent source. We must go through this "night" in order to restore the equilibrium thrown off by excessive attachment to the gratifications afforded by our relations, sensually speaking, to persons, things and events. It is clear from the context of this chapter that St. John believes that all creation is good; nothing is evil in itself. Ideally we ought to proceed from the manifestations of God to God himself. In reality, due to the spiritual blindness imposed by our fallen condition, we cling frantically to these vital gratifications. By refusing to let them go, we disavow them. as pointers to their Creator. We tend to make them ultimate sources of pleasure or posses-sion. They become idols or ends in themselves. The result of not entering the night of sense deprivation is, therefore, an increase of formation igno-rance or forgetfulness of our true transcendent" nature--the dynamic that marks our most distinctive human quality. Hence, we need the "night" to reawaken our capacity to remember the Creator in our sense perception of creatures. That is to say, we must see through the visible to the invisible Reality. We are not to remain only on the surface of things but to behold in faith the depth dimension. By darkening the senses of hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting and touching, one is paradoxically free and empty of all things, even though one possesses them. In short: "Since the things of the world cannot enter the soul, they are not in themselves an encumbrance or harm to it; rather, it is the will and appetite dwelling within it that causes the damage" (AMC, 1, 3, 5/77). St. John now goes on, in effect, in Chapters Four and Five to suggest three steps to follow on this phase of the journey through the dark night to God. They are, in a word, remembrance, comparison and renunciation., In the first place, to be freed from this idle/idol illusion, one must strive to remember the right relation between creation and the Creator. Curiously enough, this re-membering has to do with dismembering, that is, of divesting ourselves of inordinate attachments to things as they are in themselves, as if they could be separated f~om their Creator. To dismember a thing as ultimate is to re-member it as dependent on God.Such detachment, while painful, helps one to appreciate things much more as manifestations of the goodness of God. By contrast, one who is clothed in these affections (versus dis-membered) will be "incapable of the enlightenment and dominating full-ness of God's pure and simple light, unless he rejects them" (AMC, I, 4, 1/77-78). Harsh as it may sound, St. John holds firm to his conviction that the light of divine union cannot be established in the soul until these (inordi-nate) affections are eradicated. A more positive way of making the point 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 might be to ~ay t~at when our idolizing ~lesire to take pleasure in and to possess things as such is mortified, we can appreciate them as they are in their pristine origin and beauty. We move in this way from a posture of violence and control to one of love and letting be, from an attitude of manipulation and calculation to one of compassion. A second helpful step at this stage of the journey is to set up a comparison between the finite, limited nature of things as distinct from the "how much more" of the infinite. For example, the Sea of Galilee compared to the sea of God's love is like a drop of water compared to the Pacific Ocean. Simi-larly, creatures, however beautiful, elegant and abundant they may be, com-pared to their Creator are as darkness compared to light, are as coarseness compared to grace, or ignorance compared to ability. Through this exercise in comparison, St. John introduces us to the Reality Principle, namely, he wants us to see things as they really are in their limited value and as pointers to the limitlessness of thei'r Lord. Via this comparison, we will be better able to break the tendency to make any "little beyond" into the "True Be~,ond"' and hence _to. r_is_k !nitiating a pseud.o-spirituality that invests in something finit~ the richness of the Infinite. Understanding this point of comparison enables us to read Chapter Four as a litany of praise to our Creator God: ¯ . . all the being of creatures compared with the infinite being of God is nothing . All the beauty of creatures compared with the infinite Beauty of God is supreme ugliness . All the grace and elegance of creatures compared with God's grace is utter coarseness and crudity. (AMC, l, 4, 4/79). Here St. John would agree fully with St. Paul that the wisdom of the world is mere foolishness in God's sight (1 Co 3:19). Clearly, the meaning of these statements does not intend for us to reject creaturely being, beauty, grace and ability as bad, but to place these attributes in their proper rela-tion to God. They will all pass away, but not his word. Creaturely qualities, no matter how rich, are ultimately poor in comparison to the Being, Beauty, Elegance and Wisdom of God. Our hope resides not in this or that momen-tary pleasure or possession but in God alone. If the first step out of illusion is to remember our nothingness without God, then the second step is to compare his eternal truth with whatever is temporal. The promise he makes to us is more trustworthy than any stopping place on the path of formation. Thus it is up to us to keep running the race to the end, which means not resting ultimately in anything but God, for, as St. Augustine has said so beautifully, our hearts are restless until they rest in him. Or, to again quote St. John: The First Stage to Union All the sovereignty and freedom of the world compared with the f~eedom and sovereignty of the Spirit of God is utter slavery, anguish, and cap-tivit3; . All the delights and satisfactions of the will in the things of the world in contrast to all the delight that is God is intense suffering, tor-ment and bitterness . All the wealth and, glory of creation compared with the wealth that is God is utter poverty and misery in the Lord's sight (AMC, I, 4, 6, 7/80). The third step, as suggested in Chapter Five, is the most radical, for St. John says that total renunciation is the condition par excellence for pure transformation. Here paradox prevails, Just as knowing is only possible in unknowing, so freedom of spirit or liberation is the result of detachment or renunciation. One must empty the appetite of all the natural and super-natural things which can be a hindrance to the journey to God. This kenotic experience does not happen once and for all but demands habitual effort in cooperation with the graces God is bestowing. The language here allows for no compromise: , The road and ascent to God, then, necessarily, demands a habitualeffort to renounce ~nd mortify the appetites; the sooner this mortification is achieved~ the sooner the soul re~ches the top. But until the appetiteff are eliminated, a person will not arrive, no matter how much virtue he practices. For he will fail to acquire perfect virtue, which lies in keeping the soul empty, naked and purified of every appetite (AMC, I, 5, 6/83). If we desire to climb the summit of the mount "in order to become an altar for the offering of a sacrifice of pure love and praise," we must strive to accomplish three.tasks, described through the following metaphors: first, we must "cast out strange gods," meaning that we have to let go of any affections and attachments that tend to alienate us from God; secondly, we must purify ourselves of their residue through habitual denial (saying no for the sake of a greater yes) and--for as often as we fail to do so-- through habitual, confident repentance (trusting that God's mercy responds with motherly tenderness to our misery); and, thirdly, we must take on a "change of garments," meaning that we must be clothed in a "new under-standing of God [through the removal of the understanding of the old man], and in a new love of God in God . " In this way, we move from igno-rance of who we really are toward acceptance of our being made in the form and likeness of God, of our being, as St. John puts it, "his worthy dwelling." The saint is one who says with every fiber of his or her being: "My God and my all!" One accepts this truth without flinching: "The only appetite God permits and wants in his dwelling place is the desire for the perfect fulfillment of his law and the carrying of his cross" (AMC, I, 5, 8/84). Having reflected on the meaning and demands of total renunciation and "166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 the liberation it brings, St. John moves on in the next five chapters (Six through Ten) to analyze the harms the appetites engender in the soul. There are two main areas of harm, the one privative, the other positive. In general, unruly appetites deprive us of God's spirit. By our attachment to a created thing weoare less capable of soaring free to God. St. John relies for his reason-ing on the philosophical fact that two contraries cannot coexist in the same person. Therefore, "Since love of God and attachment to creatures are con-traries, they cannot coexist in the same will" (AMC, I, 6, 2/85). In biblical terms, rather than accept our privilege as children of God to eat at his table, we act like dogs who must eat the crumbs that fall to the floor. We refuse to rise from the "crumbs" of creatures to the uncreated Spirit of the Father. It stands to reason that "this uncreated fullness cannot find entry to a soul until this other hunger caused by the desires is expelled" (AMC, I, 6, 3/85). As to the second harm, which is positive, we must realize that numerous. impediments are wrought in the soul by inordinate appetites, the most obvious of these being that they weary, torment, darken, defile and weaken the true seeker. Our spiritual life suffers in the first place because these appe-tites weary and tire us to death. He compares them to restless, discontented children, who wear their mothers out trying to please them. Satisfied at one moment, they demand more satisfaction the next. The more one quiets their cravings, the more demanding they become. One feels increasingly agitated, disturbed, fatigued. Like the pulsion governing physical hunger or sexual need, so appetites in general are stirred to satisfy themselves endlessly. St. John makes this analogy: Just as a lover is wearied and depressed when on a longed-for day his oppor-tunity is frustrated, so is a man wearied and tired by all his appetites and their fulfillment, because the fulfillment only causes more hunger and empti-ness. An appetite, as they say, is like a fire that blazes up when wood is thrown on it, but necessarily dies out when the wood is consumed (AMC, I, 6, 6/87). Such desires make it impossible for us to live in the longing for God alone, for instead of him, weexpect them to satisfy us. It is as if we keep looking for heaven on earth. Thus we become ready victims of illusory promises of fulfillment. We give in to the pressures of consumerism. In both cases the sad reward is discontent, for we have turned unwittingly from God who alone can satisfy us. These inordinate appetites not only wear us-out, they also torment us. They gnaw at us mercilessly, as if we were bound by tight cords or tortured on a rack. The torment would be comparable to that which a person suffers who lies naked on thorns and nails; who is in pain; who knows no peace; who is always thirsty. In contrast to what happens to us when the cord of The First Stage to Union / 167 desires tightens around us, when the possessions we cling to desperately possess us, think of the liberation of the children of God. Consider the refreshing peace that is ours when we surrender our will to his. Instead of wasting our efforts, why don't we delight in the abundance of God? We should learn to see that this movement to~vard abundance is a departure from the pleasures of crea-tures, because the creature torments, while the Spirit of God refreshes'.' -Accordingly, God calls us through St. Matthew. as though he were to say: All you going about tormented, afflicted, and weighed down by your cares and appetites, depart from them, come to me and I will refresh you; and you will find the rest for your souls that the desires take away from you (Mt 11:28-29) (AMC, 1, 7, 4/88-89). Thirdly, these self-centered desires blind us. It is as if we are living behind a cloudy pane of glass that blocks out the bright sunshine. We see only a hazy image of things--not things as they really are. Due to this blindness, it is impossible for us to think clearly. It is as if the powers of our transcen-dent mind are dulled by the excessive demands of the vital or functional spheres. Both natural reason and supernatural wisdom are darkened. And when the intellect is obscured, the will becomes weak and the memory dis-ordered. The desire for const'an~ pleasure or sensual stimulation makes reflec-tive living a virtual impossibility. Things go from bad to worse because the intellect is incapable of receiving the illumination of God's wisdom; ttie will cannot embrace the pure love of God; and the memory lessens its capacity for the impression of the serenity of God's image upon it. Unless these blinding desires are mortified, one will not advance on the way of union. It stands to reason that if the~e unruly appetites lead a person, he or sh~ is bound to be blind to the'mind's appraisal powers. One reacts on impulse, without the help of a quiet attunement to the Christ form in the core of one's being. All that is released is the counterfeit form of con-cupiscence and pride. No amount of penance can overcome this darkness if one does not root out the source of the trouble, namelyl the blinding blockage of inordinate desires. They are like a ~ataract on the eye or specks of dust in°it. Until they are removed, they obstruct vision. One way or another, in this life or in the next, these appetites have to be chastised and corrected. They have to underg6 purgation before any steady progress in the spiritual life can take place. St. John laments this condition of forma-tion ignorance in language reminiscent of the prophets: Oh, if men but knew what a treasure of divine light this blindness caused by their affections and appetites deprives them of, and the number of mis-fortunes and evils these appetites occasion each day when left unmorti-fle!! . At every step we mistake evil for good and good for evil. 16~i / Review for Religious., March-April, 1987 This is peculiar to our nature. But what will happen if appetite is added to our natural darkness? . We have felt our way along the way as though blind, we have groped as if without eye,s, and our blindness has reached the point that we stumble along in broad daylight as though walk-ing in the dark (AMC, I, 8, 6, 7/91). Using even stronger language, St. John assures us that such blind desires stain ,and defile the soul, bringing it into bondage under the rule of the autarchic-pride form, and blackening the beauty of the christ form we are called to release. We are like someone who is stained by pitch or blacker than coal--and yet we are meant to be whiter than snow or milk. This is so because even the disordered soul remains in substantial union with God. It "possesses in its natural being the perfection that God bestowed when creating .it," even though in its rational being it is full of the defilement described here. We cannot grow in Christ-likeness until this defilement, is checked by formative detachment. The tragedy is that these inclinations keep us away from the peace God is drawing us toward in the life of union. incredible as it may sound: One inordinate appetite alone., suffices to make a soul so captive, dirty, and unsightly that,until the appetite is purified the soul is incapable of con-formity with God in union. This is true even though there may be no matter for mortal sin in the appetite. What thenwill b~.the ugliness of a soul entirely disordered in its passions and surrendered to its appetites? How far it will be from God and his purity (AMC, I, 9, 3/92-93). It follows that all three faculties of the soul are affected by this kind of attachment. Just as one bad spot spoils an entire garment, so intellect, memory, and will are defiled by disordered desires. . The end result is that such desires render us lukewarm, spiritually speaking. Appetites that go unmortified eventually sap the soul of the strength it needs to persevere in the practice of virtue. In this weakened state, ours is an on-again, off-again spirituality. We are usually overdependent on consolations and only sporadically attracted to steady discipline. Appetites, as it were, divide and conquer us, whereas asceticism unites our inner faculties and makes us stronger. Lacking this discipline, we feel scattered. Our faith is easily challenged. We may.be open targets for exalted schemes that promise salvation through a wide door, not a narrow gate. We would like to master God rather than allow him to master us. What matters most is not his will but our own interpretation of the easy way. Without purgation and ongoing appraisal of the direction of our spiritual life, self-gratification, not God, becomes our center. As far as St. John is concerned, this would be hell on earth. Instead of copcentrating on strength-ening our practice of virtue, all we care about is satisfying our desii~es, Little The First Stage to Union / 169 wonder, then, that they rob us of what we already have. Unmortified appe-tites result in killing our relationship with God. Because we did not put them gently but firmly to death first, they live on to kill us. For what difference does it make if we win the whole world and lose our soul? Having spelled out in vivid detail the privative and positive harms appe-tites can cause in the soul, St. John explains again in Chapters Eleven and Twelve what kinds of appetites are detrimental to the soul. To do so he distinguishes three kinds of appetites, moving from the least to the most detrimental, these being the natural ones, the "semivoluntary and the voluiatary. Natural movements, as, for example, an ear for and an attraction to good music, are of little or no hindrance to the attainment of union, provided we do not make them the center of our attention nor pass beyond the first stage of spontaneous affinity in which the rational will plays no part. Because we are a body-mind-spirit unity, because we are born with certain givens in the realm of temperament, disposition and talent, it is impossible to eradi-cate natural appetites in this life, and, were we to do so, it would most likely be deformative. TheSe movements go hand in hand with our creatureliness. One can be experiencing them in the sensitive part of one's being, as, for instance, a hunger pang, and yet be free of the desire for food at this moment, as, for instance, during a liturgy, in the rational part of one's being. These movements can even be stirring in a person who is experiencing an intense union of will in the prayer of quiet. These appetites may actually dwell in the sensory part of the soul, yet the superior part pays no attention to them, just as there can be foam on the ocean's surface and deep calm underneath the sea. One. may even feel certain sexual stirrings without in the least detract-ing from one's absorption in God in the center of one's being. As long as one pays no attention to them--rletting them buzz in and out like flies but not stopping to swat them--one need not be concerned about them. Such is not the case with the other appetites--~whether the less grave, which involve venial sin, or the most serious, which involve mortal sin. The trouble with natural movements, which are the least of them all, is that one can consent to them and be forthwith ~aught up in imperfections that are contrary to God's will. If one is to reach (he perfection of union with God through one's will and love, it is obvious that one must be freed from every appetite, howe~,er slight. One must have the strength and freedom to be able--in the face of temptation--to refuse consent. There is a difference between "ad~,ertence" Or "knowingly" falling into imperfections, and "inad-vertence" or falling without much knowledge or control of the matter. These are the semivoluntary sins because of which it is said that the just man will fall seven times a day and rise up again. Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 The real problem resides with the voluntary appetites. Anyone of these, even the most trifling, is sufficient to impede union. Especially problematic are the "habitual appetites," because scattered acts rooted in diverse desires are not such a hindrance. They are not a determine~l habit--yet ultimately the soul must be liberated of these too since they both proceed from and may lead to habitual imperfection. Habitual, voluntary imperfections that are not completely mortified not only stand in the way of divine union but also hinder spiritual prog~ress as such. St. John gives some examples of what he means by habitual imperfections (those deformed dispositions that prevent us from responding fully and freely to the call to love). ¯ . . the common habit of loquacity; a small attachment one never really desires to conquer, for example, to a person, to clothing, to a book or a cell, or to .the way food is prepared, and to other trifling conversa-tions . Any of these habitual imperfections, and attachment to them, causes as much harm to an individual as ,would the daily commission of many other imperfections (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). Harsh as it may sound, St. John will not compromise his conviction that such an attachment, however trifling it ma~, seem, will make it impossible in the long run for one to progress in perfection. Something as simple as insisting on the same place in a church pew, and compelling others to crawl over one, can hinder the spiritual flight the saint is talking about. The point is: It makes little difference whether a bird is tied by a thin thread or by a cord. For even if tied by thread, the bird will be prevented from taking off just as surely as if it were tied by cold--that is, it ~vill be impeded from flight as long as it does not break the thread . This is the lot of a man who is attached to something: no matter how much virtue he has he will not reach the freedom of divine union (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). In one text after another, St. John comes back to this issue. How regret-table that a soul laded like a rich vessel with the wealth of good deeds, spiritual exercisesand virtues never leaves port because one lacks the courage to break the rope of a little satisfaction, attachment or affection. God gives them the power to sever other stronger cords while they cling to some childish act or thing God ask~ them to overcome for love of him. Not only do they fail to advance; they even turn back for so ,mething that amounts to no more than a thread or a hair. And, "Everyone knows that not to go forward on this road is to turn back, and not to gain ground is to lose." The goal of union demands that we do not stop on the road, but that we continually mortify our appetites rather than indulge them. For how can a log of wood be transformed into the fire if a single degree of heat is lacking to its prepa- The First Stage to Union ration? Similarly, itis St. John's contention that the soul "will not be trans-formed in God even if it has only one imperfection." This is so because a person has only one will, and if this is encumbered or occupied by any-thing, it will not possess the freedom, solitude and purity requisite for divine transformation. Complementing these clarifications from Chapter Eleven are a few of his Sayings of Light and Love, for example, Saying 23--"He who does not allow his appetites to carry him.away will soar in his spirit as swiftly as the bird that lacks no feathers" (668). Returning to the topic of the kinds of harm the appetites can cause in the soul, St. John explains, in regard to privative evil or the loss of grace, that only the voluntary appetites whose object may involve mortal sin can do this~completely--that is, deprive the soul of grace in this life, and glory, the possession of God, in the next. The positive evils (weariness, torment, blindness, defilement, weakness) correspond in general to a turning toward creatures, just as the privative involve an aversion from God. Naturally, the degree of harm depends on whether the appetite leads to mortal or venial sin, whether it is voluntary or semivoluntary. The harm. caused by each appe-tite can be direct or indirect. For example, vainglory positively harms the soul in all the ways mentioned, but it most principally darkens and blinds it. The point to keep in mind is that all these evils together oppose the acts of virtue, which generate the contrary and corrective effect. For example, a virtuous act produces in one mildness, peace, comfort, light, purity, and strength; an inordinate appetite brings with it torment, fatigue, and so on. In short: "Through the practice of one virtue all the virtues grow, and similarly, through an increase in one vice, all the vices and their effects grow" (AMC, I, 12, 5/100). Don't we all know from experience (think of that overstuffed feeling after a too rich meal) that "the appetite when satisfied seems .sweet and, pleasant, but eventually the sour effect is felt." We cannot avoid this basic truth that if and when we allow ourselves to be carried away by our appetites, the bitter effect of losing our-selves in vitalistic feelings or functionalistic preoccupations is inevitable. Such is not the case with the natural, involuntary appetites. Though disturbances in this realm may seem to defile one, the actual resistance of them has the opposite effect. In this struggle one wins strength, purity and many other blessings, for as our Lord told St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). Since, in conclusion, it is the voluntary appetites that bring on all these evils--and even more--the chief concern of spiritual directors with their directees ought to be the "immediate mortification of every appe-tite." Nothing less than this emptiness-will liberate them. We come now to the famous Chapter Thirteen of Book One of the Ascent in which St. John delineates some counsels pertaining to the active night 179 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 of the senses or how one can conquer and overcome voluntary appetites. Though one is doing what one can, this very action is dependent on the "already-thereness" of God's grace, prompting one to enter this night and thereby come "quickly" to the passive way in which God accomplishes this work in us. What is this "abridged method" that leads us from~nothing to everything, from emptiness to fullness, from renunciation to liberation, from being bound to soaring free? It proceeds in a series of steps, which we shall summarize here. 'First and foremost comes the habitual desire to imitate Christ in all of one's deeds. Nothing is more important on the way of perfection than bring-ing our lives into conformity with his. This being with the Christ form implies the ongoing reading (lectio continua) of the Scriptures together with their more concentrated study (lectio divina). Knowing him through his words and actions, we can better emulate his attitudes in our own situation, thus drawing our entire existence more and more into union and communion with his. It follows that to succeed in this imitation, we need to calm down and by and large renounce sensory satisfactions severed from that which gives honor and glory to God. We cannot do this on basis of willpower alone; our motivation must emerge not from fear but from our love of the Lord who came to show us how we are to go through him to the Father. His one desire in life was to fulfill the Father's will, which "he called his meat and food" (Jn 4:34). What does this decision mean concretely? The key resides in the phrase "do not desire," and it means do not desire to hear, . look upon, act, take pleasure in anything that is unrelated to the service and glory of God. St. John would never be against enjoying good music, if we have an ear for it, of appreciating the beauty of art or nature, or in delivering or hearing a moving sermon. What bothers him is our tendency to stop at this literal level instead of going through and beyond it to the transliteral, sacred mystery. One cannot help but experience satisfaction in these sensory goods. The important directive is not to desire the gratifica-tion as such but to desire the God who gratifies. By this method, we leave the senses, as it were, in darkness and, from the spiritual point of view, "gain a great deal in a short time." Such vigilance, perhaps understood as purity or singleness of heart, leads to the tranquilizing or harmonizing of the natural passions of joy, hope, fear, and sorrow--four emotions that constitute the basis of the active purga-tion of the will by love in Book III, Chapter Sixteen ff, of the Ascent. Here it is sufficient to present a few maxims that represent a first formula for pacifying these passions while practicing many virtues. Note here as well that what we are pacifying is the passion for (inordinate attachment to) satis- The First Stage to Union / 17'3 factions that are self-centered; expectations that are willful; anxieties rooted in our search for security; and depressions due to lack of control, and not having things go our way. Only if we understand this can we understand and accept as wise these well-known maxims: Endeavor to be inclined always: not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work; not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness and poverty in everything in the world (AMC, 'I, 13, 6/102-103). This passage may seem life-denying, slightly masochistic, to say noth-ing of the impossibility of reaching or doing, if we overlook the crucial phrase at the beginning, which says "Endeavor to be inclined always . " This is the same as saying "Strive," "Try," "Foster the inclination" to develop that "sixth sense" that guides our call to be a true follower of Christ, which implies inevitably to deny ourselves and to take up our cross for his sake. As witnesses to the Gospel, we ought to be ever more proficient in detecting what in us operates on basis of the pride form and what in us gives assent to the Christ form. For did he not choose the "narrow way" that was, by human standards, most diffic.u~lt, harshest, less pleasant? Did he not work so hard to accomplish our salvation that he had nowhere on which to rest his head? Was his agony not unconsoling? Was he not numbered among the least of men? Among the most despised? What did he want except to fulfill the will of the Father? If this is true, and if we want to walk with him, then we too must practice the poverty of spirit by which he emptied himself and became like a slave for our sake. Thus in these counsels, St. John is indicating concretely how we are to accomplish the imitation of Christ. With his help, we can learn to embrace them earnestly and overcome the aversion we may feel toward them. By entering into nothingness, we enter into nothing-butness--for nothing but God will satisfy the heart that loves him. Such a life practiced with order and discretion (for these mortifications are means toward union, not union itself), enable us to live in faithfulness to our unique call to discipleship. What is easiest and what is most difficult depends, of course, on who we "174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are. It may be easiest for a research scientist not to spend tedious hours in his laboratory looking for formulas that will benefit human health when he would rather be on the golf course. Hence, what is difficult and done for Christ is to maintain his place in the lab, putting his God-given gifts to work. For another, the most difficult.may be to overcome his shyness and meet colleagues on the golf course, thus tempering his workaholic ten-dency and relaxing so he may be a better servant for the Lord. These decisions are dependent on the appraisal powers of our transcendent mind and will, but behind this appraisal stands the basic counsel, "Endeavor to be inclined always" to imitate Christ and to be ready to do what is most consonant with our call to radical discipleship. This commitment will inevitably lead us through the narrow way of the night of the senses, for we will have to die to the old, unredeemed, fleshy pride form, the "pride of life," as St. John calls it, for this "concupiscence" reigns in the world, as separated from God, and gives rise to all the appe-tites. Toward this pride form, we are to try to act with contempt, speak with contempt, and think with contempt. Nothing short of this radical rejec-tion of pride will ready us for radical discipleship. This contemptuous no is for the sake of a greater yes. We are saying no to formation ignorance, to its remote cause which is the pride form, and to its proximate causes, such as the immersion in vitalism, the escape in functionalism, the evasion of interformative responsibility. In saying no to the pride form, we are taking the first necessary step to combating demonic seduction (the deception that we are in charge of our destiny) and growing strong in Christ for the greater struggle to come in the dark night, where our only guide is faith. These counsels are thus an essential preliminary for formation freedom. For only if we desire nothing can we allow God to give us all. In summary, to mortify "the concupiscence of the flesh" means to ceas~ allowing the vital dimension of the life form to be a substitute for the tran-scendent. It means the end of downward transcendence. To mortify "the concupiscence of the eyes" means to cease allowing the functional dimension to dominate our existence with its penchant for envious competition and ego control. It means the end of horizontal transcendence. And, ultimately, to mortify "the pride of life" means to root out the source of our trouble and to pursue upward transcendence, in which the vital and functional spheres become servants of the ascent to God. Such are St. John's basic instructions for climbing to the summit, "the high state of union." Now perhaps we can understand and absorb with relief his concluding counsels., for if we read them properly, they will tell us to desire nothing in order to allow God to give everything. Thus: The First Stage to Union / 175 To reach satisfaction in all desir~e its possession in nothing. To come to possess all desire the possession of nothing. To arrive at being all desire to be nothing. To come to the knowledge of all desire the knowledge of nothing. To come to the pleasure you have not you must go by a way in which you enjoy not. To come to the knowledge you have not you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you have not you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not you must go by a way in which you are not. When you turn toward something you cease to cast yourself upon the All. For to go from all to the All you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your all. In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humiliiy. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied. What St. John is saying in these remarkable verses is that one will reach satisfaction in all, possession of~all, being all one desires, only if one desires nothing but God. One will know much in the knowledge and remembrance that one is no-thing. One is a child of God, emerging from him and returning to him--not an object of one's own pleasure or satisfaction, but his child, with all the dignity that one is afforded thereby. Thus if we want a pleasure higher than any vital stimulation, if we want an understanding greater than any reason can conclude, if we want to possess more than any collection of material or spiritual goods can yield, if we want to be who we most deeply are, then we must follow this narrow way of 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 enjoying what we don't know, of understanding One who is incomprehen-sible, of possessing what we can never fully own--for the divine mystery will ~ilways escape our urge to master it. Indeed, to be who we are we must go by this way in which our pride form is not, in which we are increasingly naughted, in which it is noI longer we who live but Christ who lives in us. Every time we turn toward some thing, person, or event as ultimate or absolute, we turn away from the Lord of all. We cease to cast ourselves upon his mercy, forgiveness, love. To go from the all (God's gifts every-where) to the All (God himself), we must deny ourselves of the All (God), that is, the illusion that the All can be found in or contained in all. God is beyond every little idol we try to create. And even when we possess him, we must do so in a letting-be attitude, without wanting anything but him as he reveals himself. Because if we desire to have something, for example, more consolations or signs of his love, then our treasure in God is not purely or wholly in him as our all, but only in his consolations. The more we reflect on this message, the more we discover that only in this nakedness, this emptiness of spirit, can the soul find its rest. In coveting, in desiring, nothing but God's will, one experiences real tranquil-lity. Whether in adversity or prosperity, whether in consolation or desola-tion, nothing raises one up and nothing weighs one down. It is a blessed state to live in the center of one's humility, to walk graciously in the truth of who one is. Coveting something produces the opposite effect: weariness and torment. For nothing can bring to rest our restless soul save union with God--and it is toward this union that St. John fires our love with urgent longings. Book One closes with two short chapters, which really provide a transi-tion to Book Two. The.phrase St. John comments upon points to the main effect of the active night of sense, namely, "Fired w.ith love's urgent long-ings." The result of this initial purgation of the appetites is a more intense enkindling of another love: a better love, the love of God above all else. The motivation for giving up these attachments must be neither fear of punishment nor the presumption of merit but the freedom, based on faith and love, tb choose a higher good. "By finding his satisfaction and strength in this love, a man will have the courage and constancy to deny readily all other appetites" (AMC, I, 14, 2/105). Such love is not static, but dynamic; it is a longing love. Since the sensory appetites are always in a state of "craving," spiritual desires must be fired with other more "urgent longings." Lacking this transcendence,dynamic, the soul will not be able to overcome the yoke of absolutized vital impulses and functional ambi-tions (what St. John calls the "yoke of nature"); nor will one be able to enter the first night of sense, and certainly one will not have the courage The First Stage to Union / 17"/ to live in the darkness of all things--not by rejecting them as such but by denying the desire for them as if they could provide the fulfillment God alone can offer. St. John will deal with these matters more fully in upcoming Books on the active night of the spirit (which will discuss the purification of our spiritual faculties, intellect, memory and will by, respectively, faith, hope, and love). At least to have passed through the night of the mortification of the senses, the night in which the house of self-will is stilled, is itself a "sheer grace." God's grace, his always active love, has released us already from this prison. But because of our fallenness, "flesh" is still subject to the passions and unruly appetites. To be liberated from this bondage in a way that is unimpeded by its enemies (world, flesh and devil) is for the soul an unspeakably wonderful grace. To achieve this liberation to the full, one must, so to speak, leave the Egypt of sensory satisfaction and cross the desert of spiritual deprivation. When the house of willful appe-tites is quieted through the mortification of sensuality, then the soul is free to walk in genuine freedom, enjoying union with the Beloved. It is to this next phase of renunciation for the sake of greater liberation that one must now turn, keeping in mind this saying of St. John's: "If you purify your soul of attachment to and desire for things, you will understand them spiritually. If you deny your appetite for them, you will enjoy their truth, understanding what is certain in them" (Sayings o fLight andLove, 46/671). *All quotations can be found in references by paragraph and page number. Collected ~'orks of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, D.C. The Eucharist: Heart of Religious Community Susan Wood, S.C.L. Sister Susan Wood teaches theology at Saint Mary College (Leavenworth, Kansas 66048). This article is the fruit of her reflection in anticipation of her community's General Chapter last summer. As she writes, "Paradoxically, what may be most specific sometimes touches what is true universally." The daily celebration of the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives a source of our charity a fount of inspiration in our mission a sign and means of unity and nourishment. Constitution, #23 Today many sisters are asking whether we can continue to say that the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives. Quite simply, some say, for many of us our daily schedules prohibit a daily eucharistic celebration. Others question how the Eucharist can be expressive of unity in a situation where the worshipping community does not know one another. Still others wonder whether we should celebrate Eucharist at all if we find ourselves divided and still in need of reconciliation with one another. They remind us that Jesus said to leave our gift at the altar and be reconciled with our sister and brother before offering our gift. If we inquire further, we discover yet more serious roots of the current questioning of the place of the Eucharist in our religious lives. The Eucharist may appear to be a devotional practice which, while important, is somehow peripheral to other concerns which claim our energies. The real task that 178 The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 179 the question of the place of the Eucharist in our lives sets before us is the identification of what constitutes the center of our common life. Is our service of the poor our focal point? Is our common life? Does the inspiration for our religious adaptation and reform repose in fundamentally non-sacramental realities such as community, authority, Chapter enactments, the Constitution, our apostolates, our charism? Or can we say that our sacramental life is our center, and that all these important, but non-sacramental, aspects of our life are means rather than ends in themselves. That is, they are the means of extending and making concrete and specific the sacramental reality which first defines our life together. These pages cannot solve the problems of conflicting schedules; nor do they pretend to offer a complete theology of the Eucharist. They do propose, however, to examine some connections between the Eucharist and religious community. It is only after we grasp this connection that we will be equipped to address the more concrete questions concerning our daily eucharistic celebration. Religious Life: An Ecclesial Life The basis for the connection between the Eucharist and religious com-munity is, first, the relationship between religious life and the Church and, second, the close association between the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist. The first presupposition is that religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. More than simply a manner of living within the Church, religious life is directly oriented to the Church. This is evident within our own tradition when we recall St. Vincent de Paul's description of the Daughters of Charity as "daughters of the Church." The ecclesial character of religious consecra-tion is further evident in its sacramental foundation, baptism. In baptism we are incorporated into the body of Christ and his Church and our religious life is an attempt to live out the implications of our baptism, and thus this incorporation, in a radical way. As a radical living out of the baptismal commitment, religious life is equally a living out of our identity as ecclesial women. This theology appears in our Constitution where we state: As Christians united personally by baptism to Jesus Christ and to his body, the Church, the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth . . . are women who view baptism as the most significant event in our lives and who have responded freely to the Divine call to express this consecration more fully by profession of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience lived in apostolic and communal love (Constitution, n. 3). The decree of the Second Vatican Council, Perfectae Caritatis, refers Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 to this ecclesial~orientation when it urges religious to "more and more live and think with the Church," and "dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to its mission (n. 6).'.' If our unity as a Church is the unity in the Spirit of the body of Christ, and if our identity as religious women is inseparable from 0u¢ identity as ecclesial women, then it follows that the source of our unity is radically identical with that of the Church. In other words, our unity is baptismal and eucharistic. From this close association between religious and ecclesial life, it follows that the relationship between the Eucharist and religious community will be analogous to that between the Eucharist and the Church. The Unity of Baptism and Eucharist The second theological presupposition is that baptism and Eucharist are intrinsically related. Consequently, if religious life is a radical living of the baptismal commitment, it is no less a eucharistically centered life. The Eucharist is not simply that which we receive when we come together as the Church. Nor is it primarily a celebration of who we are as a believing community. The Church does not exist prior to the Eucharist, but is formed and created by it. This may appear at first as paradoxical, for in a sense a minister and community are necessary for the celebration of the sacrament. One may also object that the Christian community is formed by baptism rather than the Eucharist. This, however, ~eparates the sacraments of initia-tion when they should instead be seen as a unity. Baptism is indeed incorpora-tion into the Church, but the culmination or fulfillment of the sacraments of initiation, and thus baptism, is the Eucharist. Initiation into the Church is incomplete without the reception of the Eucharist which is incorporation into the historical body of Christ sacramentally present in our world. This is evident in the rite of initiation in the Eastern Church where baptism, confir-mation and Eucharist are conferred within the same ceremony. Baptism and the Eucharist.are closely associated, first, because both are intrinsically related to Christ's Paschal Mystery. In the Eucharist we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes (1 Co 11: 26). In the eucharistic sacrifice the victory and triumph of Christ are again made present (Sacrosanctum Concilium, I. 6). In baptism we are plunged into the Paschal Mystery of Christ, die with him to sin, are buried with him, and rise with him to a new life in Christ (Rm 6:4; Ep 2:6; Col 3:1; 2 Tm 2:11). Second, both baptism and the Eucharist are means of incorporation into the body of Christ. The text of 1 Co 12:12-13 makes this clear regarding baptism: Just as a human body, tho.ugh it is made up of many parts, is a single unit because all these parts, though many, make one body, so it is with Christ. The Eucharist: Heart of Community In the one Spirit we were all baptized, Jews as well as Greeks, slaves as well as citizens, and one Spirit was given to us all to drink. It is precisely as members of Christ's body that we share in his death and resurrection through baptism (Rm 6: 3-4). The Eucharist is a further means of participation in the body of Christ as is evident in 1 Co 10: 16-17: The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. In the final analysis, therefore, we are incorporated in Christ by both baptism and the Eucharist, the principal reason why they are both considered sacraments of initiation. Initiation into the Church differs from initiation into human societies precisely because it is sacramental. This means not only that through the sign of the sacrament we are initiated into membership in the body of Christ, but that this union with Christ is really achieved now, and is itself a sign of the final eschatological union that all the blessed will share with Christ and with one another. The Eucharist is causative of the Church because the unity of the Church is not that of an aggregate of individuals, a collectivity which exists prior to or independently of Christ, but the unity of a body. In the Eucharist we are nourished by the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and, being vivified by that body, we become one. Consequently, the unity of the Church does not exist metaphysically prior to or apart from its union with and incorporation in Christ. To grasp this profound interconnection between the Church and the Eucharist requires that we think sacramentally rather than according to the categories of human societies and organizations. The temptation throughout history has been to pattern the Church according to the models of society current at the time--in our day the democratic model. The Mystery in which we are invited to participate transcends merely human structures. An example of the shift required in our perception is that while that which we eat is normally transformed into our own flesh and blood, in the sacrament we. are assimilated to Christ, not he to us. The unity of the Church is not a moral unit~, sustained by the good will and cooperation of those consenting to be united, but rather is the unity created on the initiative of Christ who offers us the New Covenant. The Ecclesial Dimension of the Eucharist We believe that sacraments are efficacious signs of God's grace. Therefore we believe that what is signed by the sacrament achieves its effect in us both Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 individually and communally. The sign of the Eucharist is our partaking of Christ's body, efficaciously signified by the bread and wine. Sacramental realism assures us that that which is both signed and effected is our union with Christ, and, as 1 Co 10 indicates~ our union with one another. In tradi-tional eucharistic theology this effect of the Eucharist has been- called the res tantum, and is none other than the unity of the ecclesial body, the Church. This unity is the union of the members with their head, Christ. Since the middle of the twelfth century, largely in response to the eucharistic controversy involving Berengarius, eucharistic theology has fre-quently concentrated on eucharistic realism. Great care has been exerted to emphasize the fact that Christ is really and truly present in the Eucharist. While this truth is of incomparabl~ worth within eucharistic theology, the care to correct a heretical eucharistic theology led to the neglect of the ecciesial dimension of the sacrament. A eucharistic piety that focuses too narrowly and exclusively on the real presence often misses the ecclesial signification of the sacrament, as well as its context within salvation history. The Eucharist in addition to and precisely because it is the sacramental presence of Christ within history is anamesis (remembrance) as well as antici-pation. As remembrance it is the representation of the sacrifice of Christ as well as the fulfillment of the typological prefigurations of Christ's sacrifice in the Old Testament. As anticipation it looks ahead to the final eschato-logical union of all the blessed with Christ at the end time. The final union of the members of Christ with their head is what St. Augustine called the "whole Christ." Thus the Eucharist is an instance of what theologians call "realized eschatology." That is, that which will be complete at the end time eschatologically is already present in a real, but incomplete form. We are really united with Christ now in the present time, but this union prefigures a complete union for which we work, pray, and wait. In a similar manner, we are really sacramentally united with one another, but our unity is still imperfect. Concrete Consequences of a Eucharistic Ecclesiology Once this is seen, certain corollaries become evident. First, the referent of the sacrament, that is, that which it signs, is both the Christ who died, rose and ascended to the Father as well as the eschatological union of all the blessed with Christ. Thus the sacrament effects this union in the present, but its ultimate referent transcends the present as it anticipates this final union. This means that the primary referent of the Eucharist is not the immanent worshipping community or exclusively the presence of the Christ within the community. The Eucharist is not a celebration of unity achieved apart from our union with Christ and prior.to the Eucharist, but effects The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 183 and anticipates that for which we hope as Christians--final, irrevocable union in Christ. This means that we do not wait until we experience perfect union before we approach the Eucharist. If a community stands in need of reconcilia-tion, it should indeed work so that it is in fact what it proclaims itself to be in word, namely, Christian community. However, just as we do not save ourselves but ask for salvific grace, so our reconciliation is not entirely our work but something worked within us by the grace of God with our cooper-ation. The Eucharist is not only a sign of unity, but effects unity and recon-ciliation; Secondly, the community which gathers for eucharistic worship is not required to be an intimate, homogeneous group. The universality of the kingdom of God, the body of Christ, indicates that those ecclesial communities which most accurately reflect the universal vocation to union with God may be the most diverse of groups, often anonymous, where faith in our common vocation transcends the diversity of races, nations and walks of life. This does not me.an that we should not work for a more ideal realization of como munity but rather that such an ideal should not become a prior condition of eucharistic worship. Third, although in the Eucharist we receive the sacramental presence of Christ, the primary focus of the sacrament is communal rather than indi-vidual. We approach the Eucharist as a Christian community who celebrates the great things the Lord has done for us in his life, death and rising. The Eucharist as anamesis, that is, remembrance, sacramental presence and pledge of our. future hope, reminds us that we are a people in the midst of the history of God's salvific plan for us. This communal and historical focus of the sacrament is the primary reason why communion services can never be an adequate substitute for the celebration of the Eucharist. These services, even under the best of circumstances, emphasize the individual's reception of the sacramental presence of Christ rather than the community's immersion in salvation history with its celebration of a past event sacramentally present, itself a sign of a future reality. The Eucharist is properly word and sacra, ment, the sacrament representing more than the presence of Christ's body and blood. It is also the presence of that sacrifice which renders that body and blood efficacious for our salvation. Objective vs. Subjective Meaning of the Eucharist One of the problems today is that we may~be confusing "meaning" with "meaningfulness." The first is an objective category while the second is s~ubjective. When we experience the liturgy as dull and lifeless, apparently divorced from the rest of our lives, we are tempted to say that it has "lost Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 meaning" for us. In this instance what we really mean is that it has ceased to be meaningful. The Eucharist obviously has not lost its objective meaning as the sacramental presence of Christ within human history, as the Christian community's remembrance and representation of Christ's salvific death and rising, as an efficacious sign of our future union in Christ. Our experience, therefore, is more of a statement about ourselves than about the objective meaning of what takes place at our eucharistic liturgy. It is a statement 6f our inability to consciously live and celebrate what we believe, of the incongruity between our life as a Christian community and what the Eucharist calls us to be as a community. Indeed, we may experience fragmentation, boredom and disunion but this experience is a call to recon-ciliation, a call to approach the altar once again so that that which we cele-brate liturgically may be integral with the whole of our life, a call to pray for a more lively faith. It is likewise a call to contribute our best efforts so that our liturgical prayer, through sign and symbol, awakens, fortifies and expresses our faith. Even though it is a mistake to confuse meaning with meaningfulness, we are not excused from the efforts necessary for good liturgical celebration, including personal prayer and reading of Scripture as well as the more proxi-mate preparations of celebrants, musicians and artists. Sacraments are signs, and signs are of their nature human, subject to expressing more or less adequately what they signify. The liturgical renewal enjoined by Vatican II calls for a more active participation on the part of the faithful so that the liturgy can be the "outstanding means by which the faithful can express ~n their love, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nature of the true Church" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 2). Within eucharistic theology there exists an objective and subjective di-mension of the sacrament. Traditionally this has been referred to as the opus operatum, the work effected by Christ, and the opus operantis. This latter term originally referred to the disposition of the celebrant. The dis-tinction between the two terms explained how a Mass celebrated by a priest in a state of serious sin was still valid although not spiritually fruitful for him. Recent writers have extended the meaning of opus operantis to refer to the cooperation with and active reception of grace by the believer. In the opus operatum, the objective element of the sacrament, we are assured that Christ is really present. In the second, the subjective element, we receive grace, and the sacrament is "fruitful" with our growth in faith, hope and charity. The question of meaning vs. meaningfulness can, in part, be expressed as the relation between the objective reality of the sacrament, the opus oper-atum, and the subjective disposition of the recipient, the opus operantisl The Eucharist: Heart of Community Our sacramental celebrations may appear arid when the ecclesial reality of the sacrament does not find expression in a renewed commitment to Christ and his Church. Some writers, including Karl Rahner, discuss the frequency of eucharistic celebration with reference to the opus operantis, saying that this frequency should be governed by the conditions which make it possible for us to receive the sacrament fruitfully, with conscious faith and the psychic energy necessary to enter subjectively into that which we celebrate objectively. Two extremes are to be avoided. First, within the context of the communal character of the Eucharist, it is obvious that it is not question of increasing grace by multiplying the number of eucharistic celebr.ations one attends. This not only emphasizes the individual rather than the com-munal nature of the Eucharist, but it also quantifies grace, distorting its primarily relational character. However, it is equally a mistake to expect each 0"f our eucharistic celebrations to be a peak religious experience. An excessive emphasis on our preparation and readiness for the Eucharist makes it our work rather than God's gift and action on. us. In the Eucharist we are invited once again to enter into the New Covenant. Within the vicissitudes of our life we need to be invited to this oft~en, perhaps even daily. The Lord's Prayer provides,us with the model for the dailiness of our eucharistic celebration for when we ask for our daily bread, this is no less than the Bread of Life. However, this emphasis on the ideal of a daily celebration need be neither slavish nor mechanistic. The essential is to realize that the Eucharist is truly the sacramental focal point of our reli-gious life together. Once this is realized and lived, the frequency of our eucharistic celebration will not be so much a question of legislation as that which is truly possible within our individual circumstances and the expression of who we are as ecclesial women. The relationship between Eucharist and religious community is parallel to the relationship between the Church and the Eucharist. Within ecclesiology today there are many theologies competing with a eucharistic ecclesiology. The search for relevance and liberation has prompted dialogue on what con-stitutes salvatio.n, whether it represents liberation from oppressive societal structures and/or whether it is more properly a release from the bondage of sin. Much of what is good within this discussion represents a healthy correction of the excessive individualism which has plagued us since the Enlightenment. An excessive emphasis on intra-worldly goals of this liberation is now being cort~ected within a broader vision of the drama of sin and grace in the world. That these same tensions are reflected in religious life is no accident since religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. In many ways a religious commu-nity is a microcosm of the larger Church. Within this perspective it is not "186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sufficient that we pray together, serve the poor and live a common life, We can do all these things without being a religious community. Although our charism is to serve the poor, our primary identity is not that of the social worker. Furthermore, there are times when the non-sacramental aspects of our life lead us away from our true identity as a religious community. For instance, we may become excessively work-orierited. While work for the kingdom is praiseworthy, a certain attitude distorts our work so that it becomes something which we undertake, initiate. Our events replace the Christ event. Communal efforts become our action rather than God's action on us, and the Eucharist becbmes a devotional practice rather than the most fundamental expression of the reality of our lives. The Eucharist is the heart of religious community because it is the histor-ical presence of the New Covenant which unites that community with its Lord. Our primary identity is to be a eucharistic community in union with Christ. Our service of others then flows as a consequence of what the Eucharist means--as a response of thankfulness for what the Lord has done for us, as the service modeled by. Christ at the Last Supper, as a means of facilitating the union of all in Christ. It is then that we can truly say that the Eucharist is the focal point of our lives. Good Friday, April 1, 1983 Gently running, delicate raindrops--spring rain as tears from the windows of my soul. The clear-paned pain allows me to glimpse the promise of life within the dry earth, within myself. Suffering and tears stir tender blossoms deep inside. They struggle to break through the crusty-hard shell, to lift themselves to the long-promised warmth of the loving Son. Sister Mary Therese Macys, S.S.C. 2601 W. Marquette Road Chicago, Illinois 60629 Learning from the Worldly Leo D. Davis, S.J. Father Davis, a member of the Jesuits' Oregon Province, presently resides in Italy, where he may be addressed: Via Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze,: Italy. "For the worldly are more astute than the other worldly in dealing with their own kind" (Lk 16:8). Desperate for American reading material while in a foreign country, ] dipped recently into one of the national best sellers of a few years .back, Peters and Waterman's In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Companies (New York: Warner °Books, 1982). Though not ordi-narily a reader of business literature, I found the book absorbing, not as a study of American business success, but as an indication of why many religious institutes, including my own, fail specifically as organizations to reach their goals. Of course, we religious are not primarily in business: auxiliary to our main purposes we do run businesses. These auxiliary enter-prises, however, are not my concern in this article. Rather, I'm interested in how we organize and conduct ~urselves in spreading the Word of God and serving our neighbor. Can we learn from successful business con-cerns how to do this better? I I~ave it to the readers themselves to judge after considering Peters and Waterman's findings. The two studied sixty-two corporations in the fields of high tech-nology, consumer goods, services, industrial supplies, management and resources. They wanted to discover just what makes these firms leaders in their fields. They found that all agree on an eight point philosophy in doing business. Contr'~ry to what one might expect from business men out to make a 187 11~8 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 buck, the authors argue that hardheaded rationality is not enough to suc-ceed. International Telephone and Telegraph, for example, was managed in a rigidly national fashion, and failed. The war in Vietnam was largely run from the Pentagon by Robert McNamara's Ford Company technical "whiz kids," and we all know the outcome. Mere technique however sophisticated, won't do the trick. Planning, long and short range, is needed, but planning can often become an end in itself. Of three hundred twenty-five planning task forces studied, none had yet finished its task after three years of work. Task forces, the authors suggest, should be small, limited in time, volun-tary, and contain some senior staff. Their work should call for no addi-tional staff and produce a minimum of documentation. Follow-up on their recommendations should be swift. Paper shuffling among executives and back and forth between executives and managers can stifle all action. Analysis can lead to . paralysis. Gamesmanship and contention in committees replace action. As one executive commented, it is easier to develop a negative argument f~r doing nothing than to advance a constructive one which issues in action. The authors argue that major concerns should be dealt with one at a time. More than two objectives for a task force mean no objectives at all. There should be constant communication, constant keeping in touch with the realities and persons involved in decisions. Communications should be short and clear; the authors cite the famous practice of Procter and Gamble in restricting all memoranda to a single page. Chaotic action is preferable to no action at all. Experimentation and testing ideas in prac-tice is better than just talking about problems. Get people acting and they solve their problems, and come to believe in what they're doing. Close to the Customer As religious, we're not, as such, selling goods to customers, but we are dealing with people. What are the needs, tastes, preferences of those with whom we deal? Are we willing to put ourselves out for others? The successful companies know their clientele and go to great lengths to serve them. Thomas Watson of International Business Machines had a simple philosophy: We want to give the best customer service of any company in the world. He guaranteed answering any customer complaint in twenty-four hours. Caterpillar Tractors guarantees forty-eight hour service to any country of the world. Frito-Lay aims at a 99.5 percent rate of service in peddling their products; they will spend several hundred dollars to restock a remote store with thirty dollars worth of potato chips. But their reputa-tion for reliability in the end outweighs the short term costs. I'm reminded Learning from the Worldly of an old priest colleague of mine who was preaching to the coffee room audience on service; when a telephone call interrupted him, he told the caller to see him during office hours--and continued his harangue with no sense of incongruity. The Disney people realize what service means; sixteen-year old ticket takers at Disneyland are put through four eight-hour days of training just so they can take tickets with the Disney elan. McDonald's scores of billions of hamburgers are sold by insistence on cleanliness, efficient ser-vice, uniform quality and reliability. Burgers not sold ten minutes after cooking are thrown out; french fries, after seven minutes; and their cashiers are taught to have eye contact with the customers. The authors give an example of the extraordinary lengths to which some companies will go. When a woman complained about a foul-up with a discount air ticket, she wrote to the president of Delta Airlines. The president of the corporation himself met her at the airport and per-sonally presented her with a new ticket. All these companies stress quality. McDonald's, with seven thousand restaurants doing 2.5 billion dollars worth of business annually, tell their stockholders: Quality is the first word in McDonald's motto. Digital Com-puter's philosophy states: "Growth is not our principal goal. Our goal is to be a quality organization and'do a quality job, which means that we will be proud of our work and products for years to come. As we achieve quality, growth will come as a result." There's food for thought here for religious experiencing a decline in vocations. The lonely Maytag serviceman of the TV ads is a symbol of the company's guarantee of ten years' trouble-free operation of any machine. Hewlett-Packard is obsessed with quality; ask them about personnel, they talk quality; ask about sales, they talk quality; ask about management, they talk quality. The president of Heineken Beer says bluntly, "I consider a bad bottle of Heineken a personal insult to me." Until recently, the eighty-two-year-old founder of Marriott Hotels read every complaint card personally. Productivity Through People All members of an organization should be made aware that their best efforts are essential to success and that they will share in that success. Here again we religious in the ranks are not mere employees in the ministries of our institutes. In fact, many times we might be better off in some of America's best companies than at the hands of some religious superiors. One executive complained to the authors: People issues take up all my time. To them he was really saying that his business would be easy to run if it weren't for people. But corporations, like religious institutes, 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are people. Those who work in them should be treated as adults and as partners, with dignity and respect. This doesn't mean that they be mollycoddled; they should be given reasonable and clear expectations, and practical autonomy to get the job done. In a study of school teachers, the authors point out it was found that when they held high expectations of their students, that alone was enough to cause an increase of twenty-five points in the students' IQ scores. Workers should understand what is being done and why. Peters and Waterman quote Admiral Zumwalt's method of reorganizing Navy prac-tices: What I tried hardest to do was ensure that every officer and sailor on the ship not only knew what we were about, not only why we were doing each tactical operation, however onerous, but also managed to understand enough about how it all fitted together so that they began to experience some of the fun and challenge that those of us in the top slot were having. 1 knew from experience the impact of treating sailors like the mature adults they were. Dedicated religious women and men deserve no less. Communication between superiors and ranks cannot be mere lip ser-vice, mere gimmicks, but must be a sincere effort to make all really part of the team. Sam Walton has built a company from eighteen to three hun-dred thirty stores, with sales rising from forty-five million dollars, to 1.6 billion dollars and the process made his family the richest in the United States. He always calls his employees "associates." "The key is to get out and hear what the associates have to say," he states. "It's terribly important for everyone to get involved." For him this is not lip service: one sleepless night he went down to the loading dock with four dozen donuts and talked to his "associates." He learned that they needed two more shower stalls in the wash room--and they got them. This is a sur-prising degree of concern in an executive running a 1.6 billion dollar com-pany. Again, when Thomas Watson first took over IBM, he was not out to shake up the company by wholesale transfers and firings, but to buff and polish those already in place so their performance would improve; his bone-deep belief, says his son, was respect for the individual. Peters and Waterman suggest some simple rules iia the treatment of workers: all important communication should be face to face; there should be opportunity for career education; there should be security in their posi-tions. Superiors should be accessible to all, their doors always open. Finally, there should be incentives. "A man wouldn't sell his life to Learning from the Worldly you, but he would give it to you for a piece of colored ribbon," says a war correspondent about soldiers in World War lI. The best corporations go to extraordinary lengths to reward good performance, creating oppor-tunities for showering pens, badges, buttons and medals on their people. At Mars Candy everyone on time for work during the week gets a ten percent bonus; IBM has a "gold circle" for top salespersons; Tupperware senior management spend thirty days a year at "jubilees" for outstanding performers; one company even puts gold stars on a public bulletin board after the names of those who don't miss work. Religious might well feel out of place in an atmosphere like this. Indeed, our vocation is not to look for rewards but to dedicate ourselves to the selfless service of God and neighbor. But superiors, on their side, should be aware of the value of incentives; nothing is more powerful than positive reinforcement. This, the authors advise, should be specific, tan-gible and frequent. They point to a model of motivation in a Procter and Gamble executive who, red in the face and vehement, told a Stanford University seminar: "Just because the product is toilet paper doesn't mean that Procter and Gamble doesn't make it a damn sight better than anyone else." The executive, he continues, is called to help fulfill the individ-ual's search to transcend himself or herself, to avoid isolation and the fear of helplessness, to give people a sense of being, in control of their des-tiny. High performance is based on intrinsic motivations: people must believe that a task is inherently worthwhile if they are to be committed to it. All this to sell toilet paper! Hands On, Value Driven Management The authors insist that the successful executive keeps in close touch not only with personnel but with the firm's essential business. Again Thomas Watson of IBM: "I believe the real difference between success and failure in a corporation can very often be traced to the question of how well the organization brings out the great energies and talents of its people . I firmly believe that any organization, in order to survive and achieve success, must have a sound set of beliefs on which it premises all its policies and actions. Next, I believe that the most important single factor in corporate success is faithful adherence to those beliefs. And, finally, I believe if an organization is to meet the challenge of a changing world, it must be prepared to change everything about itself except those beliefs . " The institutional leader is primarily an expert in the promotion and protection of values. The basic values: a belief in being the best; in the "" "109 / Review for Reiigious, March-April, 1987 importance of the details of execution; in the importance of people as indi-viduals; in superior quality and service; in supporting innovation and tolerating failure. The effective leader must be a master of two ends of the spectrum--ideas at the highest level and actions at the most mundane levels of detail. The top performers create a broad, uplifting, shared: cul-ture, a coherent framework within which charged up people search for appropriate adaptations. The real leader does' not force others to submit and follow him by the sheer overwhelming magic of his personality. He is influential in inspiring and strengthening them; he arouses confidence. Success in instilling values appears to have little to do with charismatic personality. Rather it derives from obvious, sincere, sustained personal commitment to the values the leader seeks to implant, coupled with extraordinary persistence in reinforcing these values. Hewlett- Packard advises its executives to wander around, being approachable, accessible, listening, keeping people informed. Others advise: don't summon people to your office; go see them. Kill grimness with laughter; maintain an atmosphere of informality; encourage exuberance. Without such hands on management, it seems nothing much happens. Stick to the Knitting By this Peters and Waterman mean, "Remain with the business you know best." Organizations that do branch out but stick close to their orig-inal purpose outperform others. Successful companies enter only those businesses that build on, draw strength from, and enlarge some central area of competence. ITT began as an international telephone company, but the tools that it took to run a phone company in Chile didn't help much in the management of newly acquired Continental Baking and Sheraton Hotels. The result was that ITT had to sell off thirty-three busi-nesses. The lesson is never acquire a business you don't know how to run. Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing, makers of Scotch tape, make fifty thousand other products and introduce one hundred new ones each year, but all is built around its central coating-and~bonding technology. Procter and Gamble is good at soap, but Pringles' potato chips, machined to uniform size in a neat box, is an apparent failure from the standpoint of consumer taste. Simple.Form, Lean Staff The authors are passionate advocates of clear, simple structural organization so that everyone knows to which boss to report. Some staff gain power by keeping everything vague and unclear. Outlaws can use the lack of clarity to their own advantage and to the detriment of the whole. Learning from the Worldly / 193 With simple organization, fewer staff are needed at headquarters to make things work. Emerson Electric, with fifty-four thousand personnel, has one hundred in corporate headquarters; Dava Industries, with thirty-five thousand, has one hundred; Schlumberger, an oil service company with six billion dollars worth of business annually, has ninety cprporate staff. The Society of Jesus in its headquarters in Rome has ninety-five on the corporate staff for only 25,500 personnel. The story goes around Jesuit circles that at one time our largest province had more departmental provincials than first year novices. "Less is more" in corporate manage-hment, say Peters and Waterman. Simultaneous Loose-Tight Properties By this the authors mean fostering a climate in which there is dedica-tion to the central values of the company combined with tolerance for all employees who accept these values. The central values must be carefully fostered and protected, yet autonomy, entrepreneurship and innovation should flourish among the rank and file. The discipline of shared values provides the framework for all the rest. It gives people confidence to exper-iment stemming from stable expectations of what really counts. Too much overbearing discipline kills autonomy but the discipline of shared values encourages innovation. Rules should reinforce positive traits and not just discourage negative ones. The company should offer meaning, provide guiding belief, create a sense of excitement, a sense of being part of the best, a sense of producing something of quality that is valued. Basic .values should be set in concrete, and executed by attention to mundane, nitty-gritty details. Every hour, everyday is an opportunity to act in sup-port of overarching themes. A lively sense of realism enforces tight disci-pline; the attention to the desires and needs of the clientele is the most stringent means of self-discipline. Autonomy and Entrepreneurship Tight discipline and preservation of basic values should not interfere with a stress on innovation, and a tolerance of failure for those who fail in the pursuit of innovation. Some companies support "skunk works" where the talented mavericks of the business brainstorm and experiment. All of this must be coupled with constant communication and the dogged persistence of innovators to put their ideas across. Interestingly enough, physical proximity is vital in this communica-tion. The authors point out that people working thirty feet apart meet each other only eight to nine percent of the time, while those working only fif-teen feet apart meet twenty-five percent of the time. They maintain that 194 / Roview for Religious, March-April, 1987 the best companies do their work in large, self-contained, campus-like headquarters outside the city. What does all this add up to? What I've tried to say in a modern idiom and detail drawn from actual studies is only what St. Paul told his Corinthians: "You know (do you not?) that at sports all the runners run the race, though only one wins the prize. Like them, run to win! But every athlete goes into strict training. They do it to win a fading wreath; we, a wreath that never fades" (1 Co 9:24-25). The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Modern Media and the Religious Sense of Community Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Father Neuman is well known to our readers. His last article in these pages was entitled "Personality and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates" (May/June, 1986). Father Neuman continues to teach at St. Meinrad Seminary; St.Meinrad, Indiana 47577. Back in the sixth century St. Benedict, in his Rule, included a short chap-ter on "The Proper Amount of Drink." To modem ears some of its sug-gestions may seem mildly humorous, yet in context a radical practicality pervades the .thought of this monastic genius. We read that monks should not drink wine at all, but since the monks of our day cannot be convinced of this, let us at least agree to drink mod-erately and not to the point of excess, for wine makes even the ffise to go astray.' Were this same St. Benedict composing a rule for a religious order of the late twentieth century it is quite likely he would feel the need to insert a chapter on "The Proper Amount of Watching Television" with similar suggestions and pleas .for moderation. For few would be the reli-gious men and women today who would agree that they should avoid all television. This article treats some of the background issues which would lead to that hypothetical modern chapter on the proper amount of television. Actually the topic goes far beyond television to include all manner of modem electronic media: radio, stereo systems, cassette players, tele-phones, VCRs and, most recently, computers (can spiritual video games be far behind'?). What religious house is there that has not felt the inva- 195 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sion of this technology? What communities today do not admit into for-mation programs young people shaped by a high-intensity media culture? The electronic media have, for better or worse, become part of the ethos of life in twentieth-century America. My basic premise suggests that the presence of these media has influ-enced the communal shape of religious community life far more drastically than we may initially surmise. Surely the use of such media affect common schedules (viewing a late "Special" on some current event) and budgets ("Our office must have a computer!"). Beyond these surface impacts the involvement with media slowly but surely has shifted our very sense of what community means and how we associate as social persons. To media theorists one of the major human effects of all cultural media, and particularly electronic media, is to create a very specific and delimited realization of "being together," a style of how people gather and interact.'- For example, television gathers people physically, but focuses their communal attention outwardly and away from the people around them. Relentlessly sustained participation in such media experi-ences will alter slowly the way one interacts and responds in all situa-tions. Television creates an instant community which passively watches. As an interesting sidelight, when television first began to be widely commercial in the 1950s the leading American theorist on communica-tions flatly predicted that it would never be a success because "people would have to sit in a dark room and ignore each other." One might wonder how far that attitude has affected our religious sense of com-munity? Other entertainment media besides television reinforce this psy-chological separation or distancing from one's immediate surroundings and relationships. Cassettes and stereos supply individual, isolated encoun-ters with music and detached thoughts. Now with portable stereo and ear-phones we can eat, recreate, shop or work, and clearly advertise that we wish no personal contact with anyone immediately around us. The tele-phone brings instant contact over worldwide distances; we start to belong to a global network embracing an incredibly wide range of personal connections. Without our being that aware, these daily immersions into media experience adjust our expectations of personal relationships. In par-ticular they change the way we are involved with the people immediately around us. The previous issue is a critical one for vowed religious who have a spiritual stake in the meaning and practice of community life. According to the Church's law, participation in community is essential for one to be considered a religious by the Church;3 in contemporary theology the for- Modern Media and Community mation of authentic community is praised as a preeminent goal of Chris-tian life and ministry; and in many modern forms of spirituality the very notion of community inclines toward the realizing of the Trinitarian mys-tery of God.4 But with the arrival of the electronic community we had better stop and take a careful look at what precise actions are implied in the linguistic usage of "community jargon." Under the surface we may find a clash of world views taking place, a clash that undermines real com-munity, an undermining that gnaws away in the midst of people busily doing their daily work, living their lives, and talking incessantly about community as an important aspect of their lives. A brief comparison of these contrasting world views of community might focus our reflections. The ancient notion of "religious" com-munity, as traditionally used of the Church as a whole or of particular vowed communities, rested on a conviction of human solidarity borrowed from the goals, structures and attitudes of a close-knit, agrarian, craft-based or familial society. Community here meant the composite of ways that people lived, worked, prayed and played together. The goal of such sustained daily interaction was communal solidarity, mutual commitment, the sharing of hopes and values in a communality of life. The structures which embedded those goals aimed at a slow, patient, day-by-day, elbow-by- elbow building up of emotional bonds and support systems. Just as one learned to love in familially-arranged marriages, so one learned to be a member of a vowed community by the shaping of common intentions formed through daily work and prayer. These community goals and struc-tures depended on social routines of living that stressed the physical prox-imity and sharing of participants over the long haul of life. This religious vision of community was a prize to be won through sustained work and prayer. The concluding words of the Prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict exemplify perfectly this ancient vision: Therefore we intend to establish a school for the Lord's service. In draw-ing up its regu!ations, we hope to set down nothing harsh, nothing bur-densome. The good of all concerned, however, may prompt us to a little strictness in order to amend faults and to s~ifeguard love. Do not be daunted immed!.ately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God's commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observ-ing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom.5 1911 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 How divergent appears the community of the electronic mindset! It presents instantaneous intentions drawn from anywhere in the world, and on any topic, from far bey6nd the gathered viewers, and its heightened visual intensity etches those intentions into the awareness of participants. Electronic media joins the viewers automatically to a national and world community. The communal intentions that bind us here are all given by what the media chooses to focus on and present. The solidarity of the elec-tronic community does not flow from a patient and lengthy building up of common intentions, but,from the impulsive response to instantaneously given themes. It is a fragile solidarity indeed. Its communality depends on intensity to maintain interest. (So it must deal with a topic ever more heatedly-~or find a new topic.) And media are powerfully effective! By themselves the media constitute a very real and engaging psychological support system. Any individual can retire to the privacy of his or. her room and by means of TV, radio or stereo be in touch with any particular psychological input (to soothe, to excite, to reinforce love, to wal,low in nostalgia). It is a support system that dispenses with flesh and blood people. It is instant electronic community, and is radically different from the older notion of religious community founded on agrarian, craft and familial social patterns. This latter style has been the traditional founda-tion of vowed religious community life in the Church, but it is being increasingly challenged by the newer media style. The critical point I wish to raise is this: if religi6us communities of today believe they can continue to stress and intend the older form of com-munity while allowing the ever-spreading presence and use of electronic media, they are sadly deceiving themselves. Houses in which many indi-viduals hold active ministerial positions in the Church and society must face the challenge more acutely; these people need bolstering in stronger doses. Their increased emotional drain begs for a multitude of psy-chological supports. Make no mistake! Electronic media constitute a pow-erful psychological support system, and by themselves they can under-mine the traditional ethos of familial religious community. The inherent reason that electronic media form such a strong psy-chological buttress lies in their ability to alter the fundamental shape of our sense perceiving. Lengthy exposure to media causes differences in the balancing of sight, hearing, touch and balance. Marshall McLuhan, the great pioneer of media theory, noted that electronic media create an instant sensorium, synthesizing sight, sound and touch simultaneously.~ The music video (MTV) is a perfect example of instantaneous multiple sensual involvement. Through this complex sensory input the perceiver's emotions "heat up" quickly; they can attain an intense level of inner Modern Media and Community involvement, and even psychologically remove the perceiver from the pressures of the present. If I happen to be dealing with some specific vexing problem and my feelings are.tired or conflictive, how smoothly a change comes from flipping on the TV or putting a favorite record on the stereo. These media generate an instant, sensual response and become a psychological support system in themselves. Many aspects of the traditional style of community life have already been affected by the intrusion of media into the daily life of religious houses. The structure and frequency of common recreation has altered sig-nificantly. I've heard many individuals either lament or factually describe the practical disappearance of large community-recreation sessions, the evening walks of many people, the diminishment of common reading rooms. In their place have appeared public television rooms, usually more than one to accommodate smokers and non-smokers (for men's houses) or Dan Rather or Tom Brokaw fans (for women's houses). In some communities the time of the evening news program has influenced the daily schedule of meals arid prayer, although the more recent advent of the video cassette has eliminated this temporary problem. The electronic media have subtly altered what people look for in rec-reation itself, that is, what we expect from and put into a period of recre-ation. In the older familial style, recreation was in part a kind of work, an effort to get to know the individuals of the community and to construct these common intentions that make a group into a true communitas. Russell Baker in his delightful autobiography, Growing Up, reminisced about his childhood evenings when the whole family would sit around the kitchen table for three hours or more, each working at some game, hobby or menial task and conversing about different aspects of their day and inter-ests. Such a scenario would be practically impossible for someone raised in today's media world; it would be the ultimate "bore." Although it is so much easier to watch television, maybe recreation for both families and religious communities needs to recapture some aspects of work and effort. Perhaps it's a modern area of life that demands a practi~:al asceticism. Maybe we should go back to ~the basics and see recreation not just as a time of personal leisure but also as a special moment for build-ing the common intentions with real people that will bond us to a particu-lar group. In the last several decades electronic media have frequently become an intrinsic part of the way some religious communities care for their elderly. Mothers with small children often refer to the television set as the "essential babysitter." The TV also gets used as companion an~ diversion for the infirm and bedridden. Has anyone ever wondered what 200 Review for~Religious, March-April, 1987 kind of psychological impact or shift in fantasy those old priests and sis-ters experience through their continual exposure (subjection) to game shows, soap operas and nighttime police stories? It's a thought worth pondering. In some cases those various media have even generated a new com-munity "official," like the custodian of the TV set or the curator of video movies. Their responsibilities are varied: get the TV guide from the Sunday paper before it disappears, tape the evening news for later rerun, moderate disputes about which programs will be watched, and so on. One final way that the media impinge on religious community life today may be in their subtle escalation of psychological depression. More than a few observers have suggested that depression is merging on becom-ing a national epidemic, the prototypical American social disease that eve-ryone seems to suffer from at one time or another. Depression results from a mixture of physical, psychological and social causes: weariness and exhaustion combine with discouragement that we have not met our expected goals within a social context that regularly fails to provide sus-taining or creative human relationships. All of these causes can be com-monly present in work-oriented, overly-structured and perfection-motivated religious houses. When someone senses the weariness and dis-couragement that keys the onset of depression, the easiest response is to plop in front of the TV set and watch "anything." It takes no effort at all. Paradoxically the unintended result may intensify those precise psy-chological and social roots of depression, the unreal expectations and the distance from people. Some psychologists have postulated a sharp link-age between TV addiction and habitual depression; the two feed each other in a vicious circle.7 Even though modern media present many difficulties, we could also point to effects which play a positive role: accurate information of world-wide import, entertainment of the highest artistic quality, and new, essen-tial ways of proclaiming the Christian message, as well as a very valid recreational dimension. St. Benedict probably would make the same kinds of concessions that he did about drinking wine. Certainly we ought to borrow his insights about moderation, as well as recognize that the media are probably here to stay in our contemporary houses. In the long run the challenge will be to discover a sense of com-munity living that binds together the older familial style of community with the newer style of spontaneous and heightened psychological interchange. Both possess strong values: the former, a powerful-sense of ptiysical togetherness in work and prayer, a set of common goals built up through repeated sharing, and the virtue of perseverance; the latter, an Modern Media and Community / 201 emphasis on the value of emotional support and a true recreational element in community. The merging of these two styles will affect all types of societal living today: the family, the social organization, the local parish, as well as the monastery. Unfortunately we have usually tended to oppose the different views in an either/or perspective. Without doubt the quality of community living has changed drastically in religious houses since those first telephones, radios and tele-vision sets were brought in. The wisdom of Benedict suggests that it's doubtful if the monks and sisters of our time can be convinced that these instruments are not good for them. So, at least, let us use them not to addiction, but to moderation. That's an incredible word of practical wisdom that resounds through the centuries! NOTES ' RB 1980: The Rule of Benedict. Edited by Timothy Fry, O.S.B., (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1981), p. 241. The quotation is from chapter 40, vv. 6-7. ' Margaret Miles, Image as Insight (Boston: Beacon Press, 1985), pp. 128-132, 148. 3 Canons 573, 602. Code of Canon Law (Washington, DC: Canon Law Society of America, 1983), pp. 219, 227. 4 Evelyn Eaton Whitehead and James Whitehead, Community of Faith: Models and S~t rRaBte 1gi9e8s0 f:o rT Dhee vReulolep ionfg S Ct.h Briesntieadni cCto, mppm. u1n6i5ti-e1s6 (7N.6e Mw aYrsohrakl:l SMecaLbuurhya nP,r Uesns,d 1e9r8s2ta).nd-ing Media: The Extensions of Man (New York: New American Library, 1964), pp. 57-67. See developments of these ideas by John Culkin, S.J., in McLuhan: Hot and Cool, edited by Gerald Emanuel Stem (New York: New American Library, 1967), pp. 49-57. -, 7 Jerry Mander, Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television (New York: Morr6w Quill, 1978). Also Marie Winn, The Plug-In Drug. (New York: Viking, 1977). Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality Sheila Murphy Dr. Murphy is a professor of psychology at Walsh College (2020 Easton St. N.W.; Canton, Ohio 44720) and is also Director of the Rogativa Center, an educational/ research facility, located on the campus, which serves the needs of women and men religious internationally. An earlier article, "Maximizing Human Potential," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1979. A vital concern to vocation directors is the healthy sexuality of the can-, didates they interview. Numerous workshops, articles, and lectures develop interviewing techniques, questions to ask, and areas to cover to facilitate directors' attempts to discover, during initial interviewing, the quality of candidates' sexuality integration. While these are all necessary and important, they represent only half of the story; the other half is the vocation director's own healthy sexuality and sexual integration. All persons are challenged to healthy sexual integration, and vocation directors, especially, must respond to this challenge because of the qual-ity and nature of their ministry. As initial gatekeepers of religious insti-tutions, their perceptions, judgments, and reactions regarding applicants determine whether of not, in many cases, candidates progress beyond expressing initial interest in a congregation or diocese. In this vital role, vocation directors need to be very clear about which interview issues are their own and which belong to the candidates. This is particularly essen-tial in the area of healthy sexuality. Healthy Sexuality--A Definition Healthy sexuality reflects the integration of the total person. Not a "separate" area of human development, sexuality is the total expression 202 Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 203 of an individual's social, intellectual, physical, and emotional develop-ment. In addition, the combination of these is also the individual's spirituality--the person's complete expression of who she or he is in rela-tionship to self, to others, and to God. Everything people do is sexual. Embodied as women or men, people express their femaleness or maleness in all aspects of their beings. As a ¯ female, for example, everything I do is sexual because I do everything as a woman; I do not function as an it, nor can I be a man. This simple yet relatively new concept was not part of the pre-Vatican theology or sociology in which most people were raised. On the contrary, most grew up in a time when sexuality was associated with genital behaviors, the epit-ome of which was heterosexual intercourse, and divorced from all other areas of human functioning. Within that limited perspective, the full gamut of interpersonal interaction, like self-disclosure, affection, and play-ful touching, were either dismissed as trivial or judged to be suspect behaviors employed as a prelude to the "real thing," i.e., genital inter-course. Also in ~this perception, people's social, emotional, and intellec-tual development were believed to be unrelated to their sexual integration. Such beliefs led to personality fragmentation, suggesting to people that they could compartmentalize their beings and their lives as if they were machines rather than vibrant, dynamic individuals. Because people are constantly emerging as persons, so, too, is their sexuality. Understandings of themselves that answered yesterday's questions may no longer be viable for today's. This all implies that a per-sonal understanding of sexuality is nbt a "one shot" insight to be devel-oped in adolescence (another myth perpetrated by the pre-Vatican II the-ology and sociology), but an ongoing struggle for authenticity. Vocation directors, like other religious, have been struggling for years to incorporate these newer understandings of self, sexuality, and spirituality into their religious lives and their ministries. A formidable task, this requires a rethinking and readapting of many teachings and beliefs that were entrenched in childhood and young-adult education. Fur-thermore, not all are in agreement regarding this concept; theologians, priests and religious continue to argue the place of sexuality in human development. As a personal and corporate enterprise, developing healthy sexuality is no easy task! Sexuality as a holistic concept suggests that the overall quality of people's lives is reflected in their interactions. If they are having difficul- .ties with their feelings, then these people will have difficulties with their sexuality. If intellectually confused or agitated, then they will be sexually and spirituhlly impeded. Feeling unaccepted by or alienated from their pri- 204 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 mary support congregation or diocese, these people will suffer other rela-tional and spiritual problems as well. Hazards of Vocation Ministry Vocatipn ministry is uniquely demanding, and recent reports and research on vocation directors indicate the importance of personal and sexual integration. Perhaps one of the most telling findings is th~ fact that the attrition rate from the ministry on the part of vocation directors exceeds sixty percent. They leave the ministry altogether either while still functioning as directors or shortly after terminating their positions. This certainly underscores the intensity and problems indigenous to this ministry. Another finding is the high rate of burnout reported by vocation directors. It is not uncommon for a vocation director to wear a variety of ministerial hats simultaneously. Many hold two or more jobs, each of which is reputed to be part-time but which, in fact, requires full-time involvement and energy. In addition to their vocation .ministry, many administrate diocesan offices (e.g., deaconate programs), function as parish pastors, or hold full-time teaching positions. They do many differ-ent things during the day, yet retire at night feeling exhausted and unfulfilled, both of which lead to apathy, resentment, and indifference-- all classic symptoms of burnout, the result of unmet personal needs. Some vocation directors report increased cynicism and hostility ~oward the people they serve. What they initially entered into with enthu-siasm and optimism has become fraught with boredom and drudgery. Another manifestation of burnout, this frequently translates into intropunitive aggression whereby some vocation directors gain an average of ten to thirty pounds a year; others convert their cynicism into increased alcohol and drug consumption. A frequent complaint of vocation directors is the pain of alienation they experience from the very groups they represent. Erratic s~hedules, travel, and workshop demands can preclude regular contact with their base group for prayers, meals, and recreation. Praying and eating alone can be lonely experiences, so vocation directoi's may seek support else-where. Sometimes they request a transfer to another community or diocese; sometimes they look outside their congregations for their primary support networks. In either case, they become increasingly disenchanted with their communities and .their work, all of which contributes to the high attrition rate reported above. Another source of alienation from base congregation and diocesan groups is the updated education most vocation directors receive. As fre- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 205 quent participants in workshops, conferences, and regional meetings, voca-tion directors are exposed to the most recent theorizing and research in issues pertinent to religious life. They hear the latest on theological and psychological implications for richer ministerial actualization, and they are eager to implement these insights in their own communities. The base groups, not having been similarly exposed, are often confused over these "newfangled ideas" which seem to come as a shot in the dark. "After all," they reason, "this person is seldom with us. She or he is out and about, breezes in for a day or two, and expects us to change overnight without being an active member in the change process." Mutual recrimina-tions ensue; vocation directors perceive their base groups as closed to new ideas while base group members perceive vocation directors as free-wheeling individuals with their own cars, budgets, and schedules, and who enjoy the luxury of travel and trouble shooting. These conflicts play themselves out as a painful push-pull between the directors' pleas for inno-vation and the group members' refusal to budge. Vocation directors may then conclude that they can no longer, in honesty, represent their com-munities, which they have come to view as narrow-minded and static. Another source of personal frustration and community alienation for vocation directors is the intangibility of results in vocation ministry. Many congregations and seminaries stress the importance of quality candidates, yet when yearly evaluations roll around, actual "body count" seems to loom larger than quality control. Vocation directors have been known to invest enormous amounts of time and energy in candidates who, through such intense interaction, learn that ministry is not their authentic vocation. These individuals do not show up on "body count" charts, and vocation directors again find themselves trying to justify themselves as "really doing their jobs." Candidates who opt out of niinisterial pursuits have truly been ministered to. Yet how to account for such ministry is a dilemma faced by all vocation directors. ,~ Another problem reported by vocation directors is the feeling of "going crazy." Not unique to vocation directors, this symptom is fre-quently accompanied by the fragmentation experienced during normal, predictable, adult-development transitions. A person going through midlife transition while engaging in vocation ministry may feel that life has become too much to bear. Unable to differentiate ministerial issues from developmental issues, vocation directors can come to the premature and often erroneous conclusion that their work is the sole source of all their problems. Further compounding the situation is their perceived alien-ation from community, which leads vocation directors to believe that they cannot honestly voice their concerns to their brothers and sisters. 206 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 Taken together, these hazards can leave vocation directors feeling lonely and alone. Feeling alienafed, angry, and perhaps personally inade-quate, vocation directors are ripe for relational and sexual problems. Warning Signs There are many signs indicating that vocation directors are in rela-iional or sexual jeopardy. The following represent a compilation of several voiced by religious and diocesan vocation directors over the past few years. "Using relationships" can suggest poor sexual integration. This means viewing people as means to an end rather than ends in themselves. This occurs when directors approach others for what they can offer or do for them." Referring to others by title ratherthan by name--"my secre-tary," "my candidate," "my brother priest," "my sisters in community"--all are examples; they imply either ownership and/or dis-tance. The personal element is missing, suggesting that others' functions and/or commodities are more important than their persons. Some directors are plagued by pervasive anger, another signal of distorted sexual integration. They find everyone and everything upsetting, behaving as seething cauldrons of discontent. Their inability to enjoy life, to derive pleasure from people or activities, points directly to a lack of personal integration, which leads to impoverished sexual and spiritual expression. The challenge for these individuals is to identify the sources of their anger and to do what they can to rectify the situation rather than to target others inappropriately. Any increase in indulgence signals danger. Most people probably think of alcohol, drugs, or food in this regard, ,but they would be simplistic to end their list with these. Any compulsive indulgence is a warn-ing: compulsive exercise, compulsive visiting, compulsive TV viewing, and compulsive reading are a few examples. These behaviors represent a struggle to impose external controls which, individuals hope, will com-pensate for internal chaos. It is the internal fragmentation that threatens healthy integration, not the lack of food, exercise, or reading in their lives when people carry these activities to extremes. Another warning sign is preoccupation with others' relationships. These people seem to be perpetually immersed in somebody else's sexual/ relational lives. Most often the targets of their concern are family mem-bers~ and friends outside of the primary community or diocesan base group. Living vicariously through others will never substitute for living authentically through personal relationships, yet these people would prefer relationship-atka-distance to 15ersonal risk. They seem to be inter- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 207 ested in relationship, yet they live divorced from relationship. Further-more, by attending to those outside of the base community or group, these women and men are avoiding their obligations of presence to and relationship within their primary commitment arena. Curiosity focused almost exclusively on others' sexual behaviors is a clear indication of unresolved personal sexual issues. Vocation directors must be especially vigilant in this by observing and monitoring the kinds of topics and questions that seem to demand their greatest energies. Does the conversation always seem to turn to sex? Are dates reviewed in minute detail? Are sexual histories more detailed than educational or family histories? Affirmative responses to any of these suggest that the vocation directors, more than the candidates, may have sexual problems. It is possible that directors are projecting their own needs and fantasies onto the candidates. A very obvious warning sign is a preoccupation with overtly sexual material. Increased viewing of x-rated films, compulsive reading and/or collecting of pornographic literature, and frequenting of strip bars may reveal unresolved sexual and relational tensions. Here, the problem is not so much one of the preoccupation itself as what it signifies. Marked changes in affectional displays, either noticeable reductions or increases, can be symptomatic of sexual disintegration. Normally affectionate people who become stand-offish, or normally distant people who suddenly need to touch whomever they are talking with,'are sending out pleas for help. In effect, they are demonstrating current discomfort with themselves and are revealing this through their behavior. .In all of these, people have failed to integrate or are struggling to rede-fine their sexual identities. As happens when individuals are agitated, they tend to look to others and the environment first as the possible source of or solution to their difficulties. Until the inner source or solution is dis-covered, these individuals are doomed to look for answers in all the wrong places, frus~trating themselves and others in the process. Healthy sexuality is a personal responsibility and privilege. Developing Healthy Sexuality The fii'st step toward h.ealthy sexual integration is education. People need to learn the basics of biology and human sexual response so they can make informed decisions about their personal sexuality. People in our society too often grew up in a culture where sexual myths outweighed facts, generating fear and inco .mplete information. Many women and men continue to function out of adolescent fears and fantasies developed when they learned half the sexual stor3) from friends who had, at best, about 201~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 one-tenth of the total plot. The sad tragedy is that many women and men religious do not know how to read their own body responses when in intense or angering or sexual situations. Simple, straightforward informa-tion is an available corrective. A sad reality is that men, more than women, are reluiztant to seek solid sexual education. Current research sug-gests that this is because men in our culture have been raised to believe that they must be sexually knowledgeable, and to seek information wo(ild be to violate their masculine image. Credible vocation directors, like all religious and priests, cannot afford to perpetuate that stereotype. Personal sexual evaluation is the next step toward healthy sexual integration. Armed with valid biological and sexual data, women and men must then assess their personal sexual identities. They must ask them-selves, "How comfortable am I with my own sexuality? What does it mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man? Do I know when I am sexually aroused, and what can I do about it within the bounds of my public celibate stance? What is my definition of relationship, and where does affection and/or sexual expression apply?" The answers to these and related questions must come from within. Opinions and text-books can guide reflection, but personal response is essential. Along with personal sexual evaluation is the challenge to develop s6me understanding of personal sexual orientations, whether they be ambisexual, homosexual/lesbian, or heterosexual. Since sexuality is con-stantly in process, so also will be individuals' assessment of their identities, but this does not preclude the need to think about and accept where they find themselves at this time in their process. Developing and evaluating personal philosophies of celibacy, sexuality, and intimacy are prerequisites to healthy sexual integration. People must hold themselves accountable to some code of sexual moral-ity. Too many people employ too much energy reacting to and refuting others' definitions of sexual

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 15.2 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; MARCH ]5', 1956 VOLUME XV NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME XV FEBRUARY, 1956 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS MOTHER CORNELIA CONNELLY--Mother Mary Eleanor, S.H.C.J.57 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE-~--Bernard Leeming, S.J .6.9. SUMMER SESSIONS . 90 SISTERS' RETREATS--II--Thomas Dubay, S.M .9.1. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 9. Entrance Fee for Postulants and Novices . 97 10. Residen~ Chaplain as Confessor . 98 11. Legal Protection Against Remuneration for Services . . . 99 12, Correspondence with the Vicar Also Exempt .100 13. Washing of Purificators, Palls, and Corporals ., . .: . . . :. 101 14. New Rubrics for Little Office of the B.V.M .1.0.1 15. Sending Letters to Superior General .102 16. The Meaning of a Plus Book . 102 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 103 CATHOLIC ALMANAC, 1956 . 112 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 112 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1956. Vol. XV, 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 approbation. Entered as second class matter, 2anuary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ell~d, S.3., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Henry Willmerlng, S.3. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Copyright,'1956, by Reoieto for Religious. Permission is hereby granted for quo-tations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the ahthor Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a .copy. Printed in U. S. A~ Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. The Myst:ici m of Obedience Bernard keeming, S.J. ALL great things are simple. God is great and God is simple. If we are united with God's will, we are uiaited with God,. because God's will is" God. And if we are united with God, we are united with F~ither, Son, and Holy Ghost; for the Trinity is simple also. Obedience is a great thing and obedience is simple. "If you love me, ke~p my commandments" (John 14: 15). If you wish to be perfect, just~ do as y~u are told. "He that keepeth my commandments, is he th~at loveth me, and he that loveth me, ~hall be loved of my Father, and I will love him and will manifest myself to him" (John 14:2.1). In obedience we truly receive a revelation of Christ. St. Teresa gives several rexamples Qf what she thought sim-plicity or ":innocenc'e" in obediende. At Avila, she, says, "One thing I remember, which is this: once'in the refectory we had cucumbers given us'for our portions, and to me a very small one, "rotten within. Pretending not to l£e aware of. thi), I called a sister, one of the most able and sensible in the h'ouse, and, to try her'obedi-, ?nce, told her to go and plant it in a .little garden we had. She asked me Whether it was to be planted endways or sideways. I told her sideways, She went and planted it, without thinking that it could not possibly fail to die. The. fact that she was acting under obedi-ence made her natural reason blind, so that she believed that what she did was perfectly right" i( Foundations, ed. Lewis, p. 6). And, probably at Toledo or Mailagon, she narrates: "To a prioress came a nun, and showed her a very large worm, saying, 'Look how beautiful it is!' The prioress in jest replied 'Then go and eat it,' She went and fried it. The Cook asked her why she fried a worm, and she answered, 'To eat ;it,' and would have done so. Thus thro,ugh a great carelessness of that prioress that nun might have done herself much barni" (ibid., p. 161)." For my own part, fear I wonder if the two nuns in question were quite so simple as St, _Teresa imagined they were! However, not to delay on planting cucumbers or frying worms, there are four considerations we make about obedience which show that there is a great mystery in it, and a great reality' Of union with God. , 69 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious 1. Our Saviour's obedience to His Father reveals to us some-thing of the eternal relations of the Blessed Trinity. 2. Through obedience we attain union with Christ and with His Father in the Holy Ghost. 3. Our Saviour's obedience sums up the mystery of the Re-demption of mankind. 4. Through obedience likewise we "cooperate with Christ, in a true sense make one with Christ, in His redeeming and saving mlSslon. CHRIST'S OBEDIENCE AND THE BLESSED TRINITY Nothing is dearer in the Gospels than that Christ is one with the Father in understanding, willir~g, accomplishing, and in very being. Christ's teaching was at once His own, and yet in a sense, not His own but the Father's: "My doctrine is not mine, but His who sent me" (John 7:16), that is, the teaching is not Christ's alone, but'equally the Father's: it is not' Christ's as separated from God. "He who sent me is true, and the things I have heard of Him, these same I speak in the world . I do nothing of m;fself, but as the Father has taught me, these things I speak" (John 8:26, 28). Even the Father does not judge alone: "Neither doth the Father judge any man, but hath given all judgment to the Son" (John 5:22); and yet the Father does judge with the Son: "Arid if I do judge, my judgment is true: because I am not alone,but I and the .Father that sent me" (John 8:16). Hence it is that acceptance of Christ is acceptance of the Father: "He that believeth in me, doth not believe in me, but in him that sent me . I have not spoken of myself; but the Father who sent me, he gave me com-mandment what I should say and what I should speak" (John 12: 44, 49). Incidentally, the same is true of the Hol~ Ghost: He, too, "shall not speak of himself: but what things soever be shall hear, he Shall speak . . . he shall glorify me, because he shall receive of mine" (John 16:13). Only the Father has knowledge without origin; the Sod and the Holy Ghost bare the same identical knowledge, but from the Father. In the same way, Christ says that He did not come to do His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him. None can doubt that Christ's will was for the salvdtion of men: "I am~ the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep . . . therefore doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life 7O March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE that I may tak~ it again" (dohn 10:il, 17). And yet He says: "I came down from heaven not to do my own w, ill, but the will of Him that sent me" (3ohn 6:38 andcf, v. 30). The heart of Christ is not more compassionate nor more tender than the heart of His Father: "For God so loved the world, as to give His only begotten Son: that whosoever believeth in him,' may not perish, but may have life everlasting" (John 3:16). The will of the Father and the will of the Son for the salvation of the world is the same, "for God sent not his "Son into the world, to judge the world, but that the world might be saved by, him" (John 3:17). This unity of will is touchingly manifest.on the death of Lazarus. Jesus had wept, "and the Jews said, "Behold bow be loved him." And when the stone was removed, lifting up his eyes, He said: "Father, I give thanks that thou hast heard me. And I know that thou hearest me always; but because of the people who stand about I have said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me." Then He cal.led the dead man out of the tomb. He knew His Father's will was to do what He wished. They willed the same, and Christ's human will was perfectly in accord with His Father's divine will. Christ's power is the same as His Father's. "The Son cannot do anything of Himself, but what he seeth the Father doing: for what things so ever he doth, these the Son Mso doth in like man-ner. For as the Father raiseth up the dead and giveth life: so also the Son giveth life to whom he will" (John 5:20). "If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not" (John 10:37). The works, of course, referred pri'marily to the miracles: stilling the storm, feeding the five thousand, giving sight to the blind man, raising Lazarus from the dead;, but they include all that Christ did. "Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me? The words that I speak to you, I speak not of myself. But the Father who abideth in ,me, he doth His own works" (John 14:10). But the unity of power is most clearly showia when Christ speaks of protecting His sheep: He knows His sheep and they follow Him and He will give them life everlasting. "No man shall pluck them out of my hand." Whence this absolute confi-dence that no created power can steal away His sheep? "No one can snatch them out of the hand of my Father. I and the Father are one" (John 10:29, 30). His power is the same as His Father's All that Christ'has is given. Him by the Father; and the Father holds nothing back from the Son, not even His own life. His dis- 7.1 BERNARD LEEMING Review /:or Religious ciples wh~ weke,faithful to Him were given Him by His Father: "Thine they were, and to me thou gavest them" (John 17:6). deed, all the Father has, is the Son's: "All my things are thine, and thine are mine" (John 17:1Q). "The Father loveth the Son, and he hath given all things into his hand;' (John 3:35). And . before the washing of the feet, perhaps surprisingly~ St. John tells us: "Knowing that the Father had given him all things into 'his hands, and that he cache from God and goeth to God: he "riseth Trom sup-per, and layeth aside his garments, and having .taken a ,towel, girded himself'" and put the water into a basin and began to wa~sh ¯ ,the feet of the disciples (John 13:3 ff.). His knowledge that all He had was of the Father is perhaps the very reason why He wished to inculcate humility; since the Father kept back nothing from Him, He in turn wished to give His service and to show that such humble service is a reflection of the very life of God. But the Father gives even His own life: "As the F'ather hath life in himself, so be bath given to the Son also to have life in himself" (John 5:26). "The living Father has sent me and I live by the Father" (John 6:58). "Philip, he that seeth me, seeth the Father also. How sayeth thou, Shew us the Father? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me?" (John 14:9, 10.) Hence it is that Christ is the Utterance of God (John 1:1), the Image of God (II Cor. 4:4), the Radiance of God's splendour and the very expression of His being (Heb. 1;3), the Light of God (John 1:9), the Way to God: "No man cometh to the Father but by me" (John 14:6). Yet in spite of this perfect equality, the Son is sent by His Father, and receives commands from His Father. "Do you say of him whom the Father. hath sanctified and sent into the world: Thou blasphemest, because I said, I am the Son of God?" (John 10:36.) "Thou hast sent me into the world" (John 17:18). After the conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well, the apostles urged Him to eat: "But he said to them: I have meat to eat; which you know not. The disciples therefore 'said one to an-other: Hath any man brought him to eat? Jesus said to them: M_y meat is to do the will of him that sent me, that~I may perfect his work"' (John 4:32-35). His very life, His sustenance and strength consisted in d, oing His Father's will and work. The Father even commands Him; at the very end of the discourse about the Good Shepherd, our Lbrd said: "This commandment have I re- March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE ceived bf my father," (John 10:18), and the commandmbnt ap-pears to be that He should be the Good Shepherd, who lays down His life for His sheep. Just before going, to Gethsemani, He said: "But that the world may know that I love the Father, and as the Father hath given me commandment, so do I: Arise let us go hence" (John 14:31). And Of his whole sojourn in the. world, at the end He said: "I have glorified thee on the earth; I have finished the work which thou gav, est me.to do" (John 7:4). Now, of course, the giving of a command can only be because Christ is man; and. yet the commandment, like the sending, reflects the eternal relation between Father and Son. It is the Son who is sent, not the Father: not sent as a servant by a master, nor even as a king might be sent to war by advisers and counsellors; but sent somewhat as a flower is sent forth by a .plant. The temporafl sending, with its resultant presenc,e in a different way--f.6r Christ as God is present everywhere, but as man only in Palestine--re-flects the eternal relation of origin from the Father (St. Thomas, Summa, 1, Q. 43,-a.1). The Father could not be sent, because He is Father; and, although all that He has is the Son's, neverthe- .less that "all He has" and even the divine being is the Son's, al-ways with the relationship of originating from the Father. As of the sending, so too of 'the obedience. That too arises naturally from the eternal relationsh'ip between Father and Son; for as the 'Son originates from the Father in very being, so too do all His thinking and His willing. What our Lord wanted was what or-iginated in the Father, and He could not want anything whatever' which did not originate in the Father. Thus His obedience reflects his eternal relationship to ,the Father and is a manifestation to us of that. mysterious unity of being and nature which yet admits distinctive of persons. Through our Lord's unity with God by obedience in his incarnate life, we are led on to know his unitY with God in His divine life. , OUR OBEDIENCE AND OUR SHARE IN THE LIFE OF GOD Very often obedience is thought of as a matter of our owrl effort, something we must do, and do with striving and resolution. We must, indeed; nevertheless, obedience is a gift of God. As the Father gave all things to His Son," even t6 having absolutely the same will, so, too, if we are to have absolutely the same will as our Father and as Christ, we must receive it of the Father, through the Son, and in the Holy Ghost. For to have the same will "as God 73 BERNARD LEEMING Reoiew for Religious means that we become sharers in God's nature, as Christ our Lord truly was God and showed it by doing the works of His Father, -while yet remaining a distinct person. There was unity of nature, ot: doing and accomplishing: they willed absolutely the same and tl~is willing the same reflected the unity of being which was theirs. So too our, coming to bare the same will as God can only arise from a unity of being. God's will" IS Himself: He does not change, to-day wanting one thing, tomorrow another; but from all eternity He is His will; and, 'though in time His will is accomplished in different acts, those acts only reflect the will that was unchanging from eternity and conform the changing to the Eternal. "The Father who abidetb in me, He dotb the works" can become true of us, likewise, but only because of the gift of God of Himself, the gift of His abiding in us. And that God should abide in us, surely that is His free gift to us, which no effort of our own could at-tain and no prayer of ours--apart from His desire told to us-- could aspire to ask. God is God and man is man, but His surpass-ing gift is that we should truly become sharers in the divine nature (II Peter 1:4) and hence sharers in His divine will, sent forth from Him as Son and Holy Ghost are sen,t forth, yet completely and utterly one with Him always. This is one of the greatest gifts that God gives us in our vo-cation as religious, to enable us~ to share in that complete self-giv-ing which is the life of the Blessed Trinity, to be enabled to give to Him our last self-possession, our own will and judgment, and by giving it to Him, to receive it back from Him glorious, and divinized,.part even of Himself. "And the glory which thou hast given me, I have given to them; that they may be one, as we also are one: I in them, and thou in me; that they may be made perfect in one" ~Jobn 17:23). "To leave the world and give up exterior pos-sessions," says St. Gregory, "is possibly easy to some; but for a man to give up himself, to immolate what is most precious to him by.surrendering his entire liberty is a much more arduous task; to forsake what one has is a small thing: to forsake what one is, that is the supreme gift" (Horn. 32, MPL 76 col. 1233). And it isthe supreme gift, because it most reflects the life of the Blessed Trinity. Our obedience is grounded upon faith. Military obedience-- aport from the subjective motive of individuals--is based upon practical necessity and utility: someone must decide, and there is not. time to explain the reasons for the decision to each soldieL Without obedience, there would be confusion and defeat. Never- 74 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE theless, military obedience has its limits. Of certain soldiers who refused to obey it was said that "they were to~ intelligent to get themselves killed just to prove that some general was a fool." That is one reason why General M~ntgomery in his book on generalship declares that "it is part of the art of command to inspire and main-tain confidence in the soldiers, and why in his battles he explained a great deal of his plans to the soldiers. But religious obedience has a different basis. It is true that obedience does make for efficient work, for order, for unity. But this is not the reason ultimately why religious obey. We obey because we belieoe, believe that it is God who speaks to us in the person of our superior, and that, consequently, when we do the superior's will, we do God's will and hence are united to God. In this sense, obedience is not a means to an end; it is an end in itself; for by faith we believe that in uniting ourselves to the superior's will we unite ourselves to God's own will, and unity with God is not a means to anything else. This, naturally, supposes that we obey from love of God, git)ir~q ourselves to God in obedience; and thus the utility of doing what we are told to do does not enter in; whatever the effect of what we do, here and now by obeying I am united to God; and, in the absolutely ultimate result, the effect must be good, no matter what the immediate effects. Obedience is like faith. Often, though we know it is fully reasonable to believe, the obscurity of faith comes home to us: hoto can it be that Christ is present beneath the appearances of a wafer? How can a good God permit so many evils? Neverthless, this ob-scurity does not shake our faith, though it may afflict the imagina-tion and the power of reasoning. We know that He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and that His dwelling is in unapproach-able light; no human eye has ever seen Him or can ever see Him (I Tim. 6:16). We know that "my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways: for as the heavens are ex-alted above the earth, so are my ways exalted above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts" (Isaias 4:8, 9). Nothing could shake our faith, because it is God whom we believe. Now, similarly, our obedience like our faith involves obscurity. How could God be represented by one so ignorant, prejudiced, and unlikable? How could God ratify so stupid a policy, one based on complete ignor-ance of the conditions? How can God permit this situation to con-tinue, when His own interests are at stake? Such obscurities may indeed trouble our imaginations and even our powers of reasoning; 5 'BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religio-s nevertheless they cannot shake the deep conviction that in obeying this superior, in this policy, in this mariner of proceeding, I am obeying God Himself; I am doing His will, arid notthe ignorant, stupid, or prejudiced will of any creature. My obedience rests on the faith that believes God does act thro,ugh creatures, that He is immanent to creatures and-not afar off. St. Margaret Mary had revelations from our Lord, revelations approved by the Church afterwards; and yet our Lord said to her that she should prefer th'e will of her superiors to a'fly command of His. W~e' look with ey,es of faith, not upon a weak creature, but upon the infinitely holy and infinitely wise God of all consolation, who acts in and through the creature. Blessed Claude de la Colombi~re once wrote: "A Superior may 'govern badly, but it is impossible that G~d should not govern you well by means of him. My dear Sister, let that be your deepest conviction. For if you do not', base yourself firmly on this prin-ciply, you are losing your time in religion: for your whole life is nothing but obedience, arid this obedience.is meritless unless offered to God in the person whom He has put in place of Himself. A:nd we certainly do not turn our gaze on God when we undertak'e to judge, examine and above all to condemn what is commanded us. When it is the Holy Ghost who possesses us, He inspires us with the simplicity of a child who finds everything good and everything reasonable; or. if you prefer, with a divine prudence which discov-ers God in everything,' and recogmzes Him in. all those who rep-resent Him, even in those who are poorest in virtue and in natural and supernatural qualities." (Oeut;res, VII, 109-10, 1853 ed.) = ,In those words Blessed Claude expressed part of the gift of obedience: the inspiration of the Holy Ghost to make us simple, to give us supernatural prudence to see God truly in superiors. St. Catherine of Siena, in her delightful Dialogue ot~ Obedience (trans-lated by Algar Thorold). insists greatly on faith being the means of obedience and teaches likewise that we may progress in obedi-ence. God speaks and says to her: "Now I wish thee to see and know this most excellent virtue in that humble and immaculate Lamb, and the source whence it proceeds. What caused the great obedience of the Word? The love which He had for My honour and your salvatiofi. Whence proceeded this love? From the clear vision with which His soul saw the divine essence and the eternal Trinity, thus always looking on Me, the eternal G6d. His fidelity obtained this vision for Him, and most perfectly, ~ which vision you 76 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE imperfectly enjoy by th~ light,of holy faith" (Ch. 135). And thig vision both comes through obedience and fosters obedience. "Does the weight of obedience," she asks, "cause the obedient man pain? No, for he has trampled on his own will and does not care to ex-amine or, judge the will of his superior, for with the light of faith he sees My will !in him, believing truly that My clemency causes him to dommand according to the needs of his subject's sal-vation" (Ch. 140). "Obedience gives a !ight in the soul, which shows whether she is faithful to Me and her order and superior, in which light of holy faith she forgets hersel£; for by the obedience which she has ac-quired through the light of faith, she shows that her will is dead' to its own feeling, and seeks the advantage of others and not her own. Just as the disobedient man who examines the will, of his superior, may ju.dge~it according to his own low opinion and dark-ened knowled~ge instead of judging his own perverse will which' gives him death, the truly obedient man, illumined by faith, judge's ~the will of his superior to be good, and therefore does not examine it, but inclines his bead and nourishes his soul with the odour of true and holy obedience. And this virtue increases in the soul in proportion to the shinin~.l of the light of fhith, with which the soul knows herself, and Me, whom she loves, and humbles her-self; and the more she loves Me and humbles herself, the more obedient she becomes, for, obedience, and her sister patience prove whether the soul is in truth Clothed with the nuptial garment of charity, which is necessary to enter into eternal life" (Cb. 44). St. Teresa of Avila also declares that obedience is something like a treasure in a mine, Which can only be. dug out gradually and progressively. Speaking of the treasure of complete union with God, she says: "Bellevue me, then there is no better way of finding this treasure than that of toiling and digging so as to draw it forth from the mine of obedience; for the more we dig the more we shall find, and the more we ,subject ourselves to men, having no other will but that of those who are over us, the more we shall master our will so as to conform it to the will of God:' (Foundations, Ch. 5).,~ St. Ignatius of ~oyola puts three degrees of obedience: the first, when wi actually do what we are c6mmanded; the second, when wedo it willingly; and the third, when we submt.t our understandL ing to the superior's and come to have the,lsame judgment as bis: Now these are not necessarily stages through iwhich we hi~ve to pass, 77 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious though indeed they.may be kinds of stages through which we pass; but they clearly indicate divisions into which obedience may fall. It is possible to do what we are ordered but to rebel interiorly, or even to grumble and complain and yet carry out the order. It is possible also to cajole a superior into agreement with what we want. This is indeed a certain kind of obedience. Then there_is willingness ,in obedience: to do the thing promptly, perseveringly, and putting our best efforts into it to make it suc'ceed. But the highest degree is' had when we agree with the superior's mind and have the same view and ~outlook on the thing aS he has. It is clear that this last most closely approaches to the obedience of'Christ to His Father: His docffine, was not His own, but His Father's. He judges with the Father; He does not speak of Himself, but as the Father gives Him to speak; and He is the very word of the Father, the expression of the Father, the very mind of the Father: He and His Father are one. If the superior represents God for us, then no lower standard than our Lord's obedience to His Father can content us. How is it possible to be united in mind with a superior who is stupid," unwise, and imprudent in his commands? Christ could obey His Father absolutely because His Father was absolute truth; absolute wisdom; but how can we conform our minds to one who is by no means absolute truth or wisdom? The answer is that where the superior commands, we unite our wills and minds with his exactly insofar as he commands, not necessarily insofar as his command is designed to attain a particu-lar purpose. The purpose of the command is not part of the com-mand. For instance, a provincial superior may order a local superior to be indulgent, or to be severe, with a particular s, ubject. The local superior may on natural' grounds be convinced that i.ndulgence, or severity, is injurious to the subject, that the provincial superior is mistaken in his estimate of the method required. It is here, partly, that the mystery enters; for the theory of obedience holds that the judgment about success or failure is irrelevant: who can tell what, in God's eyes, is success or failure? The order must be obeyed, and in the spirit, with trust in God's over-riding providence: He will bless the obedience, although we cannot see how. For me, I see Christ in the command and that is enough. What does it matter, in the last analysis, about the "success" or "failure" of the policy? God must look to that; and I can leave it to Him, doir~g so the ¯ more trustfully the less I see how He can draw good out of it. 78 March, 1956 THE ~MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE How do we progress in obedience~? Ver~y gener1a1 y at the be, ginning of our religigus life obedience on theI whole is not difficult; there may be strange customs, repugnances to be overcome in ac-commodating ourselves to different points of the Rule. But on the whole, obedience is likely to be taken more or less for granted as part of the religious regime. Nevertheless, sooner or later trials are likely to arise. A superior may not understand us, ol may dis-approve of us; and then obedience can be a very arid affair indeed. There is small comfort in it; and, if one takes literally the superior for God, one is inclined to imagine that a superior's disapproval means God's disapproval. This is not, of'course, strictly irue; for a superior is not judge of our spiritual state, but takes the place of God in telling us what to do. Nevertheless, a superior's disapproval may be a searing trial, especially for some characters; and it is then that one must walk by blind faith, hoping against hope, as it were, that God will bring all right, possessing our soul in patience and bending our minds and wills as best we can. This may be only a purifying trial: to wean us from our purely natural obedience, to prevent us thinking obedience is within our own natural power. Then we can only be faithful, be patient, andtrust God: believing still that He is acting in the superior. But, if we are faithful, the light will surely break through: there can come a certain sense of reverence for God, even in this superior: a sense that we are really held captive by God, and so a certain peace in obeying which is not upset by surges of feeling, whether of depression or of irritation or of rebellion. God is there in spit~ of everything; and somehow fears begin to vanish: in sick-ness or in.health, in success or failure: "For I know whom I have believed, and I am certain that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him, against that day" (II Tim. 1:12). Our trans-formation into Christ proceeds; and His obedience begins to seem a reality to us, and self-will, self-settlement, self-judgment begin to fade away. The memory, the imagination, and even the reason-ing powers may play tricks; but the calm conviction remains that it is good for me to cleave to the Lord, and that at the head of my book it is written that I should do Thy Will, O God. And here it may be well to return to another aspect of Christ's obedience; an aspect which shows how obedience made Him our °saving Victim, and how obedience will unite us to Him in a u~nion truly trarisforming. , 79 BERNARD LEEMING Reoiew for Religio'us CHRIST'S OBEDIENCE AND.THE REDEMPTION OF MANKIND Our Saviour's obedience was neither negative nor passive; He did not merely abstain from forbidden things, nor-did He, as it were, merely wait on events and allow Himself to be governed' by them. It w, as not the case that He came to endure death, and in consequence merely waited for the Jews to come and kill ,Him. On the contrary, His obedience was positive and active. 'He knew in-deed the inevitable end, but He knew that end was to come only as'a consequence of His active obedience to His Father's command to be the Good Sh.epherd. He journeyed from Nazareth to Caphar-nauru through Galilee, up to Cesarea Philippi, nearer Damascus than Jerusalem, and to Bethsaida, and through Sar;aaria, and to Jericho and Jerusalem, probably more than once. Pharisees were attracted to him from every town of Galilee, Judea, and Jerusalem (Luke 5:17). He gathered twelve apostles and seventy-two d~isciples and instructed them. He ,taught the people in the synagogues, in the tqwns, in the fields, on the mountain sides, by the lake sides, His energy and His force, the power he had, roused the fear of thd chief priests and the Jews, and they said: "Do you" see that we preva, il nothing? behold the whole world is gone after him" (John 12:19). He rebuked their hypocrisy fiercely and fearlessly. He drove the buyers and sellers from the temple, "and the disciples remembered that it was written 'The zeal of thy house hath eaten meoUP' " (John 2:17). The Jews put spies to report His words, and to lay traps for Him (Luke 20:19-20). "This command 'have I received'frdm my F'athe~," a command to spread the truth and the charit,y of His Father, even if in ful-filling that command He was to provoke the enmi'ty of the wicked and to draw down death unto Himself. About ,this obedience of Christ, St. Thomas puts the objection: ,"The will of God is not for the death Of ,men, even of sinners, but rather for their life, as Ezechiel ~ays:'I will not the death ofthe sinner but tl~at he should b~ converted and live. Much less then could it have been thd will of God the Father that the most perfect of .all men should be sub-jected to death." And ~he answers: "Although the will of God is 'not for the death of any man, nevertheless God-wills the virtue by which a. man bravely endures death and from charity exposes him-self to the peril of death. And in this.sense was the will of God for the death of Christ, in as much as Christ incurred the risk of death from charity and bravely endured death" (Contra Gentiles, 4, 55, ad 15). "As the Father has given me commandment, so 80 (¢larch, 1956 THE MYSTIC.ISM OF ~)BEDIENCE do I." Christ incurred the risk of death-not by passivity,' but by an activity which provoked opposition, by an actiVity which upset the whole of 3udaea and Palestine. Thus our Lord's obedience was vibrant with energy and was most complete.ly in accord with the mind and intentions and desire of His Father. He and the Father were one, in very being, though not in person; and when the Son became man among men there was One who gave to the most loving God the rndst energetic and loving service and praise, and gave it not on.ly for God's sake, but. for man's sake. It was by His obedience that Christ redeemed the world: "for as by the disobedience of one man," says St. Paul, "th~ many were made sinners; so also by the obedience of one, the many shall be made just" (Rom. 5:19). Surely a great mystery, that the destiny of us all should be so linked with the obedience or dis-obedience of two men: a mystery reflected in minor degree by the mysterious fact that we are all to some degree dependent upon one another in so many ways. It was because of obedience that Christ received the name Jesus. St. Paul tells us" that God in his fore-knowledge of the obedience unto death had given Him the name above all names (Phil. 2:8, 9).; and the angel ordered St.Joseph "and thou shalt call Hi~ name Jesus, ~for He shall save his people from their sins" (Matt. 1:21). Because He was obedient unto death, therefore He has that name above all names: Jesus the obedi-ent, Jesus the Saviour. And because of that same obedience He is a priest forever. Our redemption was accomplished by the sacrifice of Christ, pr.ecisely because that sacrifice was an expression of the 'most ab-solute submission of the will of the Incarnate Son of God to the will of God. St. paul puts it in chapter ten of his letter to the Hebrews: "For it is impossible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sin. Hence he saith When entering into the world: Sacrifice and offering thou hast not desired. But thou hast pierced ~ars for me (a body thou hast prepared for ine). In holocausts and sin-offerings thou hast taken no pleasure: Then I said: Behold I am come (In the volume so it is written of me) To do, O God, thy will. In virtue of this 'will' we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus once for all" (Heb. 10:4 ff., Boylan's, transla-tion in the Westminster versiorl). The line quoted by St. Paul from Ps. 39: "thou has pierced ears for me" is given thus in the Hebrew and in the Douay: but St. Paul probably quoted from the Septuagint. The piercing of ears 81 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religiod's means the power of listening to God and hence of obeying Him. We find the same usage in English. Children are told by their mothers, "You will not listen to me"--you will not accept my advice nor do what I want; and children in turn think it wrong "not to listen .to me muther." What pleased God in Christ was the complete acceptance of His divine will: the highest offering to God is the offering of the whole b~ing to do His will; and, because it was a divine Person who made that offering with the uttermost perfec-tion as a man on earth, and made it for our sakes, to fulfill God's will that we might be .sanctified, we therefore all receive the power of being made holy through the sacrifice of Christ. There is yet another m~stery in this obedience of Christ: al-though He was God's own Son and knew perfectly His Father's will and loved that will, nevertheless He feels repugnance in the actual carrying of it into effect. One might perhaps imagine that' one so infinitely holy as our Lord would be so lifted up that there would be no feeling of recoil or repugnance from whatever His loving Father willed. Yet we know it was not so. When He was riding to Jerusalem just before the last Passover, certain Gr.eeks wanted to see Him, and He spoke of the underlying mystery of His life and death: "Unless the grain of wheat falling into the ground die, itself remaineth alone. But if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it, and he that hateth his life in this world, keepeth it unto life eternal" and then, mys-teriously, "Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I sa.y? Father, save me from this hour. But for this cause I came unto this hour" (John 12:27). How can He pray His Father to save Him from the pain and suffering and death, when it was precisely to endure them that He came? And yet, His very soul is distressed; it is an anticipation of the agony in the garden, when He "began to fear and t6 13e heavy, and he said to them, 'My soul is sorrowful even unto death' . . . and he fell flat on the ground; and he prayed, that.if it might be, the hour might'pass from him. !~nd he sayeth, Abba, Father, all things ar~ possible, to thee: remove this c~halice from me; but. not what I will, but what thou wilt" (Mark 14:33-35). What His Father willed was not to be fulfilled directly between Him and His Father, but through people like Judas, Annas, Caiphas, Pilate, the Jewish mob, and the Roman soldiers; and it means not only physical suffering but denial of justice, denial of a fair bear-ing'of what He had to say, and. to say not so much for Himself 82 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE but for His Father, for God; 'it meant acceptance of that humanly mysterious providence of God which_ permits so much evil. Our Lord was a real man, with all a man's feeling, instincts, natural reactions: His divinity did not derogate in the least fro'm the full-ness of His humanity. Consequently, He experienced the ifistinc-. tive recoil of the feelings against pain and against death; further, even His natural reason and intellectual choice judged that death and rejection were hateful and in themselves to be avoided, and so His prayer was "if it be possible; let this chalice pass." St: Thomas tells us that our Lord prayed so to show us the reality of His human nature and to show that it is permissible, according merely to natural impulses to wish what God does not wish ("ut ostenderet quod homini iicet secundum naturalem affectum aliquid velle quod Deus non vult," Summa, 3, (~.21,a.2). Nevertheless the absolute choice; when all is conside.re.d, goes out straight to God's will, however repugnant to instincts and feeling and merely natural judgment (Summa, 3, Q. 18,a.6), and is in a sense the more united to God's will, because with His human will He ap-proves the instinctive reluctance of human 'nature, is glad to find it hard; and thus He can make the offering .of submission most truly as a man and with the fullness of His manhood. Not, in-deed, that these natural recoils against the horrors of the Passion in any way divided Christ in Himself, or lessened His glorious ac- ¯ ceptance of His Father's will, or blurred in any way the clearness of His vision--as fears and hopes and emotions do in us; never-theless, He felt the difficulties, even mental, just as acutely and more acutely than we could do, just as He could suffer physical pain as we do, and feel it more acutely. St. Paul spea.ks of Christ's obedience in a,way in which per-haps we might hesitate to do; he says: "Christ during his earthly life, offered prayer and entreaty to the God who could .save him from death, not without a piercing cry, not without tears; yet with. such piety as won him a hearing. Son of God though be was, he learned obedience in the school of suffering, and now, his full achievement reached, he wins eternal salvation for all those who render obedience to him" (Heb. 5:7-9, Knox tr.). St. Thomas, in his commentary on this text, makes this ob-jection: "To learn things, presupposes that one is ignorant of them. But Christ from all eternity~ being God, and even a's man from the first instant of His conception knew everything and had the fullness of knowledge. Consequently, since He knew every- 83 BERNARD LEEMING ~ Reoieto for Religious thing, how can it be said that He learned ,things?" . St." Thom, as answers': "There is a double kind of knowledge, the first being simple awhreness of the truth, and in this sense~Christ was ignorant of nothing. But there is also the knowledge begotten of experience, and according to this Paul says 'He learned from what He suffered [or in the school of experience]',' that is by actu-ally °experiencing. And the Apostle speaks thus because he who learns anything must willingly put himself in a position to learn it. Now Christ willingly took to Himself our weakness; and hence Paul says 'he learned obedience,' that is, how hard it is to obey, becauseoHe obeyed in most onerous and difficult matters, even to the death of the cross. And here he shows how difficult it is to attain the good of obedience. Because they who have not experi-enced obedience and have not learned it in difficult matters, believe that to obey is very easy. But in'fact to grasp what obedience really is, one has to learn to obey in difficult affairs, and he who has'not learned by'obedience to be subject, never knows how to command well and be a superior. Christ, therefore, although from eternity he knew by simple awareness what obedience was, nevertheless learned by experience obedience from what He suffered, that is, in. actual difficulties, through suffering and death" (Cornmentartl in Hebrews, ad loc.). But there is yet a greater myster~ here. The prayers of Christ, His tears, His entreaty to God who could save Him from death, these are not merely individual: they are His as head of the body, as forming one with us. He prays, entreats, weeps, ~uffers .for us and with us. S~. Gregory~Nazianzus says that w.hen Christ prayed upon the cross: "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?'" He spoke in the person of all mankind; and adds that this text about learning obedience must be understood in the same way: ':Having taken the nature of a slave, He condescends to enter fully into the life of His fellow-slaves and of slaves generally; and assumes a form different from His own, bearin'g the whole of me and all that I am within Himself, in order that in Himself. He may melt away my lower self, as fire the wax and the sun the morning mists, in order that I, through fusion with Him, may take in exthangeall that is His. Hence in very deed does He honour obedience and make trial of it in suffering. For the mere intention was not enough, just as it is not enough for us, unless we 'carry it out in act. For the act is the proof of the intention. Nor would it be far wrong to" understand that. He experienced our obedience and measured all 84 March, 1956 '~. THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE human things by, His own sufferings, and did so because of ,His affection and love for men: so that He.can estimate our experiences by His own, and reckon by suffering and weakness how much to demand of us and how much to yield to ,our infirmity" (Oratio Theologica 1, n.6; Migne Patres Graeci, 36, col. 109, 112). It was not He alone who was saved from death, but,the whole Of mankin~l who are united to Him, for whom He prayed, for whom He obeyed, "and offered His sacrifice. St. Leo says that the cross was the altar on ~vhich "through that saving victim the of-fering of the whole of ,human nature was a, ccomplished" (Sermo c.3; M.P.L. 54, 324). He ,bears "the whole of me and"all that I am within Himself" and offers His obedience for me to make up for my failures, to transfuse my dull and murky obedience with the radiance of His infinitely glorious obedience; and to* do the same for the, whole of mankind, becoming "hostiam. puram, hostian~ sanctam, bostiam immaculatam'" a sacrifice wholly sincere, holy, immaculate, and hence utterly acceptable to God for all of us. OUR OBEDIENCE AND OUR UNION WITH CHRIST THE SAVIOUR Our Lord is very explicit that "I am the way, the truth and the life. No man cometh to the Father, but by me." .It is only Christ who sends the iSpirit of God (John 16:7) and even the Spirit of God "receiveth of Christ's and shows it to us (John 16 : 15). "And because you are sons God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts'" (Gal. 4:9). "God has sent his only begotten Son into the world that we may live by him" (I John 4:9). There is no way in which we can go to God except in. Christ. There is no right manner of praying which neglects the Incariaate Word, or so tries to dispense with images or use of the imagination 'that-it passes over Jesus of Nazareth. There is no true mysticism save that Which is based upon faith in Jesus Christ. Now our Lord greatly commends obediencd to us. "Whoever shall do "the will of my Father, 'that is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother" (Matt 12:50). Even His own dear~other was dear to Him most of all because she "heard the word of God" and kept it (Luke 9:28). "Fie that bath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me. And he that loveth me shall be lox)ed of my Father: and I will love Jaim': and will manifest myself to him." Our Lord could not make us a greater promise than to be~loved of His-FatheL to be Ioved.by Him, and to receive a manifestation, a re;celation of our Lord" Himself. BERNARD LEEMING Review [or Religious Based~upon these promises, to our Lord, the saints most strongly commend obedience to us'. St. Teresa says: "I believe that since Satan sees there is no road that leads more quickly to the highest perfection than this of obedience, he suggests many difficulties under the colour of some good, and makes it distasteful: let people look well into it, and they will see plainly that I am telling the truth. Wherein lies the highest perfection? It is clear that it does not lie in interior delights, not in great raptures, not in visions, not in the spirit of prophecy, but in the conformity of our will to the will of God, so that there shall be nothing we know He wills that we do not will ourselves with our whole will, and accept the bitter as joyfully as the sweet, knowing it to be His Majesty's will" (Fodndations, ch. 5). The reason for this statement, that our, union with God is in ~vill rather than in any perceptions that belong to our intellectual fac.ulties, seems to be this: anything that we know, we know accord-ing to our o.wn mind; the object known comes into our mind and necessarily to some extent takes on the shape of our mind, and hence shares in the limitations of our mind. The mind assimilates to itself the object known, and in so doing limits the obje'ct in some way. Consequently, we can only know God by means of comparisons, indirectly: in this life we cannot see God directly as He is, because be is too great for our minds to take in. -But the will is different from the intellect in that it does not ~bape the object by drawing the object into itself, but ,rather goes out to the object as it is in itself; the will therefore does not limit the object by its own limitations as the mind do~s. It follows from this, tb_at, although we cannot know God, in this life, exactly as He is, nevertheless we can love God Himself exactly as He is, be-cause our minds can get to God truly ~nd hence our wills can go out to God insofar as He is truly represented in oflr minds, and not insofar as the mind obscures God by imperfect, indirect knowl-edge. I can love a person, even though I do not knov¢ him thor-ougbly: I can know him enough to love him, and it is he himself that I love, and not my own imperfect conception of him. Hence, in this life our union with God is primarily a uni6n of will, although since man is one whole, that union of will reacts upon the intellect and upon all the powers of the soul, and bell~s to greater perception and awareness. One cannot be united to God in will without somehow coming to be aware of that~ fusion of wills and thus coming into almost direct contact with God Him- 86 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE self. St. Catherine of Siena was told that "the truly obedient man , always retains the desire of submission, and that this desire is like an inward refrain of music" (quoted by Marmion from the Dialogue~ on Obedience : Christ the Ideal of the Monk, p. 262). In this way, obedience is really a form of contemplation, simple, easy, and effective; and not wearisome to the bead. "This is what I am or-dered to do. It is God's will for me. I do it. That is God. That is all." Nor is this hindered if our obedience is very active, even if in obedience we must use initiative and ingenuity and resource. It is then that the very powers of the mind are given to God, wl~at intelligence we may have, what force of character, what gift of imagination, even what magnetism we may have to attract others. These are given to God, through the hands of the human beings who represent Him, and used gladly as we are directed~ because there is great security in using all our gifts as the mind of God, represented by a human superior, directs. Nothing could be m6re mistaken than to take the comparisons 9ften used by the saints, of a d~ad body, or an old man's staff, and apply them beyond their real application. They are not used to indicate complete passivity, but to indicate that we make no resistance to being moved from this house to the other, from this post to the other, or, even, that we are content if obedience makes no use of our talents at all. They in-dicate that we are completely dead and nothing but a walking stick as regards our own peculiar ideas when they clash with the su-perior's. Perhaps if the saints bad known of bose pipes, with a strong and full pressure of water in them, they might have used the comparison of a hose pipe which could be turned in this direc-tion or that, made to'give a heavy stream of water or a narrow jet, according as the bands holding it directed. The comparisons mean that the force and power which God may- bare given us is placed utterly in the control of the superior, as representing God; and that by faith we believe that the only good result will come from the union of that force and powe.r with the will of God as interpreted to us by His representative. . Here, too, enters what is called blind obedience. Now to inter-pret blind obedience as unintelligent, stupid obedience would be itself unintelligent and stupid. The more intelligent people are the more they must use their intelligence in order to obey well. The blindness only comes in after all due representations bare been made --and it is part of the duty of obedience to make reasonable repre- BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious sentations, even to make them forcibly on .occasion-- and the su-perior orders us to do something with which our natural reason does not agree, for which we cannot see the reasons or the reason-ableiaess. It is then that we must be carried by an impulse of the will, blind to natural reasons, desirous only of conforming the understanding to the mind of the superior. And mtich can be done in this way: to close our mental ears to contrary reasonings, to look at it from the superior's side, and to make ourselves well af-fected to our superior. We cannot, of course, assent contrary to the known truth; but often the truth about the wisdom of a course of action can be perceived differently according to the antecedent state of mind in which we train ourselves, and according to the way we allow our minds toact. If we have opened our minds to the reve-lation of 6ur Lord beneath the deficiencies of the human agent, then it is easier to see God's will in what may naturally only look like ignorance, prejudice, favouritisrri, or vanity, So often it happens that lack of the spirit of obedience leads to narrow and restricted views. Obedience can and does take the ,long view. God's providence works oddly. Perhaps God sometimes 'wishes a poor superior, an incompetent superior, in order to use them as a lesson for subjects, or perhaps one special subject, a lesson to teach them what to do, and ~hat not to do, when they themselves are superiors! And to oppose that superior, to magnify his defects, to allow feelings to become ruffled, or depression to take possession of the 'spirit--this is Clearly to oppose God Himself, contrary to what we have promised Him." Perhaps God wants a certain 'work to fail, and to fai.1 precisely through our most obedient efforts and strivings, in order'to obtain some greater good of which we cannot be aware. In this sense, it is perfectly true that obedience, although. its proper fruit may seem to be to perfect the will, :nevertheless also perfects the understanding: it gives the understanding length and breadth and depth, conforming it to the infinite wisdom and knowl-edge of God. Often only in retrospect are we able to see that it was not only virtuous to obey, but was very wise, also. "Because you are conscious within yourselves," says St. Ig-natius of Loyola, "that you have undergone this yoke of obedi-ence for the love of God, to the end that you might, in following the Superior's will, more assuredly follow the divine, will; doubt not, but that the mgst faithful charity of our Lord continually directs you and .leads you in the right Way" by the hands of those whom He gives you for Superiors.''~ 88 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE This yoke of obedience: it can indeed bear heavily, it ban chafe and sometimes cut, and force us to go on and on dragging a weari-some burden. Christ Hirhself'felt the burden, and even prayed that it might be lifted from Him. And yet to Him, His Father's charity was faithful, most faithful; and even through the hands of Annas and Caiphas, of Judas and of Pilate, that faithful charity of His Father led Christ in that right way that led to our salvation. Christ obeyed for me. Christ }rusted His father for me. Christ loved me and delivered Himself for met delivered Himself for me not only that my sins migh}: be forgiven, that grace might come to me, but als'o that to me might come the honour of sharing His obedience with Him, of offering the noblest part of me to His Father with His offering, even of making myself one with His self-giving for the redemption~ of mankind. Nothing so unites us to Christ as Obedience;. for perfect obedi-ence gives to Him our liberty, our memory, and our very under-standing. What more" have we that we can give? And this giving is the most perfect charity: if you love me,. keep my commandments. Yet we give them in such simple, often almost commonplace, ways: doing what we are told, be it great or small, be it important or un: important, be it hard or easy. Nevertheless, if we do gi.ve our whole selves to Him in this simplicity of obedience, be sure that His most faithful charity does stay~ with us. Gradually He ta.kes us all: our remnants of self-contentment, our rags of pride, our dirtiness of devious self-seeking; of all these and suchlike His faithful charity gradually strips us: a pain at once and yet a joy, He is meek and humble of heart, even in His purifying of us to make us more fit to share with Him in His unutterably pure sacrifice to God. ,,He fills us with His own love of His Father. He gives us sometimes to feel something of that. joy with which He went to His Father. He allows us sometimes to see that His saving work goes on, even thrbugh me, even through me: but yet not through me, only through Him, and I spoil it, and yet He does not let me Spoil it quite, because it is truly He who obeys in me, and His obeying is of infinite love, even God's own love, The mystery of obedience: it is the mystery °of Christ; the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, in whom all is one, even to the blessedness qf giving of the WhOle and yet" receiving, of the Whole". And yet, it is quite simple: "If you love me, keep my command-_ ments. BERNARD LEEMING To conclude, then: ! 1. Obedience is a good in itself, and not for any utilitarian purpose, because obedience in itself unites me to God; and unity with God is an end in itself. 2. Obedience reflects the unity of Christ with His Father and reflects the divine life in Him. So it does likewise in me. 3. It is through obedience, as such, and not through human advantages secured by obedience, that Christ redeemed us. It is through obedience that we share His redeeming mission, share His power to save souls. 4. Progress in obedience means progress in union with Christ and means, too, greater accomplishment in our redemptive union with Him. With Christ we are co-workers in redemption; but that co-working (s, first and middle and last, union in His obedience. 5. Conkequently, let us pray for opportunities of obedience: that we may do each task because God commands it, that we may find our love and our life in doing His will. If the commands are simple, thank God; if they are difficult--perhaps removal from an office, perhaps subordination to an uncongenial senior--thank God more, for what else" are we for but to obey? SUMMER SESSIONS The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Pennsylvania (a three-year summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for siste.rs), will be held this year August 20-31. This is the first year in the triennial course. The'course in canon law is given by the Reverend 3osepb F. Gallen, S.2'., that in ascetical theology by the Reverend Daniel 2. M. Callahan, S.2., both of Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The registration is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors, general and provincial officials, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to the Reverend doseph F. Gallen, S.2., Woodstock College, Woodstock, Md. Gonzaga University offers three summer institutes for religious women only. These institutes were inspired by the recent emphasis on the religious formation of sisters. The topics and dates for the institutes are: moral direction for others~ dune 19-30; understanding human nature, 2'uly 2-13; personal holiness, 2.uly 16-27. Gonzaga also offers two institutes for priests only; one on sacred eloquence, the other on-the psychology of the adolescent. For further information write to the Reverend Leo 2". Robinson, S.3., Gonzaga University, Spokane 2, Washington. 90 Sist:ers' Ret:reat:s--I I Thomad Dubay, S.M. APPROACH TO SUB3ECT MATTER |N this second article on our sisters' retreat survey, we will discuss I the retreat master's approach to his subject matter. The first of the questions asked the sisters dealt with the technique the re-treat master uses in setting forth his tea.ching. We can convey what is here meant~ in no better way than by, reproducing the question just as it was asked.To avoid needless repetition, we will indicate the sisters' choices together with the statement of the survey question. Which of the following emphases in meditation exposes do you usually prefer? __many quotations from Sacred Scripture . 27 4.0%) __intellectual explanation of doctrine, principles, etc .115 16.9 %) __emotional approach (stress on beautiful images, language, etc.) .o . :'. . 4 .6%) ____combination of first and second . 195 (28.6%) ¯ __combination of first and third . 16 (2.3%) __combination of Second and third . 28 (4.1%) __mixture of all three . 297 (43~.5%) Further comment: (space p.rovided) From this data several conclusions seem unavoidable: 1. Almost none of the sisters (.6%) want stress placed on the emotions alone. 2. The group of sisters who want any notable stress placed on the emotions is decidedly small (7%). This conclusion is reached by combining categories 3, 5, and 6. 3. The vast majority (91.3%) want emphasis placed on solid intellectual content whatever the combination of emphases might be. This con, clusion is obtained by combining groups 2, 4, 5, and 7. 4. A large minority (45.5%) prefer no emotional appeal mixed in with the intellectual. This can be seen by uniting the results from categories 2 and 4. 5. The frequent use~of Sacred Scripture follows the intellectual approach in popularity among the sisters. The comments of the sisters on this problem are both interest-ing and enlightening. All three, but the emotional element ought to be relatively small. If the intellectual explanation is ignored, women's piety tends to becom~ soft, enervated, spineless. A thought-provoking, solid presentation with enough of the emotional to make it spiritually palatable appears best to me. 91 THOMAS DUBAY Reuieu~ for Religious I believe that principles for religious life should be based on .Holy Scripture. It is only too late that one finds the beauty and worthwhile passages in Holy Scripture. Personally, I have, found myself living in close union with God by just one passage studied in the New Testament at meditation or spiritual reading. Let's have intellectual explanation. If the priest has the ability to express his ideas well so much the better. The use of Scriptu.re must be an overflow from the medi-tative life of the speaker. There has been too much emphasis on' the emotional approach, so why not get meditation on a solid basis for a change? Intellectual and emotional--I don't mean sentimental. God made things t0 be beautiful. Why not~ talk about those beautiful things? A balanced mixture with no excess in any one. Flowery language annoys more than appeals, I think, Father; however, a correct, flfient style helps much--language from the heart to the heart--without being dramatic or emotional. Mixture of all. A retreat group made up of different personalities, characters, men~ talkies, etc. needs meditation exposds that will to a certain extent reach all. Beautiful thoughts stay in the memory much longer than cold cut and dry ones. Women love beautiful things, why not give them to us? I dislike retreat masters who key their meditations to the emotions. Probably they do this because they have been led to think women prefer this. I do not find the e~otional approach "stands up" under the r~alistic test of a year in the religlous life, Exposition of the Sacred Scriptures appeals to me as most fruitful for meditation. (Texts on Public Life of Christ.) Some emotion has its place, undoubtedly, but I think to be effective it requires the most complete sincerity on the part of the retreat master--otherwise it only makes one uncomfortable. Some emotional stress helps, but I resent having my emotions obviously played upon. Besides, the emotional effect is most iikely to wear off. I would like to add emotional approach in the original meaning of appeal to the emotions or affections, not sentimentality, but with much intellectual and doctrinal support. Never emotional. ,Meditation becomes more fruitful, more satisfying as knowledge, of the Scriptures and doctrine increases. Quotation from Scriptures is fine IF that quotation is explained. Content thoroughly intellectual. Manner of presentation depending on the indi-vidual's broad reading, conversations, and own conviction and realization (we need some variety here!). Structure stemming from Scripture. All three. ~owever, oratory (?), (shouting, whispering, and dramatic pauses) can be omitted in ALL exposes. God forbid! (emotional approach) It is amazing how all three sprinkled in can provide the "oil" for my own "ma-chinery"-- in other wolds, "the Holy Ghost can work through all three approaches to fit the individual--don't limit the approach and.keep 'em happy! and thinking. 92 March, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS "---II IX view of the sisters' observations just given and the numerical data previously noted, it appears that retreat masters should attempt to tailor their techniques accor~ling to the conclusions we have al-ready indicated. AMOUNT OF THEOLOGY We approach now a much-bandied-about question in the circles of sister formation interests: theology. Here we shall view the problem from the vantage point of retreat content, which, of course, touches upon in-service sister f6rmation. The amount of theology desirable in a retreat and the degree in which the sisters un'derstand it were the objects of two questions, the first of which follows: Do you think that the amount of theology ordinarily presented in retreat meditations is __ekcessive '.2__~too little __about right Further comment :__ A notable majority, 486 (72.6 %), of the sisters are well sails-fled with the amount of theology they ordinarily receive in their rdreats, although a sizeable minority, 171 (25.6%), decidedly think they hear too little. A v~ry small gr0ui~, 12 (1.8%), feel that too much theology is presented. The pres~ent writer has the impression from reading the many replies that the more completely educated sisters tend in greater ,.numbers to want more theology in their retreats, whil'e those with less formal training tend in greater nu~nbers to feel satisfied with the status quo. These tendencies are not, however, universal, for there are sister-teachers in college who are satisfied with retreat theology as it stands and some domestic sisters who desire more. The sisters offered the following comments on' their answers: Representative of those who think the theology is excessive: Excessive because of mixed groups of domestic sisters, etc.; otherwise it would be about right. Sisters who think the theology too little: ' Too much "dry" repetition of elementary data on the fundamentals., Religious should be mature and treated as such. o ¯ The more the better. We need it for .our teaching preparations. I have found it of great advantage when theology was much presented, since I only had an elementary education. Superiors should be advised to give books of theology to read to their sisters, if the confessor appr6ves of it, when a sister desires .it. ' 93 THOMAS DUBAY Revieu~ for Religious \ Many sisters are starved for real spiritual meat which can be satisfied only through theology. For many of the sisters retreat time is the only time they get a chance to get some theology. I don't think xve can get too much! Much too little. In some God is hardly mentioned except as author" of this or that law. And the Holy Ghost not so much as heard of. "Religious who think the amount of theology about right: Some tend to overdo it, but I think it appears excessive only if the retreat master uses too many abstract technical terms. I like points of theology brought out since I never studied it as such. Although it is not too little, there could be more as a number of us have the oc-casion to use it daily, Depends on retreat master. I find retreat masters about right; too little usually. Also depends on individual. It differs from a great deal to too little. Perhaps it could be more in most cases. I am satisfied with just the Personality of Christ according to Gospels. Retreat days ought not be a course in theology. If necessary, this should be taken care of otherwise. Some give more, others less, so that on the whole I'd say it evens up about right. As far as I am concerned, a deep theological retreat would be out of place. The mental training of our sisters is too varied to admit of excessive technicality in meditations. Sound, simple explanation of dogma is always welcome. Rather excess than defect. Sisters need solid dogmatic principles always. Do much harm a,mong those taught if they lack principles. Sometimes it is very excessive, but usually about right. However, they often presuppose more theological knowledge on our part than many of us actually possess. For our younger sisters who have had many courses in theology, it may be about right. For our older people and those who because of the work they do, do not continue.their education, it is probably excessive, except where the retreat master takes the trouble to clearly explain his points. Distinguish: amount of theology usually presented--O.K.; skill in bringing out theological implications, e.g., in a meditation on the Passion, without getting dry and classroomish--tbis is rarer. Too much, I believe, would dishearten the less intellectual; too little would make it impossible to form a foundation for the convictions necessary in living a spir-itual life. In coming toa satisfactory conclusion on this whole problem of theology it seems that the retreat m~ister must keep two cardinal points in mind: the sisters' background and his own treatment. March, 1956 SISTERS' RETREAT'S--II Both of these points are so relative that no possible suggestion to be adopted by all retreat masters can be given here. What is excessive for one community (or for one group of. sisters within it) may be too little for a second and about right for a third. Likewise, the same theology in the mouth of one priest may be excessive; in that of another, too little. To adjust the first relative element the retreat master might conduct a careful investigation of the sisters to whom he is going to give his retreat. He could write the provincial superior requesting information on the education and works of the sisters making the retreat and then adapt his methodology accordingly. An appraisal of the second element (the priest's treatment of theology) could be effected by. a simple, one-page questionnaire given by the retreat master to the sisters after his retreats. He could ask whether he had given enough theology, whether his e~planation was simple and clear, and any other question that might contribute to greater efficiency. This information would not benefit the sisters who furnished it, but it could be most helpful in subsequent retreats given by the retreat m~ister. /SISTERS' UNDERSTANDING OF THEOLOGY The sisters were next asked if they thought that the theology that was presented in their retreats was understood. Do you think that the sisters can understand the theology that is presented at least fairly well? __.most of them "do __some do __few do Further comment:__ The breakdown of the answers to this .query is percentage-wise quite close to that of the preceding question. The presence of too many diverse factors, however, prevents us from asserting that this correlation is really significant. For example, on this question some of the sisters answered in an unexpected way. These few indicated that the amount of theology discussed in retreats is too little and then in the present question chose the response ""some do" rather than "most do." Of the sisters ans.wering this question, 517 (76.2%) "think that most understand the theology, 153 (22.5%) that only some grasp it, and 9 (1.3%) that few sisters understand it. For this question it does not seem necessary to divide the sisters' further comments into categories, for their meaning is clear enough as they stand. 95 THOMAS DUBAY I'm not anything when it comes to brain power, but 1 can say. that I understood everything I've heard so far. Most sisters with high school or. colleg'e education can understand. Sisters with elementary education who have grown old with hard manual labor in homes or seminaries cannot. All in my community understand what is presented,, and most do it better than "fairly well.'~ I don't know how other sisters feel about it, but I like it. I think perhaps most of the priests think we have had more theology than we really have had. I certainly feel the sisters would be capable of receiving more if it were given. Before retreat begins we are able rather accurately to predict the outline of the con-ferences, if not .the matti~r of each conference. No challenge! ,. Very poor foundation in theology obtained in thee novitiate. Since most sisters either have a college education or are receiving it, they can under-stand considerably more than is usually offered, i believe. The fact that they might not [understand] would seem to indicate a further need for it. Too often I feel that the retreats are directed prima,rily to the teachers and the others find it difficult to follow ot:' gain much from it. Most' of them do, but not all like it. There is a certain type of nun who likes simple retreats. I do not believe it is a case of sisters failing to understand theology, but a case of retreat masters failing to present theology. Sisters have often gone through retreats without deriving much practical help. All sisters do not have a high inte!ligence and need more explaining. Much depends On the master's ability to make theological truths clear and mean-ingful, A retreat master should conduct the retreat on as high a theological, philosophical,. ascetical, and even mystical a plane as he is able. He should give sisters exactly the same substantial content as he would give to other priests. He need have no fear that they will not be able to understand and live what he himself understands and lives. He should deliver his message however without scholarly verbiage, Latinisms, and all the other .trappings~which' serve to impress rather than to clarify. Through no fault of 'their own, sisters do not have the information to cgpe with this. It is a great m'istake however--and sad to say a common one--to confound a sister's lack of technical theological learning with a lack of intelligence. It is the priest's task to make the technical comprehensible to the non-theologian. This of course demands much more unde~rstanding than does a presentation in the language of the manu'als. Most retreat masters present a very thin spiritual gruel by comparison with what they could give if they. had greater respect for the potentialities of the sisters. ~ The suggestions appended to our discussion of the immediately preceding question would appear to apply to this present problem with equal validity. 96 ( .uesHons and Answers [The following answ,ers are given by°Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.d., professor of canon law at Woodsiock College, W, oodstock, Maryland.] tI,t 9 ' Ih our concjrecjatlon of :sis ers here is a fee c~harcjed for the expenses of the postulancy and noviceshipI. Recently a novice had to have an op-eratlon for append|c,tls. Are tile expenses of th,s operat,on included ~n the fee, or are her parents obl,cjed to pay them? As permitted by can. 570~ § 1, and found at least frequently in all types of religious institutes', the constitutions of nuns and sisters ordinarily d~mand that the ca!ndidate brin~ prescribed clothing and personal effects with her to the postulancy and pay an established sum for the expenses ofthe" Ipostulancy and noviceship. The ex-penses for which payment mawr be demanded are only the ordinary and common expenses of food and clothing. The cost of the medi-cines and similar personal necessities that are usually required may be included under food. The I . ~ordmg of the canon does not permit an exaction for lodging nor for the cost of formation. Much less does it permit that the sum be~ established also for the profit of the institute, as if the,subject wer,e a student of an academy or college. The spirit of the canon is rather that nothing should be demanded if such a polic3r is a practical conform to this spirit at least readiness to grant necessary di Extraordinary expenses, e. g., serious illness, are not inciucJ The institute may rightfully that such expenses be borne b3 cases can readily and frequent'~ dent or inconsiderate to urge possibility~ Superiors should and do the extent of a prompt and cheerful pensationL whether whole or partial. those of :a surgical operation or of a '.d in this fee for ordir~ary expenses. demand, as in the present question, the subject or her parents. However, ~" occur in which it would be impru-his right: If the postulant or novice leaves or is dismissed, the insti}ute is entitled to payment of ex-p~ nses only for the time spe~nt in'the institute. 'Some aspects of the practice should be studied for possible re-vision. The list of things thalt the candidate is to bring with 'her should ,not be so massive as to]dismay a~ay-girl. Perhaps this is male ignorance, but it does not seem efficient to have each candidate bring such objects as towels, sheets, blankets, napkins, and silverware. I should think that uniformity of size and quality would be desir-" QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~iew for Religious able in such objects, that the institute could purchase them at a lower price, and that it would be more efficient to increase the fee somewhat. Despite any ancient authority that may be cited for this and similar.practices, I cannot see how personalized silverware contributes to speed in setting up a large refectory and much less to the supposed simplicity and humility of the religious life. Although extraneous to the present question, I would hold the same for a train on the religious habit, which appears to me to be neither simple nor humble and to be at least dubious in the field of hygiene. The customary practice of requiring that parents continue to supply during .the postulancy and noviceship things such as soap and toothpaste and articles of clothing that have been exhausted or worn out is the deceptive economy of money saved, but with un-noted spirit, ual depreciatiofi. The practice does not manifest a gen-erous spirit on the part of the institute and is not apt to engender a spirit of devotion and loyalty in the subject. It may also be the primaryreason why so many professed secure necessities from ex-terns. The psychology of religious infancy can be more lasting and tenacious than that of human infancy, and the usual correlative of stinginess of superiors is stubborn infidelity of subjects to. the ob-ligations of the vow and the laws on poverty. It is evidently con-trary to the quasi-contract of profession for an institute to exact payment from parents for expenses incurred after profession. Free gifts may be accepted. Expenses for food and clothing should not be charged for any period in which the postulants and novices are 'fully applied to the external works of the institute, e. g., as full-time teachers or nurses. It is conservative to state that few parents of religious are wealthy. Many have exhausted their financial capability in giving a son or daughter a high school education. They have sac-rificed any return on a child's earnings by the entrance into religion. Further exactions should not be imposed on them without at least careful and considerate thought. Finally, it is always to be remem-bered that it is extravagance, not~generosity, that is incompatible with religious poverty. ~0 Is it true that a resident chaplain should never hear ÷he confessions of ~'he sisters of the convent of which he is chaplain'? A chaplain as such is not the ordinary, extrhordinary, nor a sup-plementary confessor of the community. He may be appqinted as such. I believe that many would agree with me .in the statement that it is better not to appoint him as the ordinary" or extraordinary 98 March, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS c~nfessor of the c6mmunity. Anything alSproaching authority, mere friendship, and frequent soc"la 1a1n d b u s'iness contacts can be harmful to the greater efficacy of confeIs s. ion. It is therefore bettek not to ap-point a priest such as a chapla~in or one teaching in the school' with the sisters as their ordinary or extraordinary confessor. Since the confession will be the choice of the individual sister, no such reason exists against his appointment as the special ordinary of a sister or as a supplementary confessor of the convent of which he is,chap-lain. In the latter case he is evidently obliged in virtue of this ap-pointment to hear the confession of any sister 6f the convent who approaches him for confession when there is a just reason and for as long as the just reason continues. There is no question that he will be willing to hear'the confession of a sister in danger of death¯ Inasmuch as he possesses confessioIial jurisdiction for women, he can be both an occasional and a confessor of seriously sick sisters¯ As such he is obviously not to usurp the duty of the ordinary confessor of the community, but he should be willing to hear the confessions of sisters who reasonably request him to do so. He cannot be un-mindful of charity, and his study of moral theology and can6n law should have convinced him that cases of real spiritual necessity occur in all states of life. Furthermore, the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments has emphasized the principle with regard to the members of any type of community: ". what is especial, ly important, that they should have the opportunity to make a confession also shortly before the time of Communion . . . where frequent and daily Com-munion is in vogue, frequent and daily opportunity for sacramental confession, as far as that is possible, must also be afforded¯"' (Bous-caren, Canon Laco Digest, II, 210.) The Sacred Congregation could not have been unaware of the fact that the only priest who is cus-tomarily present in a house of lay religious daily, especially immedi-ately before Mass, is the resident chaplain or the priest who says the daily Mass. II We are a diocesan concjregation. Sometime in the past we had a particular sister who left; if she had not left, we would have tried to dis-miss her. She was a most difficult and peculiar subject. On leavlncj, she threatened to sue us for the work she had done in the concjrecjation. How could we have protected ourselves.'! Relig'ious progression contains two elements, the taking o;f the vows and a quasi-contract between the subject and the institute. One of the elements of this quasi-contract is that the religious gives 99 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERff Review for Religious over all her. labor to the institute. For. this reason can. 580, § 2, logically declares that anything given to a religious for his work belongs to the institute~ With equal logic can. 643, § 1, declares that a professed religious who leaves or is dismissed may not seek com-pensation for services rendered to the institute. This Canon is in-serted in constitutions approved by the Holy See. It is also under-stood that the same dedication of services applies to postulants and novices. The Holy See in approving constltut~ons adds a provision to can. 643 § 1. This provision enacts'that aspirants on their admis-sion to the postulancy must signa civilly valid document in which they dechlre that they will not demand any remuneration for serv-ices given in .the institute if they leave or are dismissed. The Holy. See of late has also been requiring that this declaration be renewed at the time of perpet[~al profession. It is understood that this pro-vision applies also to the postulancy and noviceship and is to be so wprded. To avoid any future difficulty, "such a provision should be made, even if it is not prescribed in the constitutions. The reason for the renewed declaration prescribed at the time of perpetual pro-fession is to make certain that the declaration will be made at a legal age, since .perpetual~ profession cannot be validly made until the day after the twenty-first birthday (c. 573). -12 Is correspondence'with the vicar for religious exempt from the in~pec-tion of superiors? Canon 611 exempts from inspection correspondence °with the local ordinaries to whom the religious is subject in matters in which the religious is subject to the ordinaries. It is probable that this same exemption extends to corresigondence with the priest delegated by l;h.e local ordinary to take care of the affairs of a igarticular community or of some or all communities of the diocese, since in fact such a priest i's handling the matters that appertain to the ordinary. It can be objected that the canon does not say, "to the local ordinary or his delegate," and fi superior could licitly deny that the exemption is proved.' However, it would be the part of prudence at least' not to subject such mail to any inspection. Religious ~bould be instructed not to be quick td write to the Holy See, the cardinal protector, " the apostoli~'deleg~ite; or the local ordinary, or his delegate. Such letters derriand a serious m~itter that cannot be resolved by recourse to one's own religious, suPeriors. °External authorities and dignitaries'should. 100 March, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS n6t,be annoyed by, needless a'nd extraneous correspondence; and do-mestic grievances, especially if purely personfil' or subjective, are to be confined by the family walls. How many "washings must alprlest do of the puHficators, palls, and corporals? Purifactors, palls, and cor~orals~ used in the sacrifice of the Mass are to be washed by. a cleric in major orders ,before being laundered by lay persons. The water of thls first w, ashing is to be poured into the sacrarium. The cleric in m~jor orders is obliged to only one ritual .washing; he may'do three if l~e wisbes to do so. The first washing may not be done even by rehglous women without an indult from the Holy See. The local ordinaries in mission countries have the power of granting such perm~ssmn to religious women. Cf. c. 1306, § 2; Cori3nata, Institutiones Iu~is Canonici, II, n. 887, 2*; J. O'Con-nell, The Celebration of Mas's, 256; Collins, The Church Edi[ice and Its AppOintments, 219-2~: Britt, Church Linens, 32; Murphy, The Sacristan's Manual, 12-13; Winslow, A Cornrnentarg on the Apostolic Faculties, 61. " Does the general ~decree on ~he simplification of the rubrics apply to the Lfffle Office of the ELV.M.? The decree of the Sacred [Congregation of Rites is confined to the rubrics of the Divine Office, and Mass, but from analogy the norms on the beginning and ~nd of the hours nSay be licitly used in both the choral and indivi~tual recitation of the Little Office of the B. V. M. The following, is a summary of the ~.ertinent parts of the decree. In beginnin~ both the pub(ic and private recitation c~f the canoni-cal hours, the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Apostles' Cr~ed are omitted; and the hours begin~ absolutely as follows: Matins from Domine, labia mea aperies; Cc~mpline from Iube, dorone benedicere; all others from Deus, tn adtut~orturn. In both public and private recitation, the canonical hours end as follov~s: Prime with Dom~mus nos benedicat; Complin~ with Benedicat et custodiat; all others,including Matins if recited pri-vately, with Fideliurn anirnae.~ The office ends after Compline with the recitation of the ,custo-mary antiphon of the B. V-. M., which is said here only, and Divinum auxiliurn. The indult and indulgences granted for the recit'ation of QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Sacrosanctae are attached to this same final antiphon 6f the B, V, M. Cf.~ M.'Noir0t, L'Arni du C!erg~, August, 1955, 512, note 2. 15 I wished to send a letter ,÷o ~he superior general, and I believed there was a serious reason why'th~ sehdincj of this letter should hive remained completely unknown to the local superior. How c,oulc~ I have accomplished this without violating our regulations? Correspohden~e with-higher superiors is exempt in virtue of c. 611. Exemption means the right to send and receive determined let-ters without permission, to receive them u~aopened, to send them uninspected, and probably the right to send and receive ttSem com-pletely unknown to the superior. Therefore, a superior is not to open sfich letters; and they are to be sealed before being presented to a s'uperior. The probable right o.f sending and receiving them com-pletely unknown to the superior is founded on the wording of c. 611, which states that exempt letters .are subject to n6 inspection. Article 180 of the Normae of 1901 aflir;ned that th~se letter~ were free of any inspection. It can be argued, at least with probability, that they would be subject to some inspection if they had to be presented to or received by the superior. Ordinarily there will be no special reasons against transmitting these letters sealed through the local superior. However, it should be possible to obtain a stamp unknown'to,the.superior; e." g., by having some stamps in the custody of the local.assistant or another religious. If a subject cannot so ob-tain a ~tam. p and wishes to send an exempt letter free of all inspec-tion,° he may obtain a stamp from other sources. He is to avoid all disedification in such.an act. It is not necessary to go to the ex-treme of having the porter separate all exempted envelopes and hand them immediately to the individual religious. ~16~ Our constifutlons state that the reading at table is to be from a pious book. What is the meaning of a pious book? This article of the constitutions is based, on article 182 of th~ Normae of 1901, which specified that the reading was to be from "some 16ious book." This does not demand that. the .reading be always from~ a ~spiritual book; the interpretatior~.is that the reading should be spiritual or useful. Therefore," the reading mgy be also from su{h book~ as" ecclesiastical histories, histories of'religious in-stitutes, e~clesiastical biog~aphies,'etc.,, and, also from instructive and hppropridte secular works. Cf. Battandie'r, Guide Canonique, n. 303. 102 90o! Reviews [All material for this department should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College. West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST AS THE BASIC PRINCIPLE OF SPIRITUAL,LIFE. By F~iedr[ch Jurcjensmeler. Translafed by Harrier G. Sfrauss. Pp. 379. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1954. $5.00. If ever there was a work of love; it is Father Jurgensmeier's The Mystical Bod~l of Christ. This is flue not ~nly of its subject matter but also of its authorship" an4 translation. The author, rector of the Archiepisocpal Seminary of Paderborn from 1938 to 1946 and martyr of necessary overwork, wrote only this one book, spending years on it and seemingly integrating his whole life, thought, and reading in it. The translator, Harriet G. Strauss, a convert, worked intermittently for five years under 'the direction of Provost Heinrich Seidler of Dresden putting the book into English. The first part of the book. is a comprehensive synthesis df Pauline "texts concerning the Mystical Body, a synthesis which both leads "the reader to the conclusion that the living union with Christ in the MysticalBody is the core of St. Paul's message and makes him anx-ious to read through the Epistles of St. Pa'ul to discover for himself ,their.wealth ~of meaning~ This section is followed' by a difficult dogmatic_ exposition demonstrating that whether one traces the dogmatic path leading from man to God or the one leading from ¯ God through grace to man, one nevertheless ends up at the same place, union with Christ in the Mystical Body. Thus the Mystical Body dogma, because of its central and fundamental position in dogmatic theology, ,is also the basic prificiple for the ascetical life. The last and most rewarding part of the book shows how the Mystical Body doctrine, 'as the fundamental principle of the as-cetical life, not only balances the roles of grace and human effort in" asceticism, but centers attention on Christ rather than on peripheral matters. It does this because it clearly-shows union with Christ as the center and source of all spiritual life; because it focuses atten-tion on the'sacraments as forces integrating us into the structure of the~Mystical Body of Christ and uniting us more closely with Him; because it regulates private devotion and'the liturgy,: and co-ordinates them into .the sacrificial action of Christ the High Priest;- because without neglecting the moral virtues it emphasizes the the- 103 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Retigiou~ ological as uniting with Christ, because it reveals suffering as the finest living of Christ's life and charity as the chief duty in one united with Christ; because it spotlights the fact that each one of us, no matter how insignificant, has a unique and important personal work to accomplish' in Christ's Mystical Body. ° If there are three strata of knowledge in theology, the topmost for the experts, the middle for eager students, and the lowermost for the average Catholic, then Father 3urgensmeier's work would be on the second level sinc,e it demands concentration and study. The translator-edftor is to be lauded for her work in bringing this book into conformity with Pius XII's~M~stici Corporis, but sh~ has not succeeded in all respects. For example, Father Jurgensmeier's errors concerning the extent of and conditions for incorporation in the Mystical Body, though removed in mor.e evident passages, still persist in less noti.ceable ones. Nor are the quotations from M~stici Corporis always apt in selection and textual integration. Father Jurgensmeier himself has complicated the task of the translator by using the same terms in two senses, sdmetimes within the same sen-tence, wiihout warning the reader. Further, in praiseworthily en-deavoring to clarify the meaning of that special mystical identifica- 'tion with \Christ, he has ambiguously described it as a personal character. But these,qualifications, though meant as a warning of caution too the reader, are not intended as derogatory to this magnificent work. Rather it should be considered, as Archbishop Cushing notes in the Foreword, o"a spiritual masterpiece" which can be reread and reread always with g~eater profit. DAVID d. HASSEL, S.J. I AM A DAUGHTER OF THE CHURCH. A Practical Synthesis of Car-mellfe Splrifuality. Volume II. By P. Marie-Eucjane, O.C.D. Trans-la÷e~: l by SMer M. Verda Clare,: C.S.C. Pp. 667. Fides Publishers, Chicacjo 10, Illinois. 19SS. $6.75. In 1953 Fides Publishers produced the first part of a synthesis of the teachings of St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross (with examples from the life of the Little Flower) under the title 1 Want to See God. The present work brings to a close this bril-liant and compendious study, explaining as it does the; soul's prog-ress from the beginning of supernatural contemplation in the fourth" of the Teresan.mansions to ~the~ ultimate union °with God in the seventh, .104 March, "1956 ." BOOK REVIEWS Anyone interested in the various stages of supernatural and mystical prayer will find this work of great assistance. The author's genius for synthesis--abundant quotations woven together "with commentary into an orderly development--is evident as he treats in turn supernatural recollection and the prayer of quiet, contem-plative dryness, the dark night of sense, union of the will, the dark night of the spirit, and, finally, transforming union of the soul with God in perfect love. His deft reconciling of apparent divergences in the doctrines of St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross is especially notable. Two short sections of the book stand out significantly for souls whose vocation is to be apostles in the modern world, whether or not God has raised them to the higher mansions. The first is Chap-ter X of Part IV, "The Mystery of the Church" (pp. 186-201). Upon reaching a state of union of the will with God (fifth man-sion), Teresa says that the soul is seized with an intense concern for the salvation of other souls. Its eyes are opened to thee.mission it must fulfill in' the Mystical Body. This is what Fath'er Marie- Eugene terms the soul's "~iscovery of the Church." At this point, tvhaetnio, nh eto s kbeet cehffeesc atend e bxyc e~lltehnet usnuimtimnga royf oafll t mhee dni vtoin Ce hprliasnt, oinf sthale-. Mystical Body--a program which dominated' St. Paul's thinking, and which he called the mystery. In Chapter IX of Part V, "The Saint in the Whole Christ" (pp. 606-62), the author b.egins by stressing the exalted and im-perious demands the lov~ of God makes on the soul raised to the sixth and seventh mansions to help in saving other souls. Then in a section'which is almost wholly original, though strictly in har-mony with Teresan spirituality, Father Marie;Eugene discusses the place of contemplation in the lives of modern apostles. It is this section of the book which, he says in the introduction, "he was tempted toe expand. What he has written is most valuable; we may hope that he is able to develop his ideas in their fullness in a future work., Among other sections which may attract special interest., are those on extraordin.ary.favor~ (pp. 243-97), which a.mounts to,a concise treatise on the~subject, and the. lengthy explanation of the dark night of the spirit (pp. 300-506): The publisher .has rendered a distinct .service to American read-ers by presenting these books in English, The typography is well chosen (save, I would say, for the title page and table of contents). 105. BOOK REVIEWS Review [or Religious A handy summary of Teresan spirituality, according to, the char-acteristics of the seven mansions, is printed inside the front cover. The inclusion of a combined index for both volumes would have enhanced the book's value even more. A final word of congratulation must be reserved for the trans-lator, who has produced as smoo.th and' forceful a translation as if the work had been written originally in English. May she turn her hand to other works where less skilled translators" fail to tread! --THEODORE W. WALTERS, TRUE MORALITY AND ITS COUNTERFEITS.' A Critical Analysis of Ex-is÷en÷ialisfic E÷hics. By Diefrlch yon Hildebrand wi÷h Alice Jourdaln. Pp. 179. David McKay Co., Inc., New York. 195S. $3.00. This book, after a brief introduction in which the author clearly states his object and method, contains nine chapters dealing mostly with "circumstance ethics." An appendix, "Allocution du St. P~re d la Fdd~ration. Mondiale des deunessbs "F~minines Catboliques'" (April, 1952) forms the conclusion. As far as can be seen, the book is the work of Von Hildebrand alone. We have ~here a vigor-ous attack both on "situa~tion or circumstances ethics" as well as on "sin m~rsticism." The former, already analyzed and condemned by the Pope in the allocution above referred to, is subjected to a ldnger analysis here. The results are the same--a ringing condem-nation of "situation ethics." The author grants the complexity ~of the individual moral situation, details the pertinent f~ctors'at play therein, but insists with the Pope upon the primacy of universal moral laws. Th~ exaggerations, even the unchristianity, of "~itu-ation ethics" is shown.- The final chapter is a positive statement of Christian ethics. Of more interest and originality, perhaps, are the parts which deal with "sin mysticism," a phrase taken from the German the-ologian, K. Rahner, S.d. This is a.kind of lived .application of some of the principles of "situa~tion ethics" manifested especially in liter-ature. It con'sists in the exaltation'of the tragic~ sinner over the self-righteous, mediocre, or merely conyentionally moral man. Von Hildebrand fi, nds traces of this tendency, in varying~ degress~ in' Catholic writers like Mauriac, Greene, Gertriad~ yon Le Fort and others. Since these Catholic authors~ are read by our students on the college level, at least, teachers of literature will want to read the indictment. Von Hildebrand is certainly not unsympathetic 1.06 March, 1956 ' " BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS towards these writers; he admits~ what he considers the truth they contain, recalls several necessary dtstlnctlons from Catholic ethics, but, in the end, is driven to condemn this tendency in them. --JAMES d. DOYLE, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS )kVE MARIA PRESS, Notre Dame, Indiana. Spirituality for: Postulate, NoOitiate, SchoIasticate, l~y Jar~es F. McElhone, C.S.C., is a book on the spiritual life written ex-plicitly fo~ beginners. It !is not a complete treatise on the religious life but alms to lay a solid foundation for such a life. It fills a need long felt by directors of young religious. Pp. 196. $3.00. THE B'RUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, WiSconsin. Helps and Hindrances to Perfection, by Thomas J. Higgins, S.J., is a sequel to the author's Perfection Is.for You. The readers for whom it is intended'are all ~he members of the Mystical Body of Christ, for each is bound to tend toward perfection. All can find in these pages help and inspiration. Houses where closed lay re-treats are conducted would do well to add both these volumes to the r~treatants library: .Pp. 258.$4.50. CARMELITE THIRD ORDER PRESS, 6415 Woodlawn Ave., Chicago 37, Ill. Mary and the Saints of Carmel, By-Reverend Valentine L. Boyle, O.Carm. This is a book of meditations on the feasts of our Lady and the saints of the Carmelite Order. Each meditation con-sists of a hundred-word biographical sketch, a one-sentence appli-cation, and the prayer of the-saint from the Carmelite missal. It is profusely illustrated in black and white. Pp. 185. $1.50. Carmel--Mary's Own. A History of the Carmelite Order. Part I. The Elian Origin o? Carmel. Pp. 64, 25c. Part II. The Golden Age of Car~el. Pp. 70. 25c. Part III. Carmel in Modern Times. Pp. 68. 25c. CLONMORE AND REYNOLDS, LTD., 29 Kildare St., Dublin. The Spiritual Teacl~ing of Venerable Francis Libermann. By Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Founders of religious orders and con-gregations receive many. special graces from God to enable them to guide wisely in the paths of perfection those ,whom God gives them as followers. That is why the writings of. such founders are esteemed and treasured. The Venerable Francis Libermann, founder. 107 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious of the Congregations of the Holy 'Ghost and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, left his followers many valuable documents. Father Kelly has put these in the framework of a treatise on the spiritual life and so has made the wise counsels of the founder of his congrega-tion available to a wider circle of readers. Pp. 201. 13/-. DAUGHTERS OF SAINT PAUL, Old Lake Shore Road, Derby," N. Y. In The Daily Gospel we bare a harmonization of the four G~s-pels due essentially to Father Szczepanski, S.J. A portion of the Gospel is presented for each day of the year. Each selection is fol-lowed by a pertinent quotation from the fathers of the Church and a reflection. The reflections were compiled by John E. Robaldo, S.S.P. The text of the Gospels is the Confraternity version. Keep this book hand~; on your desk and nourish your soul with the Words of Life. Pp. 495. Paper $3.00. Cloth $4.00. Bible Stories for Children. Written and illustrated by the Daughters of' St. Paul. The book contains twenty-six stories from the Old Testament and fifty from the New. Each story is illus-trated with a full page attractive picture in four colors. Pp. 165. Soft cover $1.75. Cloth $3.00. St. Paul Catechism of Christian Doctrine. Prepared and illus-trated by the Daughters of St. Paul. There are six books in the set, one for each grade from one to six. They are richly illustrated in four colors. "Each lesson is divided into three parts: Catechism, Sacred Scripture, and Liturgy. Single copies retail for from 30 to 60 cents. DESCLEE COMPANY, INC., 280 Broadway, New York 7. A Short Histoql of Philosophg. By F. J. Thonnard, A.A. Translated by Edward A. Maziarz, C.PP.S. This is an excellent philosophical presentation of the major trends, schools, and leaders of Western philosophic thought. The intrinsic connection between the presuppositions, basic principles, and doctrines of the major philosohers is emphasized and their thought is briefly evaluated in" the light of Thomistic principles. The. work has excellent bibli-ographies and a valuable doctrinal table. This Efiglish translation, though faulty, will be welcome. Pp. 1074. $6.50. DOYLE AND FINEGAN, Collegeville, Minnesota. The-Simplilication of the Rubrics. Text of the Decree toitb Commentar~.1. By Annibale Bugnini, C.M. Translated by Leonard J. Doyle.~ Father Bugnini's commentary is by far the best that 108 March, 1956 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS has appeared so far and will do much to give a better understanding of the new rubrics. Pp. 131. $1.50. Order for Office and Mass, 1956. This is an English Ordo written for those who say the Divine Office in Engllsb. Pp. 115. $1.25. FELICIAN SISTERS, 600 Doat .St., Buffalo, N. Y. Magnigcat. A Centennial Record of the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Felix. The appearance of this book announces the happy completion of a century of growth and progress of the Felician sisters. All religious will find this book both interesting and in-spiring. To learn what others have done and are doing for the love of God is an external grace which stimulates to greater and more generous efforts in the following of Christ. It is a .valuable his-torical do.cument that every Catholic library should have. Pp. 155. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Religio Religiosi. By Aidan Cardinal Gasquet, O.S.B. Though published in England in 1923, this little volume is not very well known in this country; and it should be better known. If all who have to face the problem of a choice of a state in life 'would read this book, vocations to the religious life would be multiplied. Pp. 120. $2.50. True Christmas Spirit. By Reverend Edward J. Sutfin. Here is a °book on the Christmas liturgy written at the request of edu-cators to assist them in teaching liturgy to children. It draws on the treasury of world literature and custom. Religious devoted to teaching will find this book most helpful. Pp. 154. $3,00. The Help of His Grace. The Storg of a Benedictine Sister. By Sister Jean Marie, O.S.B. This booklet is a new addition to vo-cational literature. Girls who wish to decide whether they have a vocation to the Benedictine way of life will find it most helpful. Pp. 108. $.50. ~ B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. The Names of Christ. By Louis of Leon, O.S.A. Translated by Edward J. Schuster. The author of this book was a professor of the University of Salamanca and a contemporary of St. Teresa of Avila and of St. John of the Cross. His spiritual doctrine is well summed up in the present volume. It is the sixth in the Cross .and Crown Series of Spirituality. Pp. 315. $4.75. The Church Teaches. Documents of the Church in English 109 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Reoiew [or Religious Translation. By the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Mar~;s, Kansas. The gratifying growth of the departments of religion in our-Catholic colleges and universities makes bool~s like the pres.ent volume a necessity. The argument from tradition will always be a major argument in all religious questions. Hence the necessity of translating the documents enshrining this tradition into English, since a knowledge of Latin and Greek can no longer be presupposed in tb~ students of religion. This book is a "must" for teachers of "rel'igion. Pp. 400. $5.75. :" Introduction to the Philosoph~t of Animate Nature. By Henry J. Koren, C.S.Sp. Teachers of philosophy will welcome this ne~i addition to Catholic texts on rational psychology. There is more 'than enough material for a three-hour one-semester course. An ap-pendix .contain~ a list of review questions and suggested readings. Pp. 341. $4.75. An Introduction to the Science of Metapbgsics. By Henry J. Koren, C.S.Sp. This clear, understandable, and orderly textbook, giving the traditional Thomistic doctrine of being, is divided into two parts: being in general (,its nature, its transcendental properties and its limitation), and finite being (its nature and multiplication, its categories, and its causes). For a three-hour one-semester course some selection of material will be necessary. Pp. 341. $4.75. THI~ NI~WMAN IaRI~SS, Westminster, .Ma'ryland. An Hour with Jesus. Meditations for Religious. By Abbe Gaston Courtois. Translated by 'Sister Helen Madeleine, S.N.D. Religious women whose work is education will find enlightenment, encouragement, and many practical, suggestions in this volume. Used as an aid for meditation, the book should do much to advance its users in. the art of mental prayer. Pp. 161. $3.00. :'"Cleanse mg Heart. Meditations on .the Sunda~t Gospels. By Vincerit P. McCorry, S.J. Readers of America will be familiar with Father McCorry's liturgical column "The Word." They will be pleased that one year's offerings have been given a more permanent form in the present volume. Pp. 179. $2.75. Graceful Living. A Course in the Appreciation of the Sacra-ments. By John Fearon, O.P. This is a book on the theology of the sacraments written in a popular vein to catch the interest of the ordinary Catholic and so help him to a fuller Catholic life. It was a selection of the Spiritual Book Associates. Pp. 160. $2.50. Leauen of Holiness. Conferences for Religious. By Reverend 110 March, 1956 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Charles Hugo Doyle. Those who have read Father Doyle's first book of conferences for religious, In Pursuit of Perfection, will find in this volume the same freshness of style and vigor of presentation. Pp. 242. $3.50. Meditations Before Mass. By Romano Guardini. Translated by Elinor C. Briefs. Despite the title, this is not a book of medi-tations. It is rather a collection of conferences given originally before Mass to enable the congregation to enter fully into the divine action. Its purpose is to teach a greater appreciation of and participation in the holy sacrifice. Pp. 203'. $3.00. THE PRIORY PRESS, Asbury Road, Dubuque, Iowa. Beginnings: Genesis and Modern Science. By Charles Hauret. Translated and adapted from the 4th French edition by E. P. Em-mans, O.P. and S.S.Prolyta. There can be no conflict between faith and science since God is the author of both. Yet there may be ap-parent conflict. Father Hauret, a scientist in his own right, squarely faces the problems posed by the account of creation in the first three chapters of Genesis and the findings of modern science. If you teach religion, this is a book you should read. You will learn much about the Sacred Scriptures as well as about modern science, and you will be in a position to give satisfactory answers to modern doubters. Pp. 304. $3.25. SAINT CHARLES SEMINARY, 209 Flagg Place, Staten Island 4, N. Y. Father to the Immigrants. dohn Baptist Scalabrini, Bishop of Piacenza. By Icilio Felici. Translated by Carol della Chiesa. On June 1, 1905, John Baptist Scalabrini, Bishop of Piacenza died a holy death. He was a remarkable man, and his memory is honored particularly for his heroic labors in behalf of Italian immigrants in both Americas. He came to their aid by founding the Society of St. Raphael, a lay organization, to alleviate their material wants; by founding a society of missionary priests, now popularly known as the Scalabrinian fathers, to care for their spiritual needs; by starting a congregation of sisters to care for the orphaned and the sick among them. It. was be who came to" the rescue of the Mis-sionary Zelatrices of the Sacred Heart, when it seemed that they must disband, and interested them in work for immigrants. It was he too who urged Mother Cabrini to choose America rather than the Orient for bet field of labors. This is the first full-length bi-ography in English of this saintly bishop, a milestone on the way to his beatification. Pp. 248. $3.00. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS SAINT PAUL PUBLICATIONS, 2187 Victory Blvd., Staten Island 14, N. Y. The Perennial Order by Martin Versfeld is a book on Catholic philosophy which is not a textbook. It will be read with interest and profit even by those who have had the usual courses in philo-sophy, for it deals with many topics not mentioned in the conven-tional courses. It is an apostolic book in the sense that it is written also for non-Catholics. It should do much to answer many an in-tellectual difficulty of the sincere inquirer and so prepare the way for conversion. Pp. 250. $3.00. SHEED AND WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3. Su)ift Victory. Essays on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit. By Walter Farrell, O.P. and Dominic Hughes, O.P. It is perhaps no exaggeration to say that most Catholics know so little of the gifts of the Hoiy Ghost that they cannot even name them all. The reason possibly is that they are not something to strive for, but something freely granted to those who love God. Every Catholic should know more about these treasures which are his. Pp. 211. $3.25. In Soft Garments. A Collection of Oxford Conferences. By Ronatd A. Knox. This collection was first published in 1942. The present reprint is in response to popular demand. Pp. 214. $3.00. TEMPLEGATE, Springfield, Illinois. Loue of Our Neighbor. Edited by Albert Ple, O.P. Translated by Donald Attwater and R. F. Trevett. This book is the report of a symposium on charity in which this virtue was dealt with from many angles. Part one deals with charity and Revelation. Part two treats of the theology of this virtue. Part three has such chapters as "A Philosophy of Relation to Others," "Psychoanalysis and Love of One's Neighbors," "Love of Our Neighbor and the Economics of Giving." Part four consists of an outline of what a complete treatise on the love of our neighbor must be if it is ever to be written. Pp. 182. $3.95. CATHOLIC ALMANAC, 1956 The 1956 National Catholic Almanac, a very valuable reference book, is now available at the St. Anthony Guild Press, 508 Marshall St., Paterson, New Jersey. Cloth, $2.50; paper, $2.00. OUR CONTRIBUTORS MOTHER MARY ELEANOR teaches at Rosemont College, Rosemont, Penn-sylvania. BERNARD LEEMING is a professor of theology at Heythrop College, Oxon, England. THOMAS DUBAY teaches theology and homiletics at Marist College, Washington, D. C. 112 InJ:orma!:ion [or Subscribers BUSINESS OFFICE ADDRESS: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas. SEND ALL RENEWALS AND SUBSCRIPTIONS TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas. NOTICES OF EXPIRATION have been mailed to all sub-scribers whose subscriptions expired with Jan., 1956. We hope that those who have not yet done so may find it convenient to renew at an early date. When renewing please return the postal-card notice sent to you. It is of great assistance to us in making prompt and ac-curate identification of renewals. EARLY RENEWAL of subscriptions enables us to prepare our ~-~.mailing list for tl~ next issue and avoids delays incurred by later additional mailings. 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Issue 62.3 of the Review for Religious, 2003. ; Holiness Religious Life Saintly Mentoring QUARTERLY 62.3 2003 . to God's Universal call tO ,holiness that flow from tbe~cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2003 Review for Religious. Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adviso~7 Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 62.3 2003 contents 230 holiness Be Holy as God Is Holy George A. Maloney SJ reflects on the holiness of God and our own holiness from the evidences of Scripture. 239 Praying with the Body: Not Running Ahead of Grace Rende Nienaber SND describes a number of ways to enter into prayer by involving our bodies. 251 religious life Prophetic Voice in Religious Life Elizabeth A. Dreyer reflects on two aspects of being a prophet--being an agent of change and living a contemplative existence--and issues a challenge to religious life. Review for Religious 269 Charism: Is Marketing Needed? Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR proposes a refinement in a religious congregation's method of research into its charism by examining its own continuing pastoral care and pastoral sensitivity in relation to the founder's. 287 John of the Cross's Message for Today Ernest E. Lark.in OCarm indicates how contemporary forms of contemplative prayer--centering prayer, Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer--fit into John of the Cross's teaching on contemplation. 301 Catherine McAuley's Reliance on Providence Mary Judith O'Brien RSM examines the life of Catherine McAuley, foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, as an example of one who surrenders her whole being in trust to God. epar r en s 228 Prisms 316 Canonical Counsel: Effects of Departure 324 Book Reviews 62.3 2003 prisms A great gift of the four constitu-tions of the Second Vatican Council--on the church (Lumen gentium), on divine revelation (Dei verbum), on the sacred liturgy (Sacrosanctum concilium), and on the church in the modern world (Gaudium et spes)--is their readability and their applicability. The matters treated in them can continue to enhance our Catholic life. Whereas the Council of Trent in the 16th cen-tury was needed to put the church's own house in order (the Catholic reformation), Vatican Council II in the 20th century, identified as a pastoral council, looked to revitalizing our faith practice and our mis-sionary effort (Catholic renewal) as we became more fully engaged in the world we live in. We might describe Vatican II as addressing the problem of a distance many Catholics felt from a God in heaven, from Jesus Christ in their awed reverence toward the Blessed Sacrament, from the church in its authority, and from our world itself (b~cause it was "out there"). The church, too, often seemed "out there," embodied in pastors and bishops and encycli-cals that were not exactly us. Vatican II reminded Catholics that they belonged, that baptism made them "the people of God," with rights and responsibilities in the church. God's word in the Bible had sometimes seemed only a Protestant thing, or a Latin thing that priests preached about in English. Catholics were often more touched and uplifted by holy hours honoring the Sacred Heart and evening devotions in honor of Our Lady of Perpetual Help than they were by Mass and the various sacraments. The Mass in Latin had a Revie~ for Religious certain majesty and mystery within our small or large churches, but people attended at a distance, often deliberately towards the rear. Though we in the United States did not generally feel excluded or constrained in our parishes, when we now look back we see ourselves as having lived and learned our faith in a kind of ghetto outside the mainstream of our country. The four constitutions and the decrees of Vatican II changed our ways of thinking and acting. They called on all of us to take responsibility not only for our own adult faith lives, but also for the talent and improvement we can bring to national cultures and values and international ones as well. All our lives long we are being continually formed by the word of God and by God's providence in the events of our lives. In this way we come to know Jesus Christ better, as our Lord and Savior and also as our friend in the joys and difficulties of our lives. Baptized into Jesus' life, death, and resurrection and thus into his priesthood too, we share, with the ordained leadership of our bishops, priests, and deacons, in celebrating the Eucharist and the other sacraments. Our church looks on our world with neither fear nor disdain, but seeks to be involved hopefully and helpfully in its happiness and sorrows. Yes, Vatican II has increased the participation of many in all things Catholic. Now recent Roman documents dealing with liturgy, Eucharist, and devotions like the rosary have been issu-ing a call, recalling for us our human need of reverence in deal-ing with God and the things of God. Family love and friendship, yes, but overfamiliarity has less place in the family of God than in ordinary families. We are being reminded that, as well-loved creatures, we still need awe and reverence towards our Creator, and even towards the people in our lives, nearby and on the other side of the world. We are being called to the Trinitarian roots of our Catholic spirituality--a grand unity in an unfath-omable tension. In our relation to God and one another, we yearn to give and receive loving reverence, reverent love. David L. Fleming SJ 62.3 2003 holiness GEORGE A. MALONEY Be Holy as God Is Holy St. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, teaches these new Christians the essence of God's calling in Christ Jesus: Before the world was made, he chose us in Christ to be holy and spotless and to live through love in his pres-ence, determining that we should become his adopted children through Jesus Christ for his own kind pur-poses. (Ep 1:4-5) In all of the Old and New Testaments, we will not find any words to express, as the words holi-ness and holy do, the mystery of the perfection in the Trinitarian community of love and the mys-tery of God's will revealed through Jesus Christ: "to be holy and spodess and to live through love in his presence." It is sad that many Christians have never had a true scriptural meaning of holi-ness and what it means for us to be holy. George A. Ma]oney SJ last wrote for us in May-June 2002. His address is Contemplative Ministries; 13338 Del Monte Drive, #3-K; Seal Beach, California 90740. Revie~ for Religiou~ We need to ask God to show what holiness really means: his holiness first and then our own holiness. God's power can be seen and heard in nature, in lightning and thunder and rushing waters. But in describing God's holi-ness we are, in a way, trying to touch the "insideness" of God, the source of everything good and beautiful that we ever see or hear or feel. God's holiness is God in his per-fection as infinitely loving. Holiness is the totality of God's being moving outward as gift toward the other, toward human beings and angels. We read in the Book of Leviticus: For it is I, Yahweh, who am your God. You have been sanctified and have become holy because I am holy. Yes, it is I, Yahweh, who have brought you out of Egypt to be your God; you, therefore, must be holy because I am holy. (Lv 11:44-45) God Is Holy in Things and Places and Persons Moses fell back before the holiness of Yahweh in the burning bush. That was "holy ground" (Ex 3:4-6). God, who is holy, had chosen to be present to Moses in that place. No human hand was permitted to touch the Ark of the Covenant because God's holy presence was there. The Ark was kept in the Holy of Holies, a special place where God would communicate with his people. Yet, when for their sanctification God's holiness touches angels and human beings, he is present more perfectly to them. He enters upon a self-giving that allows us human beings to be sharers through love in his very own nature. This has always been God's purpose in creating us: "Be holy in all you do, since it is the Holy One who has called you. As ScripUare says: 'Be holy for I am holy'" (1 P 1:15-16). God calls us to receive his holiness and thereby to become holy too, opening ourselves to his outpouring 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy We have no way of experiencing the fullness of God's holiness except in Jesus Christ. love, to his gift to us of himself and of our neighbor. We are called to be saints--holy people--sanctified by God's holiness (see Rm 1:7; 1 Co 1:2). "We have been called by God to be holy, not to be immoral" (1 Th 4:7). God chose us from the beginning to be holy by the sanctify-ing power of the Holy Spirit (2 Th 2:13) and to "become his adopted children through Jesus Christ" (Ep 1:5). Jesus is holy, and we too are called to be holy. We have no way of experiencing the fullness of God's holi-ness except in Jesus Christ. He teaches us about God's holiness, the actions of a loving Father concerned with all the details of our daily existence. Now we know what God's holiness is like. It is like the holi-ness of Jesus as recorded in the New Testament. Jesus' Holiness and His Growing Holiness The holiness of Jesus consisted first in his having been sanctified by the Holy Spirit. He was the gift of the Father through the Spirit. All that he had Jesus received from his Father. He could not act on his own, but only on what he received from his Father (Jn 5:19, 30; Jn 8:28). It is the Father who sent him into the world and consecrated him, making him holy in order to bring the holiness of God to the world (Jn 10:36). Jesus was sinless because he yielded to God's Holy Spirit within him and struggled against any urge toward self-centered independence (Heb 4:1). From the Synoptic Gospel accounts of Jesus' temptations, we realize, as essential to their meaning, that he had to struggle in his heart to reach the state of loving, humble submission to his Father that eventually would mean his ignominious Review for Religious death on the cross. Jesus would grow in holiness as he fought the Prince of Darkness for dominance, both in his own life and in the lives of those he healed of demonic possession. His struggle would end only on the cross, when he was lifted up and his adversary definitively thrown down from his throne and stripped of his power. From the New Testament we see that Jesus' increas-ing holiness is in accord with the Father's Spirit in him, giving him strength to unmask and defeat the devil. He seeks and confronts the evil one and conquers him. Jesus' Temptations The three temptations of Jesus in the desert empha-size his complete attachment to his Father. Jesus under-goes temptations--much like Eve's, the feminine side of all human beings--to seize the initiative in an aggres-siveness that would deny God's sovereignty over him. Jesus refused to feed himself with anything but God's word. "You must worship the Lord God, and serve him alone" (Dr 6:13, Lk 8). The Gospels present the peak of Jesus' holiness as an exodus experience. As he grew in holiness, he was tempted to hold on to his own life rather than surrender that life on behalf of sinful mankind. Imaging the Father's holiness in his own human development, Jesus grew in each event as he sought not his own but his Father's will. "Here I am! I am coming.to obey your will" (Heb 10:9). Jesus' holiness prompted him to a joyful response to do all that his human consciousness revealed to him as falling within the area of the Father's wish or even, more sensitively, what would please his Father more (Jn 8:29). Jesus suffers his most severe sense of abandonment on the cross when he cries out loudly to his Father: "My God, my God, why have you deserted me?" (Mk 15:34). In spite of his greatest temptation to doubt, in the seem-ing absence of the Father's loving approval, Jesus pushes 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy himself to new depths of holiness and loving surrender. In such agony Jesus attains in his human condition the holiness of God. This is the crowning in human form of the Trinity's holiness, ultimate self-giving to mankind (through abandonment and death). Holy through the Holy Spirit Jesus at the Last Supper promised that he would pour out the holy and sanctifying Spirit after his death on the cross (Jn 14:16-21). If Jesus, by the Holy Spirit, is glo-rified by the Father and is able to bestow his sanctifying Spirit upon his believers through his final sufferings, it is no less also the Holy Spirit who effects the holiness of Jesus in the days and years of his earlier human development. We can see from the Gospel narrative of his baptism how Jesus, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, was led further toward full holiness by John the Baptist in the Jordan. As Jesus came out of the water, he received a vision of the Spirit as a gentle dove and heard his Father declare from on high: "You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you" (Mk 1:11). Jesus in his humanity is swept up into an ecstatic oneness with the Father. Heaven and earth have been closed by Adam's first sin in the garden. Now God's communicating pres-ence has passed through the barrier of sin, and Jesus, God's holiness, stands within the human family. Brightness and darkness are brought together in Jesus. The presence and sanctifying action of the Holy Spirit in the life of Jesus begins with Jesus' physical exis-tence. If Paul could appeal to the Corinthians' inner dig-nity because their bodies were holy--"Your body, you know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 6:19)- how much more was this a living experience of Jesus in his body! Jesus was the most free human being that ever existed because the Spirit in him linked him with the Review for Religious Father in myriad ways. Seeing his Father in the materi-ality of his body and in the physical world around him, Jesus enjoyed a serenity and contentment in being there with the Father. Sin sets up a physical, psychical, and spiritual "ner-vousness" in us because it hinders our seeing the loving presence of God in these connections. Instead, sin inclines us to exploit them, as is evident in our abuse of our appetites for food, drink, sex, material and intellec-tual possession, honor--in a word, our pride of life. Finding the Father in All of Creation Jesus was free to find the Father's providential presence in all events and circumstances inasmuch as Jesus was continuously the expressed Word of the Father. In his humanity Jesus had spe-cial gratitude and love by rea-son of his Father's gift to him of intimate friends. He praised God in the gentle love he had for his mother, Mary, for Joseph, John, Mary and Martha, Peter and Andrew, and his other apostles and followers. Yet the freedom brought to him by God's Spirit gave Jesus an inner austerity in all of his human relationships. They were not merely gifts for him to use happily in glorifying the Father; they were diaphanous places in which to find the Father's love and then reciprocate that love by serving everyone he encountered. We cannot understand Jesus in his personal poverty and his preference for the physically, psychically, and spiritually poor people to whom he went and brought healing unless we enter into the conscious relationship Jesus knew that his Father's love for all people everywhere included full awareness of their absolute poverty. 62.3 2003 Maloney ¯ Be Holy as God Is Holy that Jesus entered as the Father's Word on earth. Jesus knew that his Father's love for all people everywhere included full awareness of their absolute poverty. We human beings are radical and ontological nonentities except for God's love poured out in unselfish creation. God is absolute love because he is perfectly holy and self-giving. Jesus' Poverty and Service of Others Jesus lived poorly, by the inner richness of his Father's continued gif~ of himself to him. This poverty can be called humility. Jesus was nothing; the Father was all. Jesus was absolutely poor because no thing possessed him. He was possessed only by his Father, and so he saw created things only as external indications of the inner emptiness of human beings before the Allness of his Father. Jesus served others because that is love in action. He was expressing in human ways the love of God the Father for them. The Father's compassion for his children was the source of Jesus' compassion for them. Jesus burned with desire to actualize the Father's presence in the life of everyone he met (Lk 12:49). He went about doing good, especially by healing all types of sickness and dis-ease. He was never more the perfect image of the heav-enly Father than when he saw the multitudes scattering and fainting like sheep without a shepherd and was moved with mercy and compassion (Mt 9:36). Jesus' Prayer Jesus' holiness is shown also in his prayer life. The Gospels give us much teaching by Jesus on how to pray, but they also give us nuanced pictures of Jesus at prayer. He prays to his Father in the company of his disciples, but also alone. The Evangelists have grasped the intrin-sic relation of Jesus' prayer and his holiness. From their descriptions of Jesus in prayerful communion with his Review for Religious Father, we see that his prayer is always linked with the coming of God's kingdom. Jesus usually prays in solitude, away from his disci-ples, deeply immersed for long periods, even all night. He seeks the face of his Father in praise and thanksgiv-ing, in petitions that follow from his desire that God's kingdom come. In such prayer Jesus touches the holi-ness of the Father and is filled with a like holiness that lives to serve the Father, his Abba. The Holy Spirit fills him with this filial trust in the holiness of his Father, and thus, from his constant experience of the Spirit, Jesus teaches others to pray to the Father in the Spirit, con-vinced that they would be granted everything they needed for their total happiness as the Father's children. Living in the Holy of Holies In awe of God's holiness, we are not to strive to be holy by doing "holy" deeds or works of holiness as though God needs us and our sacrifice. Rather, we are to obey the divine Word, enfleshed for love of us to image for us God's holiness, and to let ourselves be directed by his Holy Spirit within us. To enter into God's holiness, the place to go is our heart. By Jesus' incarnate oneness with us, by his death and resurrection and the gift of his Spirit, we now have the right to approach with boldness "into the sanctuary" by the blood of Jesus, our high priest. We have been saved by Jesus' gift of himself on the cross. Humbled by God's holiness revealed in Jesus Christ, we are enabled to be continually and joyously transformed into holiness as we seek to live lives of Christlike holiness. We are God's work of art, created in Christ Jesus "to live the good life as from the begin-ning he meant us to live it" (Ep 2:10). Now we can more easily, and in greater depth, understand how God's holi-ness makes it possible for God to be merciful towards 237 62.3 2003 Maloney * Be Holy as God Is Holy us. In our relationship with God and with others, holi-ness and mercy can never be separated. Father, Son, and Spirit: Holiness and Love Jesus is holy as his Father is holy because, in his dying on our behalf in obedience to his loving Father, his love for God reaches love's peak. He is holy by being one with God's holiness. He becomes God's holy Word in his obedience unto death (Ph 2:8). As Jesus became holy by learning obedience, so we also must do: "Although he was Son, he learned to obey through suffering; but, having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal sal-vation and was acclaimed by God with the title of high priest of the order ofMelchizedek" (Heb 5:8-10). When affliction comes, we are not to be constantly asking whether we accept the inevitable and submit to a will we cannot resist. Our true, loving question must be: Do we choose the will of God to be our chief good--do we delight in Christ's life principle as ours too? "My delight is to do your will, O God." Jesus sanctified himself and us by doing his Father's will constantly, to his life's end. The will of God is also our sanctification. Be holy, as God--Father, Son, and Holy Spirit--is holy. Summer Transformation August rays insinuate themselves, burrow under epidermal sheath like God's grace, work their transforming till, ripened and marked as sun votary, you preach wordlessly the gospel of repentance for a pale and chilly life. Patricia Schnapp RSM Review for Religious RENI~E NIENABER Praying with the Body: Not Running Ahead of Grace (/~("~'~ on't run ahead of grace." This truth, learned from one of my greatest teachers of prayer, insists that we can find holiness only as God grants. Even though passive prayer has often been considered the higher path, people who are highly sensate might stay in active prayer much of their lives. St. John of the Cross warns against moving too quickly from active prayer. For many, cooperating with this wisdom can involve using our bodies in prayer. Respect for God's Gifts Rationales for prayer with the body can be found in Scripture, theology, and psychology. Respect for the body. We are not pure spirits. Many heresies would have us look with disdain upon the body as the source of temptation. Within this masterpiece, however, the Spirit of God dwells. According to the creeds we profess, our bodies will, like Jesus Christ's, be raised in glory. Fundamental knowledge of God came Ren~e Nienaber SND wrote about lectio divina in our January-February 2002 issue. Her address is St. Mary of the Assumption Parish; 121 West Main Street; Alexandria, Kentucky 41001. 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body A through our parents' bodies: a mother's gentle breast-feeding and a father's strong cradling. In many ways we already pray with our bodies: genuflecting, bowing, taking holy water, telling our rosary beads, making the sign of the cross, receiving Communion in our hands. Great people in the Hebrew Scriptures used their bodies in prayer: Miriam praising God with the timbrel, Moses praying with arms outstretched, and David dancing before the ark. The psalms especially show a people entering bodily into prayer: seeking God's face (27:8), thirsting for God (63:1), panting with open mouth (119:131). They also show a God who deals with the bodies of people, literally or metaphorically: leading them beside still waters (23:2), setting them high on a rock (27:5), hiding them under solicitous wings (63:8), making divine words sweet to the taste (119:103). No disdain for the human body in this kind of prayer! Hebrew prayer shows great respect for the human body's goodness, not the disdain espoused by Docetism, Gnosticism, Platonism, and Neoplatonism. Respect for the unity of body/soul/spirit. Such respect stands against dualism and moves us towards integration. Each part of this threefold "companionship" affects the others. Eastern religions teach that what we do with our bodies affects our prayer (for example, sitting straight and breathing attentively). We will pray better or worse, depending on the involvement of our bodies. If this is true, then we cannot find God by escaping the body. Respect for the incarnation and resurrection. Both of these doctrines involve Christ's body. His humanity belongs to the essence of our faith. Jesus prayed with his body: lifting his eyes to heaven and blessing little children. We, like him, will not find God by rejecting the body. Respect for the g~'eat commandment. Based on the Shema of the Hebrew Scriptures, our call is to love God with our Review for Religious whole self, with all of who we are, not just from our eyebrows up. In daily life we show love through our bodies: gestures, gifts, smiles, and so forth. God invites us to do the same in prayer. Respect for ourselves as images of a creative God. Praying with the body helps us to be playful like children. Childlikeness can keep the juices of prayer flowing. With the Spirit's gifts of wonder and awe, a child/adult can be ever ready for the surprises of God in prayer, like finding a treasure in a field. Respect for praying "from where we're at." Catholics are sacramental people. In part this means experiencing God as coming to us through the stuff of this earth. Prayer that begins with the body can penetrate into the inner self. Like osmosis, the senses can lead us from the exterior to the interior, from the touchable to the untouchable: the transcendent reality of God. Thus prayer involving the body can be a bridge from active to passive prayer. These two forms walk hand in hand, not against each other. To pray "from where we're at" also involves praying from "God experiences." Created reality invites us to pray with our bodies, as in John Denver's song about Annie filling up his senses. How often have we praised God with our eyes for an orange-red sunset, with our mouth for our favorite chocolate dessert, with our nose for the evergreen freshness,. With our ears for the ocean roar. God is the original "surround sound." We can get lost in ecstasy through such continuing revelations of the divine. Our call is to love God with our whole self, with all of who we are, not just from our eyebrows up. 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the B~dy Blessings of Body Prayer Besides these six forms of respect, prayer with the body can be an antidote to one of the main complaints about prayer: that it is boring. God wants our prayer to bring us life "to the full" (In 10:10). Prayer helps us dispose ourselves. God is the initiator of prayer and the responder to our desires. We can, however, prepare ourselves for the gift of prayer with our very bodies. For example, with our eyes we can gaze lovingly upon a crucifix, icon, or sunrise. With our hands we can touch bur heart or ears. With our mouth we can smile at God or whisper words of Scripture. Prayer helps us keep attentive. Too ubiquitous is the temptation not to pray because "I'm too distracted" or "Nothing happens." Involving our bodies in prayer can lessen those excuses because the pray-er remains grounded. For example, in praying about Jesus healing the woman with a hemorrhage, we can involve our body in such ways as these: coming before Jesus trembling and hopeful, reaching out to touch his garment, or pleading with our face for the gift of God's healing. Prayer helps us remember blessings. When prayer remains too cerebral, the pray-er can seldom recall the experience of God's grace. Involving the body can help the mind to focus rather than flounder. The experience of prayer is crystallized, thus becoming a memento of God's goodness. Forty Possibilities for Praying with the Body ¯ Hold a rock and remember examples of God's steadfast love. ¯ Hold a rock and consider how God might want to change your heart. ¯ Hold a pearl and feel how precious you are to God. ¯ Hold a pearl and consider how much God is your pearl of great price. ¯ Hold a pearl and be grateful for all the pearls in your life (people, experiences, events). ¯ Hold a pillow to your chest, trying Review for Religious to experience God or Jesus as a nursing mother for yourself, someone in special need, or even an enemy. ¯ Hold two coins tightly, like the widow's mite, representing what you do not want to let go of. When ready, release each coin. ¯ Hold a small seed (like a mustard seed) and ask for growth in faith, confidence, love, etc. ° Hold a seashell and ask to be more aware of God's dwelling in the deepest chamber of your heart. ¯ Hold an apple and know yourself to be the apple of God's eye. ¯ Hold a cactus and flower and ask God to bring life to your dryness. ¯ Hold a "lily of the field" and know how much more valuable you are to God than that. ° Hold a crucifix to feel the gift of Jesus' self-giving love. ¯ Walk slowly, aware that you journey lovingly with God, like Adam in the garden. ¯ Walk, aware that God is at your right hand, so you have nothing to fear. ¯ Walk, aware of the challenge to go the "extra mile" with God or another. ¯ Walk under the stars and moon. Delight in God's greatness and beauty. ¯ Walk slowly, just to restore your inner harmony. ° Sit in a rocking chair or porch swing, and allow yourself to be lulled by God. ¯ Sit with your shoes off, with reverence, like Moses before the burning bush. ¯ Sit near a tree whose roots are partly exposed. Touch the roots and the bark and know your groundedness in God. ¯ Squeeze modeling clay to get in touch with God's desire to fashion you further. ¯ Form modeling clay into some specific image God might be forming you into now. ¯ Form modeling clay into the image you would like to have of God. ° Dance your personal Magnificat or Gloria. ¯ Dance your own DayenuI after writing a list of people and experiences for which you are grateful. ¯ Whistle, skip, or show your delight with God in other ways. ¯ Inhale slowly, realizing that your breath is the very ruah of God flowing through you. ° Inhale what you need from God (peace, forgiveness, etc.). Exhale the opposite (unrest, 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body unforgiveness, etc.). ¯ Inhale, letting God speak a word of love. Exhale, returning that word. ¯ Inhale, simply breathing in the goodness of God. ¯ Sit in the breeze. Let it blow through you as the Spirit wills. ¯ Sit in the breeze. Just let it surround you with God's gende presence. ¯ Sit in the breeze or in front of a fan. Feel Jesus breathing the Holy Spirit into you. ¯ Prostrate yourself to get in touch with your littleness, sinfulness, or need for God. ¯ Lie face up, as if paralyzed, accepting your need for God at every moment. ¯ Smile at God and feel God's smile in return. ¯ Look in a mirror and delight in the person God has created, is creating, and will continue to create. ¯ Tighten your fist in confidence against your enemies or fears. ¯ Cup your hands to your ears to emphasize a willingness to listen to God. Be attentive to a storm, and let the reality of God's power penetrate your being. More Suggestions, Involving the Easter Symbols Water ¯ Drink very slowly, using this mantra or a similar one: "Give me to drink." ¯ Sit by flowing waters or running water, and let the sound bring God's calm. ¯ Splash water on yourself to bring God's refreshment. ¯ Sprinkle water freely on your head to experience that God does not give the Spirit "by measure." ¯ Enter into a soft rain. Experience in it God's gentle, abundant presence. ¯ Let rain remind you that God sends "rain on the just and unjust." ¯ Be attentive to a storm, and let the reality of God's power penetrate your being. ¯ Pour water over your feet as if Jesus were ministering to you. White Garment ¯ Be aware of your clothes next to your skin; sense that God touches you even more intimately. ¯ Wrap your hands in strips of cloth, like Review for Religious Lazarus. Let God unbind you. ¯ Place a sheet or blanket over your head to feel your own overshadowing by the Holy Spirit. ¯ Place a sheet or blanket around your shoulders and body to feel the protection of God's "wings." ¯ Move with a blanket around your shoulders and feel that you, too, can fly on eagle's wings. ¯ Touch a bedspread tassel, like touching Jesus' garment, while praying for healing like the woman with the hemorrhage. Light/Fire ¯ Squint and let the rays of a candle penetrate your heart or mind with healing. ¯ Hold a candle near your body to feel the warmth of God within. ¯ Let a flame represent the Spirit of God. Ask for wisdom in a present confusion. ° Let the candle flame open your eyes to see the good in someone whom you do not like right now. ¯ Sit wordlessly before the sunrise or sunset, and use a mantra such as "Fill me with your light." ¯ Walk in midday. As you see the sun peeking through the trees, think of God as winking at you. ¯ Pray in the dark of night with only a vigil light. ¯ Pray one of the biblical stories of a blind person. Do this in the dark or with your eyes tighdy covered. Hands/Oil ¯ Hold your own hand to get in touch with God's strength, comfort, nearness, etc. ¯ Touch your heart or carotid artery. Let every pulse be a prayer of love to God. ¯ Touch with your hands or Bible the parts of your body that need healing (for example, eyes for being judgmental, mouth for talking about others, ears for listening to gossip, etc.). ¯ "Anoint" yourself with oil in areas that need healing. ° Rub in scented lotion to remind yourself that you are to be the aroma of Christ. ¯ Pour oil on your feet, representing the feet of someone you need to forgive. Bread/Wine ¯ Hold a piece of bread or loaf of bread, asking, "Give me (us) this bread always." ¯ Hold different kinds of bread. Break them and get in touch with your brokenness and that of others. ¯ Hold a loaf of bread and 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Pra~in~ with the Bod~ know that God will not give you a stone if you ask for bread. ¯ Take a clear glass of water and add red food coloring, representing the change at Cana and in yourself. ¯ Sip wine very slowly, letting it rest in your mouth. "Taste and see the goodness of the Lord." ¯ Sit in a grape arbor to pray the passage of the vine and branches. Two Extended Examples of Praying with the Body Psalm 23. Giv~ yourself plenty of time to enter into this beloved psalm. A day could easily be spent on it. If possible, pray Psalm 23 out of doors. The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want; I will never be in need; I lack notbing.--Try to feel how God has faithfully cared for you through people, events, and other blessings. I lie in green grass, verdant pastures, lush meadows.--If you can, lie down outside; otherwise, embrace the verdure in some physical way. For example, hug a leaf to your heart. Stand or sit, if possible, beneath the shade of a large tree. The shepherd leads me beside restful waters, peaceful streams, quiet pools.--If possible, go outside where you can be close to living waters. Otherwise, use a fountain or simply the faucet in your room. Spend time listening to the flow of the waters until you begin to feel calm. The shepherd refreshes my soul, revives my soul, restores my souL--To "help" the shepherd revive you, splash different parts of your body. The shepherd guides me in right paths, in paths of righteousness, in paths of virtue.--Walk slowly and mindfully, trying to feel the presence of the shepherd at your right hand. Even though I walk in a gloomy valley, a dark valley, the darkest valley . . . --Get in touch with any darkness in your life right now. Then close or cover your eyes and continue walking. With his rod and staff the shepherd gives me courage, Review for Religious comfort, security.--Use something to represent the "rod and staff" (like a broom handle or a walking stick). Walk, still in the darkness, with the safety of the walking stick. You could also sit with the handle against your back, trying to feel God's presence and comfort. You spread for me a table, a feast, a banquet.--Eat some of your favorite food. Yearn for the Eucharistic feast and the final banquet in God's reign. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows, runs over, brims oven--Use lotion to "anoint" your head, heart, gut, or any part of you that needs God's abundance. If you lack lotion, pour water on yourself, even on your head. Surely goodness and kindness, goodness and mercy, goodness and love, follow me always.--Con-clude as you began, getting in touch with God's abundance. This could involve returning to some significant ex-perience during this prayer, like listening to the water or pouring water on yourself. If you cannot fully accept this goodness that God promises, let God speak this verse to your heart. And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever, for my whole life long, for as long as I live.--Again get in touch with the presence of the shepherd in your past. Know that the same shepherd has blessed your life with this psalm in the present. Be assured that you can depend on this faithful shepherd throughout your future. Amen! Walk slowly and mindfully, trying to feel the presence of the shepherd at your right hand. The Song of Songs might be the backdrop for an extended date with Jesus--at least a whole day, perhaps a whole week of retreat. The suggestions that follow are 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body geared for an extended length of time. They are intended to give numerous supporting ideas to the text, not specific suggestions on how to pray the Song of Songs itself. The setting. Bring in some favorite flowers and food. Play special love music between prayer times. Burn a fragrant candle or some incense. Anoint yourself with precious lotion. Dress in your favorite clothes. Getting started. Ask that you heart might be ravished. Ask to grow in desire for God; ask to know God's desire for you. Pray while lying on your bed, porch swing, or chaise lounge. Put something under your head to represent the lover's left hand there. During the day. Take a walk "hand in hand" with your Beloved. Sing/dance favorite love songs from your era; let Jesus sing back to you. Draw a mandala2 to express your love. Spend time looking into the eyes of the beloved, while the beloved gazes back at you. Whisper your words of love. Smile to your beloved. Mantra. "You are my Beloved in whom I am well pleased." Experience this mantra in different ways. See it in the beauty of the flowers. Taste it in your special food or drink. Feel it in the warmth of a candle. Smell it in the scent of incense. Touch it in your favorite clothes. Hear it in the music you play or sing. Journaling. Write your favorite names for Jesus and/or his for you. Write your own figures of speech for your beloved; write his for you. Compose a love letter to Jesus. Meal ideas. When you eat, think of being brought into your beloved's banqueting table. Eat slowly and linger after the meal. Eucharistic connection. Ask that your heart may burn within you as Jesus reveals himself in the breaking of the bread. When you receive from the cup, realize that you are drinking the wine of divine love. Fast for an extended period before Eucharist in order to enter more fully into communion, hunger more for God's loving presence, Review for Religious taste the divine goodness, and experience God's abundance. Other Suggestions Some psalms are particularly conducive to body prayer: Psalms 16:5-11; 23; 27; 63:1-8; 91; 131; 139:1-18; 150. Among the best Isaiah readings for prayer with the body are Isaiah 35:1-6; 40:29-31; 43:1-4; 49:14-16; 55:1- 13; 66:10-14a. Other excellent sensate passages from the prophets include Jeremiah 17:7-8; 18:1-6; Ezekiel 36:26- 27; 37:1-14. A sampling of helpful gospel passages: Matthew 5:13- 16; 6:25-34; 7:1-12; 14:22-33; Mark 4:35-41; 5:25-34; 8:22-26; 10:46-52; Luke 1:26-38; 5:3-10; John 2-1-11; 4:7-15; 11:38-44; 13:2-17; 15:1-11; 20:11-18; 20:19-23. The ideas offered here can be useful for running with grace, not ahead of it. They are useful for sensates as well as for intuitives who are developing their sensate function. Depending on the person's disposition, physical condition, and prayer setting, some suggestions will work and others will not. Many ideas listed here, however, have blessed my directees and me for many years. I trust that others who are willing to follow their own creative childlikeness will experience God profoundly in'body prayer. Although the kairos3 of a retreat setting works best, any place or time can be an occasion for the self-revelation of God in our ordinary lives. For centuries St. Paul has called us to use our bodies "for the glory of God" (1 Co 6:20). In our contemporary setting, Tilden Edwards (from the Shalem Institute) says, "Amazing things happen when our bodies join our minds in opening to God." Notes ~ Dayenu is a song from the Jewish Passover service. In it the refrain "that would have been enough" is a response to the abundance of God's 62.3 2003 Nienaber ¯ Praying with the Body blessings (for example, "If you had just fed us with manna from the desert, that would have been enough"). 2 Mandala is a Sanskrit word meaning circle or center. It is an ancient symbol of wholeness. Making a mandala (a circular drawing) is a way to come into contact with deeper wisdom from the center within, the unconscious. 3 Kairos is a Greek word meaning the "right time," a time of opportunity. It can suggest fulfillment or the timelessness of eternity, where God's presence abounds. Piet~ Her head is slightly bowed, the gravity of love bending her to him, his death a weight more ponderous than stone. Her hand is stretched out, helpless to account for what the world has come to. What does that open, lifted hand convey? Does it implore the mercy of a hidden God, or beg to know the outcome of a plan incomprehensible to her? Does her hand commend her Son to us and plead for pity, for consideration of his innocence, for justice? I see that hand outstretched for us to take, reminded that her suffering is much like ours: in pain she, too,. is plunged in silence, brokenhearted as she contemplates the loss of all she loves. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious ELIZABETH A. DREYER Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The desert fathers and mothers had a tradition of going to their abba or amma for a "word" of wisdom. When I was asked to give this 150th-anniversary address, the word prophecy came immediately to mind. Prophecy has been a constant of religious life. Women and men reli-gious, speaking prophetic words, have be-queathed the church and society a legacy of reform and renewal. My interest in prophecy emerged from my reflection on moral courage, which it seemed to me is in rather short supply these days--in society, in business, in education, in politics, and in the church. The road from moral courage to prophecy is not a long one. Who could have predicted even a year or two ago the church's current need of prophetic voices? Numbers of people have seen the prophetic call as central to the charism of Elizabeth A. Dreyer, professor in the Department of Religious Studies of Fairfield University, first presented this paper in September 2002 to inaugurate the 150th year of the Sisters of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin in Petersham, Massachusetts. Her address is Department of Religious Studies; Fairfield University; Fairfield, Connecticut 06430. 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life religious life.1 Though everyone in the church is called to a prophetic life, institutes of vowed religious have had a distinctive and notable prophetic role down through the ages. It is a challenge to speak of prophecy, for prophecy means spealdng in the name of God. Being a prophet is akin to falling in love: you cannot decide to be a prophet. Nor can you declare that you are one or even be sure that someone else truly is one. The whole business is rife with the dangers of egotism. But there is also danger in refusing to accept the gift of prophecy, in not praying for the courage to be a prophet, and in neglecting to support those around us who are prophets. Timidity and self-protection stem from the knowledge--whether conscious and unconscious--that prophetic activity is dangerous to one's health. And yet the Christian life calls us to learn about and imitate the prophets who have gone before us and on whose shoulders we stand. Our Jewish heritage includes an impressive list of prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, Hosea, Amos, Micah, and others. For Christians, John the Baptist, preparing the way for Jesus, is the prophetic model par excellence. But above all is Jesus, the Jew who fully embodied his tradition of prophetic compassion and courage, dying for his love of the outcast and the stranger, and confronting the religious status quo when it worked against the good of the people. More recently, interest in women's history has awakened us to the lives of prophetic women in the church. Historian Karen L. King notes that in every century women have exercised leadership in Christian communities and that their leadership has been contested. In the first centuries most of the clear cases of women's leadership "based their legitimacy on claims to prophetic experience," but Jo Ann McNamara suggests that, by the mid 3rd century, prophetic voices were overshadowed by Review for Religious clerical organization and leadership? At the Second Vatican Council, when Cardinal Suenens wanted to include in Lumen gentium a section on the share of every baptized person in Christ's prophetic office, Cardinal Ruffini argued that an emphasis on charism could endanger the institutional church.3 Happily today we look not only to John the Baptist and Paul but also to Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Phoebe, Priscilla, and Maximilla; martyrs Agatha, Lucy, Theodora, Perpetua and Felicity, and their 20th-century sisters Ita Ford, Maura Clarke, Jean Donovan, and Dorothy Kazel. Each community has its own list of prophetic figures. The Sisters of the Assumption have founding sisters Leocadie Bourgeois, Julie Heon, Mathilde Leduc, and Hedwige Buisson and later figures such as Alice Mignault and Marguerite Gauthier. More recent prophetic voices of women religious include Margaret Traxler (+2002), Theresa Kane, Mary Luke Tobin, Margaret Brennan, Anita Caspary, Mary Daniel Turner, and Joan Chittister. At this historical moment, how are we to think about the prophetic voice? What are its potentials and pitfalls? Endeavoring to be faithful to the gospel and God's reign on earth, how are we to support prophetic thinking and activity in the 21st century--for the health of each religious community, for religious life as a whole, for the church, society, and the world? As a laywoman I have been inspired by the prophetic lives of women religious. I have learned from your example, and I am privileged to stand with you and for you in your commitment to the life of the people of God. How are we to think about the prophetic voice? What are its potentials and pitfalls ? 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The Prophetic Vocation In an article on Hildegard of Bingen, Colman O'Dell describes the prophet's role as one of personal encounter.4 The prophet receives a special summons, an unforgettable experience that God has entrusted to her a message that she must reveal, either in words or by her very life. The prophet is one who yields herself to God as handmaid, witness, or sign. The summons can be to something dramatic and large scale or, for most of us, something ordinary and small scale, to be carried out over a long period of time. Thomas Merton describes the prophet as one who lives in direct submission to the Holy Spirit in order that, by her life, actions, and words, she may be a sign of God in the world. Jean Leclercq speaks of the prophet as a person of neither vague ideas nor ready-made solutions. Rather, prophets are the ones who by the vigor of their concepts and the intensity of their contemplation compel others to act, giving them worthy reason for doing so. Abraham Heschel describes the prophet as one who intensifies responsibility, who is impatient of excuse and contemptuous of pretense and self-pity, who is an exegete "of existence from a divine perspective." The prophet is one who is sensitive to evil and who feels fiercely,s In his classic 1978 work, The Prophetic Imagination, Walter Brueggemann sees prophecy as being concerned with change and how it comes about. The-prophetic task is to get people to have a perceptive consciousness that will stand against the dehumanizing and death-dealing aspects of our culture.6 Brueggemann describes the enemy of prophetic consciousness as Solomon's royal consciousness in which God's freedom is traded for God's accessibility, an economy of equality is traded for an economy of affluence, and a politics of justice is traded for a politics of oppression. The Solomonic regime silenced criticism through prohibition backed by heavy-handed sanction--or simply ignored it. In such a situation Revieva for Religious the gift of freedom is overtaken by a yearning for order and security.7 As Americans living in the aftermath of 9/11, we know well the seduction of royal consciousness. A prophet is one who understands language and its distinctive power to evoke newness--"fresh from the word.''8 Brueggemann speaks in terms of binary pairs of death and new life: numbness/criticism vs. energy/passion (compassion); death/cross vs. life/resurrection; grief/mourning vs. praise/joy. The prophet calls for an alternative consciousness and an alternative community. Forms of coercion and totalitarianism try to curtail fresh new possibilities and end up diminishing us as human beings. As a remedy, Brueggemann calls for a reappropriation of the biblical prophetic tradition to its full power and authenticity. The Hebrew prophets used poetry to present their vision and inspire listeners to respond. "It is the vocation of the prophet to keep alive the ministry of imagination, to keep on conjuring and proposing alternative futures to the single one the king wants to urge as the only thinkable one," Brueggemann says. He reminds us that worship and praise are ways to cut through ideology and recover compassion.9 Jo Ann McNamara concludes her massive treatment on the history of religious life with these words: "In the end, religious life is about worship and the positive benefits that worship brings to the world and its maker.''~° God is the creator of the world; we depend on God's loving compassion and power to make all things new. Praise of God is a wellspring of prophetic living. Discontinuity: Becoming Agents of Change In what follows I explore two particular elements of this prophetic way of living: discontinuity and contemplation. The prophetic voice interrupts "business as usual." It calls attention to, and says no to, the powers 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The task of prophecy is to encourage people to be involved in the history of their time. of dehumanization wherever they may be. The prophet sees that the present arrangement need not always be so. This vision might apply to the way religious life is lived and structured, ways in which we think about and do ministry, ways that church structures and practice affect the people of God, ways we live as a society and as cifzens of the world. As I have said, the history of religious life reveals a steady stream of visionaries. One thinks of Jane Frances de Chantal, one of the first to question religious enclosure when it inhibited service in the world, and leaders of women's congregations in the mid 20th century who decided that education and worldly awareness would make sisters better teachers and better religious. Richarda Peters, Benedictine prioress in St. Joseph, Minnesota, from 1949 to 1961, encouraged her sisters to create study groups, earn academic degrees, update libraries, and subscribe to the New York Times. Her successor brought in television and encouraged the sisters to read Cardinal Suenens's The Nun in the World2~ The task of prgphecy is to encourage people to be involved in the history of their time. Brueggemann speaks about the visceral experience of waking up to the truth that things are not right. The light bulb goes on, and we wonder why we did not see that before. Pretending that things are fine is no longer an option. This awakening is often followed by feelings of disappointment, grief, and even betrayal. Bringing this hurt to public expression is an important step in dismantling the status quo and permitting a new reality, theological and social, to emerge.~2 Dorothee Soelle says that expressed complaint is the beginning of liberation.13 Review for Religious Prophetic agents of change live as if in a minefield. They may conjure up unwanted feelings of self-doubt: Who am I to demand and expect change? Most of us know that the risks are high. That prophets are not welcome in their own neighborhood is all too true. But, whether we ourselves are prophets or are attuned to those who are, the message can truly be "good news" to people. Even though the price is high, new vision energizes and creates new realities that can be trusted and relied upon. 14 Energy can even come from embracing the inscrutable darkness, trusting that something is on the move, even though I .may not see it.Is Waiting faithfully, with the anticipation of discovering a new way of being church, is prophetic activity. 16 We are also energized by the partisan nature of prophecy. Prophets do not function in the abstract, but always address persons in concrete historical situations. We become aware that God is free and acting for us in this moment, in this very community, in this geographic location. In the last thirty years, the extensive research on specific religious orders of women is gradually correcting past neglect, naming particular people and locations of prophetic activity in the history of religious life. 17 Looking at barriers to prophetic voice, Brueggemann examines the ways that satiation short-circuits passion. He reminds us that satiation--having too much and being full all the time--prevents our noticing that the king has no clothes. It dulls our capacity to be imaginative, caring, and passionate, to suffer, to live and die. We avoid facing up to failure; we shrink from the thought that there is an end to things as they have been. Consumerism tricks us into a false sense that "all is well." "The task of prophetic imagination," Brueggemann says, "is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord." ~8 This is as true of the church as it is of society and the world. 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life The dehumanizing aspects of our consciousness and practice can be mitigated. They have no final claim on us. The despair created by the king leads to hopelessness, infecting those who are excluded and those who have everything. But prophets like Second Isaiah, attesting God's radical freedom, announce genuine novelty to exiled Israel: God could have a change of mind. Ironically, those who know this kind of prophetic dying most painfully are the very persons who can convey hope most vigorously. And, just as grief undoes numbness, amazement confounds despair. Amazement, says Brueggemann, is the ultimate energizer. With the prophet's help, Israel finds that singing is again possible. Song indicates new life. All of us can recall not being able to sing because of depression or anger, satiety or preoccupation--and then discovering that we could sing again. Thus hope is born, and whenever it happens we are amazed.19 Jesus, coming after John the Baptist, is also a prophet. He lives at the margins and interacts with other marginal people who respond with awe---~om the shepherds at the birth to the crowds pursuing him in Mark's Gospel. Jesus' compassion takes many forms: he is not afraid to criticize the old order, he is ready to heal and forgive, he invites people to freedom from their enslavements. Newness brea~ in because "Jesus had the capacity to give voice to the very hurt that had been muted." Suffering made audible and visible produces hope; articulated grief is the gate of newness. The history of Jesus is the history of entering into the pain and giving it voice.2° Standing at the decisive end of royal consciousness is the cross. The Way of Contemplation A second hallmark of prophetic voice is living a contemplative existence. Many theologians, including the well-known German Jesuit Karl Rahner, have made the Review for Religious plea that, if Christians are to survive into the future, they will have to become mystics in the world. I think our experience in the post-Vatican II church and in the postmodern world teaches us that mysticism and prophecy are not clashing symbols but interdependent requirements for gospel living. In antiquity, prophecy was considered a natural role for women, and in the early Corinthian community, for example, prophecy and prayer were closely linked.2~ Thus, we are not called to be mystics or activists but mystics and activists. Sandra Schneiders underlines this truth when she describes religious life as a prophetic life-form characterized by two linked realities--contemplative immediacy to God and social marginality. Indeed, she calls prophetic action the public face of mysticism.22 Genuine prophetic speech and action are grounded inholiness. Prophecy requires that one take time to attend to God's word. It demands singleness of purpose, what we used to call "purity of heart." It requires allowing oneself to be penetrated by the Spirit, thus gaining a certain freedom from external authorities. Authentic solitude and silent presence before God allow us to become "tuned in" to the ways of God and, out of this knowledge, to lament and speak a word of vision and hope to the church and to the poor. Genuine prayer helps us avoid making egregiously wrong projections in God's name, and this can be painful. To begin with, it is not easy to identify subde projections by which we make God into our own image, and when we do discover them it is difficult to let them go. Most of us are comfortable with the God we have experienced and imagined, but, unless we become freer to let God be God, we dare not venture into the world of prophetic utterance. God is the source and wellspring of prophetic life and mission, and only contemplation keeps us intimately attuned to God's voice.23 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life A hallmark of the mystical encounter is a sense of being at one with the world. This is an enjoyable experience and needs to be celebrated when it breaks into our consciousness. But often we do not allow this sense of cosmic unity to lead us to effective community living. How do epiphanies of connectedness lead us to prophetic voice on behalf of human community? The basic answer is that contemplative existence grounds prophetic activity. Generally, one doeg not speak a prophetic word out of the blue, even though prophetic speech has an element of spontaneity, like a "late-breaking news bulletin" from God. But, like a concert pianist's spontaneity and apparent effortlessness, prophecy depends on a life of paying attention to God in prayer. Genuine contemplation does not lead toward withdrawal or removal from the world, but just the opposite. The prophet is one who immerses herself in the joys and especially the sufferings of the world. Prophetic solidarity translates into acknowledging the truth of the present moment, however bleak it may seem. Prophets are "sent to participate humbly and fragilely in the darkness, to experience it as their own, but without losing heart." This faithful perseverance leads one to seek solutions and victory, but not to give up when failure is the outcome. Such a life requires both realism and deep spiritual reserves.24 The prophet identifies and gives voice to the sins of one's culture: consumerism, rampant individualism, fragmentation, and alienation. In her book Woman Strength: Modern Church, Modern Woman, Joan Chittister underlines the need for communal leadership against a rampantly individualistic culture. She calls for a spirituality of contemplative cocreation in which we look at the causes of social brokenness and begin to see the link between the personal and the political. "We need to intervene for one another," she says. "We need a new worldview that puts the old one 'in new light.'''25 Review for Religqous A simple way to enhance contemplation in the service of prophetic solidarity with the poor is to dwell within the words of the Hebrew prophets to see what they mean for us today. We begin by asking: Who were these people? What were the circumstances of their lives? What were their doubts and fears? How did they overcome them? How did they manage to love so much that they risked life and limb to speak the prophetic word? Abraham Heschel asks: "What gave them the strength to 'demythologize' precious certainties, to attack what was holy, to hurl blasphemies at priest and king, to stand up against all in the name of God?" He says they "must have been shattered by some cataclysmic experience in order to be able to shatter others." 26 In a 1997 article Brueggemann describes how the biblical text becomes newly available, how it can erupt into new usage and be seized upon to illuminate the present. This moment can be both personal and communal. He writes: "What has been tradition, hovering in dormancy, becomes available experience . In that utterance, the word does lead reality." In order for the prophetic word to remain ever new, someone has to have imagination and intuition and the courage to assert that texts from the past can and must be "concretely relocated in and specifically readdressed to contemporary contexts." Persons like this "permit the explosion of text whereby the world is transformed.''27 Meditating deeply on the following passages can lead us in such a direction. Listen, I groan under the burden of you, as a wagon creaks under a full load. (Am 2:13) You that turn justice upside down and bring righteousness to the ground, you that hate someone who brings the wrongdoer to court and loathe the one who speaks the whole truth: 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Reh~ious Life for all this, because you levy taxes on the poor. though you have built houses of hewn stone, you shall not live in them. (Am 5:7-11) Spare me the sound of your songs; I cannot endure the music of your lutes. Let justice roll like a river and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream." (Am 5:23-24) Come now, let us argue it out, says the Lord. Though your sins are scarlet, they may become white as snow; though they are dyed crimson, they may yet be like wool. (Is 1:18) The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light: Light has dawned upon them, dwellers in a land as dark as death. Thou hast increased their joy and given them great gladness; Hey rejoice in your presence as people rejoice at harvest. (Is 9:2-3) These and other prophets past and present inspire us to become more and more convinced that a "new word" and "new light" are possible in every age. We must be the ones to assume the responsibility to remind the church that no one has a corner on God's word and that we dare not put a period, where there should be a comma, when it comes to God's plan for creation. Prophetic voices are needed in a church that "disputes how women can image Christ; restricts rather than promotes women's preaching; rejects dialogue with feminist theology; refuses to discuss women's leadership roles in liturgical assemblies; takes Review for Religious punitive action against women's public speech on controversial issues; considers qualified women ineligible for administrative offices and prohibits gender-inclusive texts in its public prayer."~s The Madeleva Manifesto, issued in 2000 by a group of Catholic theologians, states: "To women in ministry and theological studies, we say: Reimagine what it means to be the whole body of Christ. The way things are now is not the design of God." Past and Future One aspect of celebrating and being grateful for the past involves cocking an eye toward the future. W'e ask how we can honor the memories, the dedication, the love and accomplishments of those who have gone before us. How do we extend their legacy into a new millennium? This is no easy task. The prophetic voice of women religious may be intended primarily for the church, but it extends to the wider faith and civic communities. There are many challenges in the American church, in religious life, and in our culture. But, amidst the plethora of problems, one thing remains clear: The prophet must be attuned to the cause of the poor and suffering and act on their behalf. This is the rock upon which we stand and which must weather the slings and arrows of both ecclesial and social existence. Words of support and challenge are in order. While all baptized Christians are called to find inspiration and truth in the message of the Bible, women religious are eminently equipped to do so. The Spirit must be allowed to empower and embolden you, to give you confidence to The prophet must be attuned to the cause of the poor and suffering and act on their behalf. 62.3 2003 Dreyer * Prophetic Voice in Religious Life interpret the signs of the times in light of the gospel and speak and act on this knowledge. Your lifestyle, your experience, your prayer, your dedication, your commitment to discernment, all this enables and propels you to live and speak and act in Christ's name. It benefits not only your communities, but also the church and the world. Your prophetic voices are needed. Confronting a sinful church begins in humility, in the awareness that the sin I protest resides firmly in the center of my own heart. The church has an ambiguous record on this front. She has always embraced the principle that reform must be a constant dynamic in the church, but has often shied away from embracing this truth in action. The renowned 20th-century theologian Paul Tillich noted that a major Protestant criticism of the Roman church is the "exclusion of the prophetic self-criticism" by an authoritarian system.29 Awareness of the beam in one's own eye prevents making condescending judgments about others. But we cannot stop there. We must love God and the world and the church enough to be willing to cry out against the arrogance, deceit, and secrecy that burden most heavily the poor, the oppressed, the person in the pew. The danger in a time such as ours is to get distracted and deflected from hearing the call to prophecy. It is appropriate to commission studies and to meet and talk about the alarming statistics on religious life--health, membership, age, finances. But these concerns cannot be allowed to turn you in on yourselves, instead of outward to the reform of the church and the alleviation of suffering in the world. And, while we may need time-outs to step back from the fray and regroup, we must not give in to the temptation to withdraw out of legitimate frustration and anger. We need to act as individuals and as a community, embracing the responsibility and the honor of being agents of new vision. We cannot leave it Review for Religious to clerical leaders or to those with stronger, louder, deeper voices. The church needs women religious to resist being co-opted by the clerical culture of power, privilege, and denial. We need you to protest tactics of intimidation and silencing. And we hope and pray that you will have the courage to withstand the suffering of not being welcome in your own country. The Spirit blows where it will (1 Co 12:8-11), and I find that it often blows in the lives of mature, dedicated women religious. We laypersons, who have so often been empowered by you, are called to join you in this much-needed prophetic ecclesial mission. The prophet speaks also to culture. As we move from despising and fleeing culture to a critical embrace of it, we cast a loving, compassionate, contemplative gaze on it and on all cultures. Because we stand within our culture, not outside it, we are both tainted by its sins and enriched by its creations and discoveries. In simplicity and courage we need to protest against arrogance, individualism, and consumer ways. By living and thinking on the margins, we must speak a word of love to the most desperate, despised, and forgotten among us. Since we cannot fight excessive individualism with more individualism, we are cailed to figure out how to act communally, to marshal our resources to witness to the Spirit's plan to make all things new. We are called to take a prophetic stance toward the rampant individualism of our culture by acknowledging our shared vulnerability, respecting and loving our differences and yet inviting others to dwell in community with us. Mary Grey pleads with us to "take the responsibility of becoming the kinds of communities which challenge society and live by a transforming ethic, communities which 'shine like stars' because they are offering the word of life." 30 She locates hope in the witness of the community as prophet. In the face of dwindling resources and aging, this kind of fidelity 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life to the mission, this showing up each and every day to do the Lord's work, is in itself a prophetic act of enormous value and goodness. The prophet is many things. To be open to and touched by this gift is to be honored with an invitation from God. It is also to be burdened with heavy responsibility, to be ripped open and rejected, scorned and ridiculed. For the point of the prophet's life is not primarily her own burdens, but those of a suffering world in desperate need of hope. The prophetic voice both disturbs and gives hope, and this requires keeping close touch with God's purifying presence, seeing oneself as lowly and humbly developing the skills of discernment and surrender. We are grateful for those who have gone before us, and we celebrate our membership in the communion of saints. We are linked by the desire arid the promise to be faithful to living a gospel life in each generation. The witness of our ancestors in the faith calls us to recommit ourselves to be Christians who dare to voice a prophetic word in our time, who dare to offer a word of hope from our experience that God is faithful, and who dare to hear and respond to the gospel invitation: "Come to me all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light" (Mr 11:28-30). Notes ' See Sandra Schneiders [HM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context (New YorlotMahwah: Paulist Press, 2000) and Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic. Religious Life (New York/Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2001); Jo Ann Kay McNamara, Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996); Nadine Foley, ed., ~ourney in Faith and Fidelity: Women Shaping Religious Life for a Renewed Church (New York: Continuum, 1999); Joan Chittister, The Fire in These Ashes: A Review for Religious Spirituality of Contemporary Religious Life (Kansas City: Sheed Ward, 1995) and Woman Strength: Modern Church, Modern Woman (London: Sheed and Ward, 1990); Barbara Fiand, Living the Vision: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990) and Wrestling with God: Religious Life in Search of Its Soul (New York: Crossroad, 1996). 2 Karen L. King, "Prophetic Power and Women's Authority: The Case of the Gospel of Mary [Magdalene]," in Women Preachers and Prophets through Two Millennia of Christianity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), pp. 21 and 35. 3 See Mary Catherine Hilkert OP, Speaking with Authority: Catherine of Siena and the Voices of Women Today (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000, p. 43. Colman O'Dell, "Elizabeth of Schonau and Hildegard of Bingen; Prophets of the Lord," in Peace Weavers, ed. J.A. Nichols and L.T. Shank (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1987), pp. 85-102. ~ Cited in Abraham Heschel, The Prophets: An Introduction (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1962), pp. 12ft. 6 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1976), p. 13. 7 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 36-37. 8 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 9-10. 9 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 45 and 26-27. 10McNamara, Sisters in Arms, p. 637. ~ See With Hearts Expanded: Transformation in the Lives of Benedictine Women, St. Joseph, Minnesota, 1957-2000 by Evin Rademacher, Emmanuel Renner, Olivia Forster, and Carol Berg (St. Cloud: North Star Press, 2002), cited in History of Women Religious News and Notes 15, no. 1 (February 2002): 4. ,2 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 20-21. ,3 Dorothee Soelle, Suffering, trans. Everett R. Kalin (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), pp. 70-76. ,4 Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, p. 23. ,s See Constance FitzGerald, "Impasse and the Dark Night," in Women's Spirituality: Resources for Christian Development (2nd ed.), ed. Joann Wolski Conn (New York/Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), pp. 410- 435. 16 Mary C. Grey, "Prophecy and Mysticism: The Heart of the Postmodern Church," Scot-fish Journal of Theology (1997): 53. 17 Recent examples include Dominicans at Home in a Young Nation: 1786-1865 (Chicago: Project OPUS); Women of the Vale: Perthville Josephites 1872-1972 by Marie Crowley (Melbourne: Spectrum Publications, 2000); Beyond the Adobe Wall: 1852-1894 by Patricia Jean 62.3 2003 Dreyer ¯ Prophetic Voice in Religious Life Manion SL (Independence, Missouri: Two Trails Press, 2002); Barbara Misner, The Living Love of Christ among Us: The History of the Sisters of Mercy of the Holy Cross, 3 vols. (privately printed by the Sisters of Mercy of the Holy Cross, 1999). An excellent listing of new books on religious life can be found in History of Women Religious: News and Notes, ed. Karen M. Kennelly (2311 South Lindbergh Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63131). ,8 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 47 and 49. ,9 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, pp. 69, 70, and 79 20 Brueggeman, Prophetic Imagination, p. 88. 21 See Antoinette Wire, The Corinthian Women Prophets (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993). 22 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 137 and 150. 23 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, p. 317. 24 Schneiders, Finding the Treasure, pp. 327 and 334-335. 2s Chittister, Woman Strength, pp. 69-70. z6 Heschel, Prophets, p. 12. 27 Walter Brueggemann, "Texts That Linger, Words That Explode," Theology Today 54, no. 2 (July 1997): 181 and 198. 2~ Hilkert, Speaking with Authority, pp. 2-3. 29 Paul Tillich, The Dynamics of Faith (New York: Harper,1957), p. 72. 30 Grey, "Prophecy and Mysticism," pp. 23 and 62. Sadness Today I embrace the air. The embodiment of heart and mind, .flesh and bone are gone. Too soon a (oraithlikefigure replaced reality l~aving only memories. Marcella LaKoske OP Review for Religious NIHAL ABEYASINGHA Charism: Is Marketing Needed? Ubnuti luenvdeer rs eslelsv eitns dfaibffreicr esnotf tneanmer etsh,r oouftgehno uwt iEthu rdoipf-e ferent bottles and different marketing strategies and sometimes even different formulas. Candy maker Mars no longer sells "Mars" bars in the United States; the same product is now called "Snickers Almond," and American "Milky Way" bars (same as ever) are sold in Europe as "Mars" bars. Such is the adaptability of mod-ern marketing. How, then, might one go about market-ing the productmor telling the story--of a religious institute's charismatic accomplishments and endeavors? This article argues that one needs to identify the project the founder launched (pastoral care) by identifying where his heart was (pastoral sensitivity). In particular, it deals with the Redemptorists, a congregation founded in 1732 and approved by the pope in 1749. Today's efforts to rediscover the charism of religious congregations often turn into an intellectual exercise-- doing meticulous historical research and then making the findings available to members through seminars, vis-its to places associated with the founder, and so forth. Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR writes again from the University of Kelaniya; 454/9 Piachaud Gardens; Kandy 20000; Sri Lanka. 1_9.KO~ 62.3 2003 But maybe a question asked by St. Bernard needs to be asked again: "What kind of concept could human beings have of God [in their mind] unless they first had an image of God in their heart?" This implies that people can have almost no idea of God in their mind until they first choose to love God through the image of him they find in their heart. Similarly, today's "bearers of the charism" need to examine whether their hearts are where their founder's heart was. I suggest that this would call for a refinement in the religious congregation's method of research into its charism. A Note on Method The historical method seeks to learn what the founders were thinking when they established their reli-gious institute. One arrives at the origins of that thought and traces its progress and completion. Whatever con-clusions are drawn are shown to have existed in some way in the founder's consciousness. That is a legitimate method of historical research. But, regarding a charism, I suggest that one is deal-ing with where the founder's heart was. The founder first has a commitment in his heart. It is only later that he emphasizes from the Christian memory and tradition what fits in with that commitment. The elements he highlights and puts together are never the total Christian vision. The founder in his insight is an artist, and a cri-terion of good artists is that they highlight some partic-ular thing in such a way that the "universal" shines forth more brightly. The founder did not first create a system of thought (a theory) and then fit his project into it. Rather, he first "fell in love" with the "project" in front of him. How? Why? Because he saw and experienced certain events in the world and their impact on his life as a Christian. He responded and witnessed to them. He invited others to join his project so that the witness could Review for Religious continue. I argue that the priority is the heart. The head follows, making sure that the heart ("Love is blind!") is not chasing after vanity. Rediscovering an historical fact or some perspective of a former era is a valid study in itself and a contribu-tion to knowledge, but, in matters of love and a tradition of love, the issues are different. One needs to keep alive today (in a world that has obviously changed) the story of a particular heartfelt response to events of a former era. Witnessing anew with-out changing the story is what is called for. The successive bearers of the charism do not have a different insight from the founder's. The present bearers of the charism have to love with the same insight. This is not primarily propositional truth or even a crys-tal- clear concept. This love produces a kind of feeling (or instinct or sixth sense) for the insight of the founder. It brings about a virtuous disposition such as "justness" (not justice) and "chasteness" (not chastity) bring to what is just and chaste. Ask any Redemptorist and he will tell you that the aim of the congregation is to preach the gospel to those who are pastorally "most abandoned" or most in need. That is propositional truth. After one or several of such groups are identified, ministry to them is made a prior-ity in each unit of the institute. But the crux of the mat-ter is what "insight" or "virtuous disposition" operates in regard to this target group. Is the agenda for action set by the target group where they actually are, in their iden-tity and reality as Christians, or from the textbooks of theology? In my opinion and that of several close asso- One needs to keep alive today the story of a particular heartfelt response to events of a former era. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingha * Charism ciates, there is something wanting in the textbook approach. It does not seem to have captured the imagi-nation either of the majority in the institute or of the people to whom its ministry is offered. So the question is: How does one identify the original insight, foster a love and feeling for that insight, and then put the "story" into practice in our own day? Alphonsus ahead of and behind His Time Alphonsus in some ways was ahead of his time. He anticipated, for example, the development of doctrine in the church and required the members of the institute to take a vow to defend the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin, before it was defined in 1854. But in some ways he was also falling behind, defending positions that do not have theological defend-ers today. Looking at matters in which Alphonsus fell behind may illustrate his "marketing" strategy. It came to me as something of a shock to read his refutation of a work of Dom Leoluca Rolli, a priest of Calabria, titled II Novello Progetto, o sia Dissertazione del buon uso delle Litanie, ed altre preghiere (The New Project, or Dissertation on the Good Use of the Litanies and Other Prayers).~ This was in 1775, and the Redemptorist congregation had been started in 1732. Mphonsus takes up basically three issues against Rolli: (1) the popular belief that house of the Mary was brought by angels to Loretto, (2) some titles used in regard to Mary in the Litany of Loretto, and (3) the singing or recitation of that litany before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. As regards the popular belief about the house of Loretto, Rolli considered it an account that runs like a fable. In his refutation Alphonsus refers to popes who said that the house was taken by the ministry of angels to Loretto. He goes on to say that the denial of this belief Review for Religious is common among Protestant authors, in contrast to Catholic authors. Obviously, in the view of the rational-ists of the time, the argument was weak. Today's theolo-gians would not set much store on Alphonsus's reasoning. Rolli thought the titles Tower of David, Tower of Ivory, and House of Gold used in the Litany of the Blessed Virgin were affectations, using words without adequate meaning. He thought that Mirror of .Justice, Refuge of Sinners, Morning Star, and Gate of Heaven were titles that should refer only to .Jesus. Alphonsus's refutation was simply that people in the church, including priests and religious, saw no problem with using this litany and that popes had approved it. He adds, "They are all [expres-sions] of piety and tenderness towards our holy queen, that we may trust the more in her protection." Rolli considered it an abuse to chant the Litany of the Blessed Virgin before the Blessed Sacrament exposed. Alphonsus admits that prayers should be directed to.Jesus our Savior, for he alone is absolutely necessary as a ~neans of salvation. But he goes on to say that others are nec-essary, not by a necessity of means, but by moral neces-sity, to help our confidence the more. "In this light, when we chant the Litany of the Blessed Virgin before the Blessed Sacrament exposed, Mary is asked to present our prayers to Jesus Christ.''2 The Sense of Alphonsus's Arguments Today the views of Rolli are commonly accepted. Should Alphonsus even at that time have seen some value in Rolli's opinions and conceded some probability to them? Why did he reject them without qualification? My short answer is that Alphonsus realized how impor-tant the Catholic sense of identity was at the time. He knew the importance of consciously "being different." His "pastoral care" was rooted in "pastoral sensitivity" for that sense of identity. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ~° Charism Priests, after spending years studying th6ology, tend to apply theological categories to pastoral situations with little sensitivity for the people's felt needs. Pastoral care involves sensitivity to the human situation, the sensitiv-ity of a shepherd leading his flock to pasture. That sen-sitivity raises questions. What instincts and heartfelt feelings of the people should he be careful not to offend, and why? What needs changing, and why? These are delicate questions. In the 18th century, the very things Rolli criticized were popularly held. Even the popes had reflected them in their writings. Rolli wanted to set those beliefs aside in the name of rationality. Alphonsus had a different con-cern. His stand was with the people, the majority. From that standpoint he would consider whether the "logic of reason" was a pastoral basis to eliminate those devotional titles and whether dropping them might leave a gap in the "logic of life." What would take their place? Would people feel at home in their faith without holding on to such devotional patterns? He concluded that eliminat-ing such popular piety would be pastorally harmful. I suggest that questions like these would have arisen as part of the "pastoral sensitivity" of Alphonsus. Such ques-tions are important today as well. In other words, peo-ple, their own perceived identity, and their felt needs--rather than the latest theological opinions-- should influence ministry agendas, especially the min-istries' points of insertion. In Alphonsus's day many people who were devoted to the traditional Litany of Loretto would have been unable to understand the principles of rationalism. Alphonsus probably understood them, or at least had the gifts of mind to understand them. The only ones at that time who rejected the traditional litany and even ridiculed it were Protestants. Alphonsus would have known that for him to reject such devotional formulations would be Review for Religious understood by many as encouraging, at least implicitly, some close rapport with Protestants. Alphonsus's view was that the people (including himself, a highly emo-tional Neapolitan) would not feel at home without the support (emotional and otherwise) of such devotions and prayers. That would confuse ordinary people. He had no adequate substitute to offer. It would have been like advocating email in Asia in the 1980s. Few Asians even knew of email's existence, and the infrastructure for it was not in place. In the 2000s the situation in Asia is dif-ferent. What Alphonsus hoped to achieve by his unquali-fied rejection of Rolli's ideas was a communication of truth (pastoral care) that would be attractive (pastoral sensitivity) to their sense of identity as individual believ-ers and as a community. He wanted to communicate, not pure speculative truth, but existential truth related to them as persons. Alphonsus wanted to touch ordinary people where they happened to be. To be touched in this way could turn out to be a moment of truth for peo-ple. Pastoral sensitivity finds a way to lead people to an encounter with truth. Truth has its way of cutting across the "lie" by which people sometimes try to live. The fol-lowing passage from a novel by Andrew Greeley explains what I mean. "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen." Ellen is on her knees confessing to a priest named Kevin. Both of them have known each other for many years, and Kevin's family has assisted Ellen financially during a period of need. She says she has been away from the sacraments for ten years, and she lists her many sins. After she finishes, Kevin (who is the novel's narrator) speaks. "I'm still waiting for the real sin, the only sin," I said. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism She [Ellen] tilted her head. "I've told every-thing." "You haven't told the one important thing. You were mad at God and mad at the church and pretended for a long time you could get away from both." "I don't want to talk about it," she said. "Then no absolution," I said firmly. She tugged her hand to free it. I wasn't ¯ going to let it go. "Don't you have an ounce of compassion in that ice-cold soul of yours?" "If you want compassion, Ellen, go to your husband or have him recommend a psychia-trist who will listen sympathetically. If you want absolution, don't play games." She stopped tugging. We were quiet for a long time. "That's the only one that does matter, isn't it?" she said. "All right, Kevin, I'll say it, and you'll have to mop up the tears on this hard floor of yours. I blamed the church and God for things that were inside me and my family. I focused on all the ugly things and forgot about Father Conroy and Sister Caroline and first Communion and May crownings and High Club dances and midnight Mass and all those wonderful things that I love so much. I gave them all up because I was angry. I blamed the church for Tim's death. I loved him so much. I couldn't save him, and I thought the church should have saved him. Even when doing it, I knew I was wrong and that someday I'd be kneeling on the floor before you and pleading to be let back in." "And now you have done it," I said . She put her head against my knee and wept. Review for Religious Then she gathered herself together and said, "So Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen.-3 "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen" is not humanism. A foundational element of Pope John Paul's teaching is that "man is the way of the church." But "man" must be understood in terms of the man, Jesus Christ. Salvation is when the individual lets Jesus Christ judge his life and values ("wanting absolu-tion"). Humanism is when people reformulate Jesus in their own image and like-ness ("playing games"). The former course is an expansion, an openness to the Infinite; the latter is a reduction of Jesus to the measure of one's own finiteness. The former is redemptive; the latter is ratio-nalization and self-justification: narcissism. I suggest that the former is where the charism of a religious institute is centered; the latter is what may be called "pastoral opportunism." Pastoral sensitivity varies according to differences in the charisms of various institutes. ¯ Playing Games or Wanting Absolution? "If you want compassion, go to your husband .I.f. you want absolution, don't play games." How true! How easily the two are confused! "Ellen's worst sin was against Ellen"--that is different. The enumeration of one's sins is an objective matter, but the moment of conversion is existential, the realization that "I have sinned. I will go back to my Father. That is¯ where I am at home; in fact, I have nowhere else to go" (see Lk 15:11-31). Human beings need saving. All creation shares in the salvation of the human. "Creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord, but because of the one who subjected it in hope that creation itself would be set free from slav- 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism ery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God" (Rm 8:19-20). There is nothing wrong with compassion, but, in the perspective of absolution (existential salvation, redemp-tion today), there has to be more than compassion on the part of the pastor. The link between compassion and salvation is naming the game and discovering one's iden-tity in commitment and relationship to oneself, one's fellow human beings, and God. In the scene quoted above, Ellen has known Kevin for years and has experienced the generosity of his fam-ily. But as pastor he brings her to realize the injustice she is doing to herself. In that discovery and realization, she discovers the church community she has abandoned and God, who is present in that community. She sees that she is always welcome to the church and to the peo-ple and things she admits she loves: Father Conroy, Sister Caroline, May crownings, dances, and so forth. It is the entire mixture of ritual, imagery, and flesh-and-blood community that makes her feel at home. And yet we know that none of these are a hundred percent per-fect. Such is the church. What needs to be preserved for the individual in the church and for the church as a community is this feeling of being at home. In that setting people realize their true human and Christian identity. They do not blame the church and God "for things that were inside me and my family." Feeling at home does not mean complacency. To all--believers and unbelievers--the church must preach faith and conversion (see Sacrosanctum concilium, §9). Permitting people to "play games" and evade their call to conversion is not part of its mission. The Clarification of Pastoral Sensitivity Pastoral sensitivity varies according to differences in the charisms of various institutes. Is a given charism Review for Religious meant to function from the top down or from the bot-tom up? The top-down function is a way of exhibiting some transcendental value. Thus does a contemplative order bear witness to God's transcendence in any envi-ronment. In contrast, a charism that functions from the bottom up takes people where they are and leads them higher. Alphonsus's charism is certainly bottom-up. Redemptorist pastoral sensitivity, therefore, must be alert to where people actually are and concerned with them in their situation. The concrete situation determines the charism's "point of insertion" and the subsequent agenda. Does theology have a role in this agenda, and, if so, what is that role? First, it needs to be said that what unites the Christian community is faith, not theology. Pastoral care, first and foremost, contributes to growth in faith. Pastoral care is an art, discerning how faith func-tions in this person and this situation and then doing with skill whatever contributes to the growth of that faith. Theology, of course, does have a role in pastoral care. Years of formation in the science of theology provide principles for the art of pastoral care. Theology states and clarifies the goal of the Christian journey. Newman says: "Theology begins, as its name denotes, not with any sensible facts, phenomena, or results, not with nature at all, but with the Author of nature--with the one invis-ible, unapproachable Cause and Source of all things. It begins at the other end of knowledge, and is occupied, not with the finite, but the Infinite. It unfolds and sys-tematizes what he himself has told us of himself; of his nature, his attributes, his will, and his acts.''4 In this pro-cess of theology, logic is important, but, as Newman says, "logic does not really prove; it enables us to join issue with others; it suggests ideas; it opens views; it maps out for us the lines of thought; it verifies nega-tively; it determines when differences of opinions are 62.3 2003 Abeyasingha ¯ Charism Pastoral care is not a matter of saying and doing what pleases the majority. hopeless; and when and how far conclusions are proba-ble; but for genuine proof in concrete matter we require an organon more delicate, versatile, and elastic than ver-bal argumentation.''s Theology and pastoral care can enrich each other, but how does that work? In pastoral care the starting point is the finite: this individual, this situation. More than strict logic, there needs to be a "clinical sense." What "symptoms" does one perceive? Are there inter-connections? What is the diagnosis, and what treatments are possible? What treatment seems best? How is faith func-tioning here? What prin-ciples operate, however obscured they may be by seeming illogicality? Pas-toral care, in this perspective, is art and poetry. Artists have "insights" and then present them, using the best subject matter and materials and techniques known to them. In their presentations the artists and their glimpses and visions (all finite) that were the starting point rec-ognize themselves as called to grow towards the Infinite. What Rolli glimpsed in the Litany of Loretto were defects--they were indeed defects in the light of a the-ology influenced by rationalism. His solution was to eliminate them. The consequences of doing so were not his concern. I would suggest that Alphonsus's pastoral insight was that he saw how God operated and how pop-ular piety, defective though it was, was indeed express-ing faith in God. His pastoral sensitivity saw the danger of eliminating without substituting. He saw the possi-bility of initiating growth from "within." Pastoral care is not a matter of saying and doing what pleases the majority. That would be pastoral oppor- Review for Religious tunism. Pastoral care leads to an encounter with truth. Hence it is the pastor's function to uncover the truth that exists in what people do and then lead them beyond it. There is truth even in the fables, myths, and legends of popular piety. As Newman says, "fables are economies or accommodations, being truths and principles cast into that form in which they will be most vividly recognized; ¯. Again, mythical representations, at least in their bet-ter form, may be considered facts or narratives, untrue, but like the truth, intended to bring out the action of some principle, point of character, and the like. For instance, the tradition that St. Ignatius [of Antioch] was the child whom our Lord took in his arms, may be unfounded; but it realizes to us his special relation to Christ and his apostles, with a keenness peculiar to itself. The same remark may be made upon certain narratives of martyrdoms, or of the details of such narratives, or of certain alleged miracles, or heroic acts, or speeches, all of which are the spontaneous produce of religious feel-ing under imperfect knowledge. If the alleged facts did not occur, they ought to have occurred (if I may so speak); they are such as might have occurred, and would have occurred, under circumstances . Many a theory or view of things, on which an institution is founded, or a party held together, is of the same kind.''6 Acknowledging Identity in Affirmation of Difference At no point does Alphonsus say that the truth of the fables of popular piety are truths of faith or that they are the core of Christian faith. Alphonsus was clear in his own theological principles. He asserted that Jesus is the only mediator necessary by necessity of means¯ But he also knew that, in actual day-to-day living, people accepted other mediators as well, and so he speaks of them as a moral necessity. In the sphere of religion, Maryi_9.tLl__ 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism is a secondary mediator. That was the situation--as it stood with its imperfect and accommodated knowledge. As pastor he would present a picture of Mary and the saints as mediators on a different level from Jesus. He would insist that her primary function is to lead us to Jesus. On a secondary level she helps us in our imperfect situation by presenting our prayers to Jesus, increasing our confidence, and so forth. Alphonsus recognized that Catholic identity at that time included being different from Protestants and ratio-nalists. At that time Catholics honored Mary in ways that could be assessed rationally as exaggerated and imperfect--and which brought on ridicule from Protestants and rationalists. To seem to condone their ridicule would lessen their identity (their "being differ-ent") and tantamount to joining them. It was part of Catholic identity, of feeling at home, to retain the devo-tion as it was traditionally practiced. Alphonsus therefore rejects the rational and theologically assimilable posi-tions of Rolli. (Today Rolli's views are part of the Catholic tradition and Catholic identity. It was not so in the 18th century, and could not have been.) Alphonsus had to deal with the theological doctrine that acts of devotion performed by one who was not in the state of grace did not avail for salvation. He could not deny this; it was the common doctrine. So he searched at the human level for the benefits of such devotion. He says (with Thomas Aquinas and Robert Bellarmine) that, although such acts of devotion do not in themselves jus-tify, they at least dispose sinners to obtain justification through the merits of Mary and the saints. He points out at least three possible benefits that could accrue to sinners from such devotion: making them accustomed to good works, obtaining for them temporal favors, and disposing them to receive grace. In other words, sinners who practice devotion to Mary have a better chance of Review for Religious cooperating with grace and being justified than sinners who do not have such devotion. Acknowledging Identity and Moving Forward For Alphonsus, acknowledging identity through dif-ference was the beginning, not the end, of pastoral care. He wished to lead people to deeper understanding of their faith, but always worked first on their hearts, their emotions. His Glories of Mary is a com-mentary on the "Hail Holy Queen," a prayer that ratio-nalists ridiculed. That prayer gave him a framework for his pastoral strategy. He was not merely justifying popular devotion to Mary, but also inserting elements that would help the pray-er grow in faith. As Alphonsus saw it, the prayer combined contrasts (queen/mother; life/banished children). It abounded with words that evoke intense emotion. The climax of the prayer is an accurate theological description of what Christian life is: "After this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus." He makes Jesus the final goal of conversion. Until that goal is reached, even the slightest devotion to Mary, if carried through with perse-verance, gives the sinner hope. She becomes his patron, and exalted patronage was a well-known practice. In The Glories of Mary, Alphonsus takes the "Hail, Holy Queen" as it is and plays on the contrasts that are brought together in addressing Mary. "Queen" evokes power, while "mother" evokes love. Mary nurtures "life," even though our lives are precarious because of the ban-ishment caused by sin. These contrasts do not hold For Alphonsus, acknowledging identity through difference was the beginning, not the end, of pastoral care. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba * Charism together in ordinary life. As sinners look to Mary as mother, affections of love, tenderness, and confidence are bound to override those of fear, dread, and punishment associated with "queen." Gradually people, especially the sinful and the desperate, would feel themselves more com-fortable and at home with the softer images (mother, life) rather than the harsher ones (power, banishment). His writing style is not pedantic; it is popular. He persuades, he encourages, he appeals. He repeats and exaggerates. He points out the benefits of simple acts (such as reciting a "Hail, Mary" every day) even for peo-ple who have not broken with their life of sin. He knows that the people he is writing for are an emotional peo-ple. He tries to bring reason to bear on their emotions. He does this by channeling their emotions towards two goals, sorrow and love. After reminding readers that God has done much by giving them Mary to be their mother, he asks what they have done. In various ways they have rejected her, and so they are called to sorrow and repen-tance and to expressing grateful love to God and to his mother, God's gift to them. The argument is not spec-ulative. It is an effort to have right reason (in the form of practical repentance and love) control any exagger-ated emotion in Marian devotion. Alphonsus provides a range of imagery drawn from people's ordinary life: Mary as midwife, shepherdess, and advocate. Such imagery is found even more in his poems, songs, and paintings. People could choose whatever image suited them, but, no matter what they chose, each image was mediatory, with Mary between the people and Jesus. Mary was the bridge. The Vatican's "Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy" (2002) treats devotion to Mary much as Alphonsus did.7 Alphonsus's expression is more laden with emotion. He wanted to lead people on a journey on which they would become attached to Christ in love. In "mar- Review for Religious keting" Alphonsus's insight, in bringing his Catholic charism to people of today, pastoral sensitivity needs to start where they are--start with what they consider their identity--and then, in the exercise of pastoral care, move them beyond it. This would be marketing, under a new and different label and brand name, the same product as Alphonsus "marketed" in his day. Is this "marketing" idea likely to convince the bearers of the Alphonsian charism today and to "work" for the people to whom their min-istry extends? A trial run may be worthwhile. I suggest that this approach is not altogether a "dream." A recent biography of Andrei Sakharov shows his journey from being a scientist who supported the Soviet system to being a spokesman for human rights.8 As a scientist he asked questions about physical nature and tested hypotheses, looking for reliable evidence. As a Russian he "believed that the Soviet state represented a breakthrough into the future." When he saw the deaths caused by the radioactive fallout from the tests he directed in 1955, he began to ask questions about politics the same way he had always asked questions about physical nature. This approach quickly made him a dissident. The rest of his life is too well known for repetition here. It was not a head-on attack on his ideology that changed him. The point of change was his own training, in which he was at home. At that point something new inserted itself: the deaths caused by his own experiments. This is a moral parable of change from within, somebne moving from the laboratory into action in the public arena, experiencing a martyrdom (witnessing and suffering), and "rising again." Can the charism of a religious institute function to effect change from within, meeting people where they are and progressing from there? Perhaps it can. That is the hope implied in being pastorally sensitive (to where people's hearts are) before striving to inculcate deeper and truer propositional knowledge. 62.3 2003 Abeyasingba ¯ Charism Notes ' Alphonsus Maria de Liguori, Breve rispbsta alla stravagante riforma intentata dall'abbate Rolli contraria alia piet~ dovuta verso la divina Madre (written in 1775). http:// 2 It is interesting that the Congregations for Divine Worship and the Sacraments, "Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy: Principles and Guidelines" (9 April 2002), §165, states that, in the adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, the faithful ought to be "encour-aged to use the Scriptures" and "suitable hymns and prayers" and spend some time in "silent prayer and reflection. Thus they will grad-ually get the idea that they ought not use devotional practices in honor of the Virgin Mary and the saints during exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. Given Mary's close relationship with Christ, however, the rosary, with its meditation on the mysteries of the incarnation and redemption, could help give the prayer a Christological orientation." Here I seem to detect that, although praying the rosary during ado-ration of the Blessed Sacrament is not rejected, neither is it considered the ideal. It seems to be considered an accommodation ("pastoral sen-sitivity") to where people are, with a view to leading them beyond it (with "pastoral care"). The burden of this article is to set the charism of an apostolically oriented religious institute in this perspective. 3 Andrew M. Greeley, The Cardinal Sins (New York: Warner Books, 1981), pp. 208-210. 4John Henry Newman, "Christianity and Physical Science," in The ldea of a University (Garden City: Doubleday Image, 1959), p. 395. s John Henry Newman, A Grammar of Assent (Garden City: Doubleday Image, 1955), chap. 8, p. 217. 6 John Henry Newman, "The Theory of Developments in Religious Doctrine" (Sermon XV, Preached on the Purification, 1843), in Newman's University Sermons: FiJ%en Sermons Preached before the University of Oxford, 1826-43 (London: SPCK, 1970), §35. 7 "Popular devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary is an important and universal ecclesial phenomenon. Its expressions are multifarious and its motivation is very profound, deriving as it does from the People of God's faith in, and love for, Christ the Redeemer of the human race and from an awareness of the salvific mission that God entrusted to Mary of Nazareth, because of which she is mother not only of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, but also of all people in the order of grace" (§183). 8 Richard Lourie, Sakbarov: A Biography (Hanover, New Hampshire: Brandeis University Press, 2002). Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN John of the Cross's Message for Today The focus of St. John of the Cross is the call to contemplation. Vatican Council ~I left no doubt about the universal call to holiness; the clergy, the laity, and religious are all called to the same high degree of union with God. John of the Cross locates that perfection in contemplation. Vatican II emphasized life in this world. It called Christians out of the ghetto and into the mainstream of worldly existence. Lay people particularly were to work for the betterment of humanity through science, politics, education, economics, and the professions. Such work is part of the Christian vocation; moreover, for Christians the motivation and animation for doing the work is the same in the marketplace and the family as it is in the cloister. The source is a loving relationship with the Trinity. This is the holiness at the heart of every vocation. Call it love, call it contemplation--it is the same Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote "Desert Spirituality" for our JuDy-August 2002 issue. His address remains Kino Institute; 1224 East Northern; Phoenix, Arizona 85020. 62.3 2003 biblical reality of "knowing .you, the only true God, and him whom you have sent, Jesus Christ" (Jn 17:3) or, in another formulation, "knowing Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship in his sufferings" (Ph 3:10). It is loving knowledge, for contemplation is knowledge by way of love. It is what St. Th~r~se called her vocation, to be "love at the heart of the church." In the lapidary formula of St. Paul, contemplation is the excellence of "faith expressing itself through love" (Ga 5:6). Contemplative prayer and contemplation are no longer to be seen as the domain of an elitist group. People in all sectors of church life and lay life are claiming their birthright and practicing contemplative prayer every day. John of the Cross can be their guide. In this paper I want to indicate how contemporary forms of contemplative prayer, specifically centering prayer and Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer, fit into John's synthesis. I will first present a sketch of his teaching on the beginnings of contemplation and then relate this doctrine to the contemporary movements. Contemplation, according to John of the Cross Faith as "the only proximate and proportionate means to union with God" runs like a mantra through the works of John of the Cross. Loving faith, shown in word and deed, is the only road to God. Every act of faith, however small, is a ray of light piercing the darkness in one's consciousness. It is the light of Christ shining through. By acts of faith we let Christ in, we allow the Spirit to form Christ in our very being. Of course, he is always there in the depths of our spirit, in "the innermost chamber of our inner castle, the unscathed center of our being, where only the true God dwells.''~ But he is dormant there until we awaken him through activated faith. Our individual, discrete acts of faith are like the dots of light on a television screen. Multiply them, and the Review for Religious screen is fully illuminated. The soul is like the television screen: on it the dots of faith coalesce to form the image of Christ, fulfilling the words of St. Paul: "I live now, no longer I, Christ lives in me." Thus are we configured to Christ. The rest of the quotation is equally important: "I still have my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God" (Ga 2:20). Our faith life brings purity of heart, the condition for this configuration. We are pure of heart to the extent that we live by faith. Purity of heart is not just chastity; it is all the virtues ordered and integrated in our being, giving us an openness to the indwelling God. In early stages God meets us in our rational minds, in our disparate thoughts and image~ and will acts. These are so many actual graces. When purity of heart is more perfect, we enter more deeply into ourselves at the spirit level where God reveals himself in a certain wholeness--in contemplation. "Blessed are the pure of heart, they shall see God." "Seeing God" occurs in holy thoughts and desires and more fully in contemplation. The metaphor in John of the Cross that corresponds to the television screen is the window pane that lets in the sun. When the window is clean, the sun comes through without any obstruction: the sun and the glass are like one same thing (Ascent 2.5.6). This is a beautiful image of purity of heart, of the entry of God. When all our desires are ordered by faith, we are transparent to God's indwelling. At first God comes to us in images and concepts, facsimiles and metaphors. When the soul is truly pure, that is to say, when it is free and detached and faith-filled, God comes in contemplation as Gracious Mystery, in his inscrutable reality. Our response then is We are pure of heart to the extent that we live by faith. 62.3 2003 Larkin ¯ John of the Cross's Message for Today simply a yes to this gift, resting in the presence, experiencing communion. Communion (koinonia, communio) is being one with God by participation in a unitive, nondualistic experience. Contemplation is the experience of communion. The experience of contemplation is ineffable: it cannot be put into words. We can have feelings about God, and they are sensible consolations or spiritual affections. Feelings are resonances of the experience of God. They are moments of enthusiasm or dis-couragement, joy or sorrow. They are secondary and accidental to the basic contemplative experience of presence and communion, which is incommunicable. The contact with God is the original experience of the theological virtues, whereas the emotional or spiritual resonances are the overflow. Often we have no assurance that we are experiencing the presence of God in contemplation other than blind faith. Feelings are ambiguous and need to be discerned. The act of contemplation is a return to the subject, a turning back on one's self in faith and love. It is moving from the Christ for us, who is objective and out in front of us, so to speak, to the Christ within us, who has become one with us. Thus contemplation is resting in the fruit of one's labor and search; it is the fruition of one's new, transformed self. The whole process is "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ," which begins with one's desires, purifying old ones and developing new ones one by one, and ends in the contemplative act of communion, when two things become one in participatory knowledge and love. This is nondualistic thinking, like the advaita of Eastern religions. God and the soul are united in a oneness that is not pantheistic, but pan-en-theistic. Communion is the common denominator of all the modes of contemplation, whether ordinary or extraordinary, active or passive, acquired or infused. Review for Religious Communion grows gradually as we are transformed in God. The one obstacle to our experiencing our .oneness with God is our unredeemed self, which is our false self or egoic self. Specifically, this bad self is our disordered desires. They are our attachments, an innocuous word better translated in our idiom as addictions and illusions. These are the persons and things and mindsets that control us, distort our thinking, and move us in the wrong direction. We deal with them by the two-pronged attack of getting to know Jesus better (so as to perceive his attractiveness) and letting go of competitive desires. There are two principles here, knowing Jesus and letting go. They are the two directives set down in the strongest language by John of the Cross as the necessary and sufficient program for holiness (Ascent 1.13.3-4). The strategy is to work on habitual, deliberate failings one by one until God negates them all in one sweep by leading a person into the "dark night." At that time one loses the attraction and pleasure in anything other than God. In John of the Cross, the gift of initial infused contemplation is the cause of this state. The budding contemplative is counseled to stop discursive activity, embrace the emptiness, and be present in loving attention to God, who is "infusing" light and love. At first the experience is distressful, because one fears she has lost God and everything else. The infused light and love are too subtle to be recognized. The landmarks of the old spiritual journey are gone: God is no longer available, 6ne cannot pray in the old ways, the excitement of ministry goes dead, and there is a malaise about everything. The only positive quality is an ache for God, which is aggravated by the fear of having lost the Beloved. Eventually one becomes comfortable with this new way of relating to God, and peace and serenity replace the anxiety. 62.3 2003 Larkin ¯ John of the Cross's Message for Today The dark night in general is the whole spiritual journey from beginning to end. Thus in John of the Cross the ascetical efforts that begin the journey to divine union do not complete the task. The dark night is needed for that. Why? Because our devious human nature, one's false self, goes underground into the unconscious and blocks a person's surrender to God in disguised ways. Jungian psychology calls the buried false self the shadow. It is made up of the capital sins, like lust or pride; in pious people these weaknesses take on forms of pseudo-piety that are as destructive as the crass expressions. Centuries before Jung, John was an expert on uncovering the shadow or dark side of human nature. His teaching is that only God can heal the shadow at its roots. God does this, not by "fixing" it, much less removing it, but by helping us confront and accept it and then move on to total surrender to God. One of John's great contributions is this teaching on the dark night. The dark night in general is the whole spiritual journey from beginning to end; the dark night under consideration here is one phase of the purification process, and is called the passive dark night of the senses. The new knowledge and love that are pure gift from God at this point (and called in-fused contemPlation) reconfigure the spiritual life. Inner worldly goods all lose their appeal. One sees them in their truth, and in comparison with God (Ascent 1.4; 3.20.2), and so they recede into irrelevance. At the same time God is no longer available in the cozy relationship of the past. The new knowledge and love of God is camouflaged and not knowledge in the usual Review for Religious sense, since it is apophatic, that is, knowing by unknowing. Nothing is felt by the senses, and the action of God is too subtle to be recognized. The result is ennui and accidie. John of the Cross reassures the beleaguered soul that the new state is an advance. The darkness is from God. John gives signs to authenticate the true grace from counterfeits. They are persistent dryness, the inability to function in the old ways, and the ache for God. Something new is going on. God is present in the scary silence. The person must relax and let God take over. Such is the dark tunnel of beginning infused contemplation. The new way of relating is communion. Instead of 'T' and "Thou" outside one another, the experience is "we" or "us." Mystics revel in this intimacy. It is at-one-ness with God. Such is the experience of this and every other kind of contemplation. It is in contrast to rational thinking about an object out in front. This is the way to just be-ing, participating in one life together, "abiding in Christ and Christ abiding in the person" (see Jn 15:5). Contemplation happens in prayer, in ministry, and in human relationships. It is a fine-tuning of the state of grace. It happens when childish babbling and chatting with God give way to silence. Only silence can handle the new knowledge and love. The silence may disconcert and cause anxiety, because nothing seems to be going on and one fears the emptiness. In fact, a great deal is going on, and the soul is undergoing a deeper purification and illumination. John tells the person to stay quiet, at attention. This blessed state is the proximate objective of the beginner in meditation. In John's view it may take a year or so to reach it.2 In my experience the apprenticeship is longer. It may take several years before one moves beyond discursive meditation into this prayer of silence. 62.3 2003 Larkin * John of the Cross's Message for Today Contemplation Today But something different is happening on the contemplative landscape today. Instead of working for years with discursive meditation and perhaps not entering " the dark night of the senses at all, people in all walks of life are choosing to practice a new kind of contemplative prayer. The contemporary practice is a new category and not the same as the contemplative prayer and contemplation of John of the Cross. For him these two terms are synonymous and always describe the absolutely free gift of infused contemplation. Contemplative prayer today is not discursive meditation, nor is it per se infused contemplation. It is an intermediary between meditation and contemplation. Centering prayer, Christian Meditation, and the Jesus Prayer cultivate silence and presence to God. In John's terminology these forms belong to meditation, since the prayer is active, personally chosen, and self-directed. But they are a kind of contemplation, because they are silent, without words or images or discursive movement from point to point. They are a species of contemplation, because they are communion with the Trinity. Thousands of people are practicing this self-initiated contemplative prayer. They are not forced into this way of relating to God; they choose it. They enter into deliberate and wordless silence. Instead of being busy inquiring, analyzing, and making multiple acts of the affections, they remain present to the divine indwelling in simple awareness and attention to the gift of grace within. This form of prayer is on the growing edge of Christian life. I believe that it is a gift to the church at this point in history. There is a widespread conviction that we do not have to wait until we are forced into the silence. We can choose it and foster it, and a fruitful kind of prayer results. All our other prayer, such as the liturgy and lectio divina, and our apostolic action and for Religious community relationships as well, are affected by this entering within. We come at life from a deeper level. All we need is an "open mind and open heart" to welcome the God hidden in the depths of our souls. This prayer is simply presence, silence, encounter beyond words. The challenge in this kind of prayer is to maintain the silence, to keep focused on the presence of God. The three forms under consideration use a word or a phrase as a way of maintaining attention. Centering prayer uses a holy word like Abba or Jesus to express one's consent to the divine presence and renew one's presence to God; the word is repeated as often as it is needed. Christian Meditation and the Jesus Prayer use the sacred word as a mantra, that is, a phrase repeated throughout the prayer. The usual mantra in Christian Meditation is the Aramaic word "maranatha," which means "Come, Lord." It is a greeting found in the New Testament. The mantra of the Jesus Prayer is the words "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner." You will not find these prayer forms in the writings of John of the Cross. The architects of these prayer disciplines do not presume the presence of infused contemplation, though they hope that the practice will lead there. John Main maintained that Christian Meditation was a traditional form of meditation in the medieval church. Actually he was not a stickler about terminology or theological distinctions; he saw meditation, contemplation, and contemplative prayer as synonyms. The method of meditation taught by John of the Cross may well have been along the lines of John Main. Beginners were to "ponder a divine mystery.''3 A common way of doing that in early monasticism was to repeat

Issue 27.1 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; 21, CHASTITY AND LOVE Joseph J, Sikora, S.J. VIRGINAL TEMPLES Thomas Dubay, S.M. ALIENATION OF MANUSCRIPTS James I. O'Connor, S.J. COMPREHENSIVE MENTAL HEALTH PROGRAMMING John F. Muldoor~ 66 INDIVIDUAL FORMATION PERIODS William F. Hogan. C.S.C~ GROUP METHODS IN SPIRITUAL DIRECTION Quentin Hakenewerth, S.M. AUTHORITY AND RELIGIOUS LIFE J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. 104 LOVE HAS ITS PROPRIETIES Sister Mary Sheila, S.N.J.M. COMMUNITY AND MYSTERY AT MASS Robert A. Bagnato, S.J. THE JESUIT NOVITIATE Nicholas A. Predovich. S.J. 137 THE TERRITORIAL IMPERATIVE Sister Teresa Margaret, O,C.D 143 THE PIETY VOID Kevin O'Shea, C.Ss.R. 163 SURVEY OF R~)MAN DOCUMENTS 170 VIEWS. NEWS, PREVIEWS 174 'QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 186 BOOK REVIEWS 1;12 121 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellavd, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as wei| as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32x Willlngs Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1967 by REVIEW YOU RI~LIGIOUS at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. 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Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JANUARY 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER x REVIEW FOR RELI(~IOUS Volume 27 1968 . EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the Catholic Periodical Index and in Book Review Index. Micro-film edition of Review for Re-ligious is available from Uni-versity Microfilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS On February i, 1968, R~vaEw FOR P~ELI~IOUS will publish clothbound reprints of volumes 2I to 25 (1962-I966) incluslve of the REv-mw. These clothbound reprints will cost $7.5o each per volume or' $37.5o for all five volumes. However, until January 3I, x968, these volumes will be sold at a special prepublication price of $6.oo per volume or $3o.oo for the entire set of five volumes. However, to take advantage of this special prepublication price, orders mhst be accompanied by full payment in U.S.A. funds and must be postmarked on or before January S~, 1968" The first twenty volumes (1942-I96I) inclusive of the R~vmw have already been reprinted in twenty clothbound volumes. These normally sell at $6.5o per volume or $I3o.oo for the set of twenty. However, from November ~ 5, 1967, to January 3 I, 1968, inclu-sive, they will be sold at the special price of $5.o0 per volume or $1oo.oo for the set of twenty. On February I, I968, and thereafter the price of these first twenty volumes of the REvmw will return to their normal price of $6.5o per. volume. Postage is included in all the above prices. Orders for all the above should be sent to: R~vmw Foa REL~C~OUS; 6x2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. JOSEPH J. SIKORA, s.J. Chastity and Love Recent* decades have seen a gradual change in theo-logical emphasis and perspective regarding various as-pects of human sexual love in the state of marriage. Four such aspects might be distinguished: pleasure, procreation, mutual help, and personal love and com-munion. While all four of these have in fact always been present in this sexual relation, though not necessarily in every case, until only recently the first three were most strongly emphasized. And of these three, procreation has been traditionally regarded as the "primary end" of marriage. But in recent years the fourth, with the help of modern psychological and philosophical studies, has come into much greater prominence, so much so that some have wished to treat it as in fact the really pri-mary end of marriage. In the light of the past teaching o{ the Church this seems quite impossible, but it is at least recognized now that this personal love and com-munion is not just something subordinate to the bio-logically procreative aspect of sexual life. Interpersonal communion among us is one of the pri-mary values of human life, and human sexual love is ordinarily the primary and fullest mode of this inter-personal communion. Sexual intercourse in marriage is the full incarnation of this sexual love in the manner connatural to the human person; it is at once a sign and expression of this love and communion, ~nd also a means of intensifying it still more. When intercourse reaches its natural term in procreation, the child himself is a yet further expression and sign of the mutual love of the parents and at the same time a new bond that joins them still more firmly in this love, now not only mutual but for .the child as well. Thus marriage and family life are most fully human, not at the level of mere biological activity, but at the level of human love and interpersonal * Since the writing o{ this article Father Joseph J. Sikora, S.J., has died; may he rest in peace. This article will appear in a posthumous book by Father Sikora on the theology of religious life to be published in 1968 by Herder and Herder. ÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" 4" .loseph .I. Sikora, S.1. REVIEW F~R RELIGIOUS 6 communion. The whole biological structure finally exists only in order to support such a life of persons in mutual knowledge, love, communion, and communication. From a purely biological point of view we might speak of the primary end of marriage and sexual intercourse as b~ing that of the biological species rather than that of the individual, and consequently of its being found in pro-creation rather than in the pleasure and good of the biological individual. Still, this could hardly be said in such a simple way of the domain of personal and inter-personal values that are found ;here. (But this is not meant to suggest any hasty conclu'sions about the thorny problem of contraception.) But if marriage is now understood primarily in its significance in the personal and interpersonal sphere (though without ever setting aside its biological as-pects), this must mean that religions chastity also has an altered significance. Religious chastity, of course, still entails the denial of the pleasures of sex, of the possi-bility of procreation, and of the various joys of married life. But this chastity must also mean that a primary natural mode of human interpersonal communion in love is also excluded. Metaphysical and theological reflection in this light reveals a .most serious problem with the ideal of religious chastity. We do not relate ourselves to God in the same direct manner in which we can relate to our fellow hu-man beings. In fact we come to know God through the analogical resemblance of His creatures to Him; and we understand the meaning of interpersonal love and com-munion with God through our understanding of human love and communion. But if we are, through chastity, to exclude from our lives the primary mode of such hu-man love, then how can we come to the most profound affective relationship to God? And yet the very purpose of religious chastity is to enable us, with the help of grace, to come to just such a deeper relationship of love, not only to God but even to our fellow men. It would seem, then, that religious chastity really defeats its own purpose. This problem has also another aspect. The two sexes are mutually complementary in many ways, and really need each other in order to achieve full human growth to maturity. Either one by itself lacks a certain complete-ness in the line of nature, in some manner is not yet a full person. Especially is this so in regard to the very dimension of interpersonal communion itself. But with-out this interpersonal communion one must remain to some extent closed in upon himself, and, so it would seem, thereby less capable of opening outward in the love of God. Still more, religious chastity tends, in the con-crete, frequently to close off even other modes of mutual human interpersonal affective relation, in the interest of avoiding possible dangers of undue attachment to another person and even of eventual sexui~l difficulty. But all this only appears to weaken the ability of the person to enter into any affective relation at all, even to God. There is in fact a fundamental openness to God---even in the natural order and .the structure of our finite being, but also in the supernatural order through infused faith, hope, and charity--that already exists prior to any hu-man interpersonal relation at. all. It is true that our su-pernatural life is thus intrinsically prior to and inde-pendent of any particular human relationships at all. But still, this supernatural life must make use of our natural knowledge, natural love, natural affective com-munion, in order to come to .some analogical understand-ing of the meaning of the love of God, and to those particular acts of prayer and action that fill out our super-natural life under faith, hope, and charity. "If anyone does not love his neighbor, whom he sees, how can he love God, whom he does not see?" Full human life, and even full human life with God, seems to suppose pro-found affective relation to other persons, and perhaps even complete sexual communion with another in mar-riage. Such considerations as the above have led some to consider seriously whether we ought to reverse the ideas of many centuries concerning the value of religious chas-tity as a means of entering into a more intense life of loving communion with God. They point out that hu-man persons are both spiritual and fleshly, that it is simply wrong for us to try to escape this fact about our being, that we must work out with the help of God our salvation in and through the world and in and through our bodies as part of this world and even of our being. And these latter points are, to be sure, valid enough so far as they go. And yet there is in fact an ideal of religious chastity; it remains one of the three evangelical counsels. It has had a long history in the Church, in pre-Christian times, and in non-Christian religions. Quite apart from the position taken by the Church in its regard, religious chastity could not but be regarded with a degree of respect because of this long tradition in its favor in widely varying cultures and religions. It would be some-what naive for us to think that the difficulties cited above are of themselves conclusive and that religious chastity has become an outmoded cultural and religious form. Chastity has some resemblance to religious poverty. Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Again, there is a renunciation of the use and possession of some creatures in the .interest of a greater freedom of spirit in their regard. This ddtachment from creatures is thought to make attachment to God in love easier than it would otherwise be. At the same time, chastity like. poverty, tends to enable the one who embraces it to achieve a greater degree of order in his love, now his love of p~.rsons and not just of material things, and indeed also ,a greater degree of perfection in this love. Chastity by no means intends to deny the need of grace-elevated human love and communion, as well as of love' and communion with God through grace. But through the renunciation of sexual love, chastity prepares for a "mystical" love of God :and of all other persons in God. The meafiing of this "mystical" love will be explained in more detail.below. For the moment let it stand for a certain excess in intensity of" love that is so focused on God that everything else, is loved only in relation to Him. The dangers of .religious chastity for many persons have long been known in at least a general way. This way of chastity is not for everybody, nor even for most. "Let him take it who can." An already neurotic person-ality might look tO religious chastity as a way out of some of his problems, but in fact 0nly fall into further en-tanglements as a result of embracing' it. (And yet it is also possible for some neurotics finally to grow to ma-ture persons in a religious life of poverty, chastity, and obedienceS--but under enlightened direction.) It would be possible for one who embraces religious chastity to pervert its intention by so turning in upon himself as, to be completely unable to relate affectively with other peisons: Chastity here has been twisted into narcissicism. Or one could go not quite so far down this path, by mis-taking the renunciation of sexual love for a renuncia-tion of any intense human love of friendship at all. Such a person would be at least a stunted "personality, some-what'hollow, perhaps al~n'ost mechanical in his life and work. All these are serious .dangers to be avoided by careful direction of those who would enter upon the way of Chasiity. Theyare fhrther reasons, besides the strength of the basic human sexual-impulse, that chastity is not [or anyone and everyone--not even for" everyone wh6' might think he wants it. But with all this,, the theory of religious chastity is fundamentalIy Osound. It should lead, and most important it has led, to a higher degree of detachment and freedom of spirit in regard to material things and the desires of the flesh. It should provide, and has provided for many, the opportunity for a new height of affective supernat-ural communion with God, and also with all men in God. It.should offer, and has offered in fact, to many a greater freedom for their apostolic work for the kingdom of God. The Church has already taught in an irreformable manner the great value of chastity as a means in the love and service of~ God; in itself the state of virginity or chastity is superior to that of matrimony for this reason. We have the example of Christ Himself, of His Mother, and of many of the canonized saints. In the face of ob-jections concerning the "natdralness" of sexual union and of matrimony, we must first insist that the natural order is not all that is to be considered. In general, however, we must agree that successful human love-rela-tionships (that are also desirable and licit) do tend to favor supernatural life with God and with our fellow men at the level of the reflex articulation of prayer and at that of particular action. They are even dispositions in favor of a good basic moral option of charity under-lying all these particular thoughts and actions (merely negative dispositions if these relationships are not in-spired by grace, even positive dispositions if they are. in fact inspired by grace). But in order to understand fully the actual role of religious chastity in regard :to super-natural love it is necessary to adopt a quite different point of view. There is a love that is of'its nature a unique love, without the possibility of any simultaneous analogues in the same person. Of itself it is a once-and-once=only affair (though it is possible for one such love to give way to another in the course of life, or in the entrance to eternity). Jacques Maritain has distinguished, in his recent Carnet de Notes (Paris, 1965), between an amour d'amitid and an amour de 7olie, to bring out this point. It is possible for us to take advantage of his elaboration of this distinction a propos of chastity in order to better understand several aspects of chastity and its relation to our supernatural life of grace. But not everything in the presentation here is necessarily to be attributed to Maritain. Amour d'amitid, or ordinary love of friendship, is opposed to amour de [olie. Both of these would certainly have to be called love of friendship in a broad sense, since the amour de folie is a yet more intense form of love that goes still farther, beyond ordinary friendship. But we shall set aside for the moment all consideration of this amour de folie, and concentrate our attention upon various aspects of the ordinary love of friendship (amour d'amiti~)--such as ~is found to exist between hu-man friends and also between a person with sanctifying grace and God Himself. When such a love of friendship comes to its perfection + + + Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 9 4" 4" 4" .loseph I. Sikora, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 (speaking only relatively, since such a.love could go on increasing without limit), there is profound affective communion between the friends. This communion also includes, both as a support and as a result, the mutual sharing of all their goods in communication and in other forms of mutual giving. All that belongs to one also belongs to the other. And yet it could not be said that each has given his whole self to the other, except by a metaphor. It would be quite possible for each to have other friendships similar to this and simultaneous .with it, at the same or even greater degrees of intensity of love and communion. Each shares all he has, but not all of his very self. There is a love of friendship similar to this between the human person with sanctifying grace and God. This friendship between man and God means that the man has a personal affective regard for, communion with, and commitment to God that does in fact go beyond what he might have for any human friends. This is only to say that he loves God above all things and would prefer to lose any creature rather than God and His friendship. Such a friendship with God already exists at the level of the basic moral option of charity; thus it might be found even in anonymous Christians who would not be able to articulate in their thought or ex-press so well in their particular acts (at least not in such a full and conscious manner) their actual profound love of God. Such anonymous Christians do not have the fully articulated faith of Christians in the Church but only an inarticulate faith-adherence to the saving good who is God. But those Christians who live in the light of articulated faith can cultivate relations with God even at the level of reflex articulation of thought and through the various particular acts that every concrete situation calls for. Such a fuller life with God, at the level and under the direction of reflex consciousness, wouldneces-sarily be understood and lived by analogy with one's experience of ordinary human interpersonal relations further illumined by the light of faith. Clearly, every licit form of experience of human love and interpersonal communion could aid in enriching one's life with God at this level. But if there, is analogy between friendship between men and that between man and God, there is also notable difference, It is true that such a friendship between man and God is simply compatible with profound supernat-ural human affection and friendship for other human beings. But at the same time supernatural friendship with God, in its roots in the basic moral option of char-ity, calls for ever greater entry by man into participation in the very life of God Himself. There must be gradual growth of the divine life' in man, a gradual assertion of its dominion over every aspect of the human life in man. And although natural human tendencies ~ontinne to assert themselves throughout human life until death, these tendencies must themselves be elevated ever more completely by grace--integrated ever more completely into the supernatural life in man--so that God may have an ever more complete dominion in the human spirit in supernatural faith, hope, and charity. Concrete human love continues in this life to have both elements, supernatural grace and natural tendencies that are not thoroughly and completely subjected to supernatural grace. But the fundamental tendency of supernaturally graced man is toward an immediate union and total communion with God that could not exist simply side-by- side with another such communion but rather must really come to dominate exclusively and in utmost inti-macy- so that God really does become the form in some manner of the human soul. This kind of communion with God will be communion with God as one's All, simply one's All. This communion is already realized in an incipient manner through sanctifying grace and the indwelling of the Trinity in the human spirit; but it will be realized more fully, and more clearly, in the light of the immediate vision of God in eternity. But if such a height of friendship with and total im-mersion into God in af[ective communion is not part of the ordinary course of human supernatural life until eternity, nevertheless the mystical writers testify that this tendency of the life of grace can be in fact more fully actualized even at present. God does become more completely All for and in the spirit of man in the "mys-tical life" and through "mystical love." (But these terms are used here simply as designating a special mode of interpersonal relation to God, without carrying the weight of any special ontological account of "infused contemplation" that would make a radical break between ordinary Christian spiritual life and the entire mystical life.) This leads to a consideration of the second mode of love noted above, the amour de folie, or, we may say, "love unto folly," We shall examine the general charac-ter of such a love and then note the two modes in which it can come to realization here below. This analysis will enable us to understand much better the precise role of chastity as a religious means toward fullness of life with God here below, and indeed also the role of the whole life of the counsels in this regard. "Love unto folly" goes beyond ordinary friendship. In it there is not only a complete sharing of goods but even ¯ a complete, unreserved, mutual self-giving. Such an + ÷ ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 11 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph ~. Sik~ra, S4. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 12 abandon in the giving of one's whole self to another is only folly to mere reason. For reason sees the natural reference of every human love somehow to the self (in the natural sphere, and without consideration of the fundamental tendency of supernatural life). To mere reason, love must always be the love of a good that is good-for, a good that is good in itself but also a good for the one who loves. But in this love unto folly, this seems to be almost ignored by the one who loves; this is a love that goes beyond such categories of formulating and discursive reason, following a higher light of intuitive reason. And what is it that intuitive reason "sees"? It all depends on which of two directions this "love unto folly" takes. But for the moment we must confine our-selves to remarks about this love that are quite general. In this love there is fully exclusive affective commun-ion, not excluding other loves of friendship but com-pletely excluding any other love like this. This is love of the other as one's All. But we can have only one All, in whom we are totally absorbed and to whom we are totally given in all that we are and have. Such a love means complete communion Of spirit and complete open-ness to communication and all mutual giving. Needless to say, there would be no possibility of an analogical relation between two such loves in the same person simultaneously--there can be only one All for a person at a time, unless this person be the infinite God who gives Himself totally in all that He is to all men who will receive Him. But such a perfection of love as this could be found by man in either of two orders. There is a natural per-fection (capable also of elevation by supernatural grace) of such love. This is to be found in the complete mutual giving of man and woman in sexual love in marriage. This sexual love is finally and fully incarnated, sym-bolized, and at its peak of intensity, in its physical as-pect, in the act of sexual intercourse. But such sexual love is much more than this in the spiritual domain of affective communion and all that follows from this. In sexual love of this kind, in which one person gives him-self completely to the other in h~is whole being, there is the greatest other-centeredness that could be found in natural human love for another human being. It is to the other as to his All that he gives himself. We are of course speaking of the most successful human marriage relations and not of the failures; these latter remain all too possible, especially for lack of the ability to love in such a manner. This other-centered love is not without the radical reference to self that is the mark of every natural hu-man love to the extent that it is not elevated by and brought under the complete, and perfect dominion of grace. If one finds his All in another, this is still in the other as another self (and therefore finally as somehow good-for the sel~). This follows from the very meta-physical structure of natural human love. But at the same time the metaphysical structure of this natural sexual love, focusing on the other as fully another self--even as a part of one's integral being--also makes it to be the most fully other-centered mode of natural human love. Sexual intercourse is of itself expr.essive of this complete other.centeredness, of total personal giving in mutual communion. Such a love as this could clearly be only for one other at once. When such a perfect sexual love is elevated by supernatural grace, it retains the same basic characteris-tic, that each person is All to the other. But supernat-ural charity, as we have seen, gives a new further orien-tation and drive toward God and toward a fullness of communion with God. Some day the "love unto folly" of married persons must end, at least in eternity; for charity must fructify into complete loving communion with God now present in vision. Then He will truly become the All for everyone who is with Him. Rejoicing together in their supernatural friendship of charity, they will all see and love the Three who are much more than friends to them, who are their All, whatever else they may have besides. But even in this present life here below it is possible for men to arrive at a perfection of supernatural love o[ God that is in some ways parallel to the perfection of natural (and supernaturally elevated by grace) love in most successful marriage. This would be a "mystical love," as has already been noted above. As a mode of "love unto folly" it would be simply incompatible with the simultaneous presence of another such love as this. Only one other could be one's All at one time. Yet this love inspired by supernatural grace would not be a love for God only as "another self" (such as would be any mere natural love, with its radical reference to the self), but even for God as the transcendent and infi-nite Self, good-for Himself and also to and for His shared life of supernatural grace. The focal point of grace-inspired love is altogether outside oneself, even in the most radical sense. Such a love is never found iso-lated in the pure state in our present mode of being; there is also a (in itself neither sinful nor disorderly) natural element--a natural love--with it that retains an independent and radical reference to oneself in focusing upon what is good-for oneself. This element will, of course, remain even in eternal life with God; but there it will be completely integrated under the dominion of ÷ + ÷ Chastity and Lo~e VOLUME 27, + ÷ ÷ 1oseph J. Sikora, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 supernatural life¯ Our progress in supernatural life here below consists in large part of the growth of this do-minion of supernatural grace even at present. In "mys-tical'love" for God, the supernatural aspect clearly be-comes more and more dominant; it is even possible for complete integration of everything else under the super-natural life to be achieved in the state of transforming union and the mystical hght. But such an intricate and refined analysis need not be carried any further here. What is of interest here is a more descriptive account of this supernatural mode of "love nnto folly." In and through such a love of man for God, God shows Himself more openly and enters into a more profound intimacy with the human spirit. In this love the real finality of supernatural grace in us emerges more into the light (though still in the obscurity of faith)--its tendency toward the complete dominion of God in the soul, as the center of every activity, through supernatural faith, hope, and charity. This supernatural mode of "love unto folly" is ultimately incompatible with another such simultaneous love in the order of human sexual relation, and indeed utterly transcendent in relation to such a sexual love in any event. There is therefore no possibility of analogiz-ing from such a sexual, human love in order to achieve an adequate reflex articulation of "mystical love" in thought or in particular day-to-day action. Passive con-templation, without the possibility of adequate active articulation must begin here; this is a way of renuncia-tion of means and a way of darkness for the spirit--in which it must be led by th~ Spirit rather than find its own way. Every articulation in terms of earlier experi-ence is now simply insufficient to express what is now felt, and no acts are in any way adequate to testify to the actnal intensity of this love. Only silence, and per-haps also the most intense apostolic activity, come any-where near expressing this personal devotion and intensity of affective communion with God and with Christ; and yet finally everything falls short. There are no patterns in human love available here, except those we find 'in the revelation of God--especially in Scripture--in the life of Christ, and in the lives of the saints. But each one who follows this way must follow it in his own unique manner, under the guidance of God. Still, it is not true to say that the earlier modes of expressing friendship with God in articulated thought and action simply disappear. Far from it. Common mo-rality always remains to be lived as perfectly as possible. Frequent articulated prayer goes right along with mys-tical prayer--articulation first in the liturgy of the Church but also in personal prayer outside the liturgical events. And as we have said, the modes of apostolic ac-tion still remain, perhaps now expanded both in variety and in scope. So also, it remains true always that many human interpersonal relations of the most profound affective nature will help to deepen awareness and understanding, aid in greater reflex articulation, and also contribute to inventiveness in our apostolic action among our fellows --as well as enabling us to carry out better the simple exigencies of that fundamental love of neighbor that goes along with any friendship, and afortiori such a friendship, with God and with Christ. Only one such human interpersonal relation is ex-cluded as incompatible with such a full love-relation to God; .this is the "love unto folly" that ordinarily should mark successful marriage. And yet marriage itself is not excluded here. Neither is sexual intercourse within mar-riage (though it is deprived of its full symbolism of com-plete mutual giving of self--how could one give himself wholly to two Alls?). Perhaps the true "love unto folly" that is "mystical love" is not ordinarily found in such cases; but who could collect and offer statistics in this matter? In any event this kind of supernatural "love unto folly" for God does'mean that a union in marriage be-tween "mystics" would have to be something less in itself than it would be if it were itself a "love unto folly" for these same persons. Of itself and apart from the con-sideration of special circumstances, perfect chastity would ordinarily be the "easier" way, more free of tension, for those who would wish to give themselves in such a manner to God. In this sense, chastity and the whole way of the counsels could be called the "ordinary way" of pursuing such a path of love of God. In the light of these considerations, the supernaturally motivated renunciation of marriage, of sexual inter-course, of sexual pleasure, is of itself a preparation (negative, or even positive) in the supernatural order for such a higher mode of love of God. This renunciation is such a preparation precisely in so far as it excludes the other mode of "love unto folly" that could only exist among married Persons and that would incarnate and symbolize itself in sexual intercourse. This renunciation is not of itself already the actual "achievement" (if we may so speak of what can only be a gift of God) of .a "mystical" love of God; but it cannot help but point toward and even call for such a relation to God. The whole life of the evangelical counsels tends toward this exclusive love of God that goes beyond mere friendship; and this kind of love of God does not seem really possible without something at least equivalent to what is ordinarily understood as the life of the counsels. 4. 4- 4. Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 3.968 4. .]oseph .1. Sila~ra, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]6 The renunciation of sexual love that is called for by the life of: the counsels, and by ,evangelical chastity in particular, is of necessity more than just a renunciation of marriage and sexual intercourse. It requires also the renunciation~ of a large number of other intersexual rela-tions that ultimately tend toward the full relation of marriage and intercourse, and that would consequently endanger this ideal of chastity. But at the same time, many other modes of human interpersonal relation through affective regard and communion are not only open to but even very necessary for anyone who would preserve and grow in such an intense loving relation to God Himself. Our love for family, friends, brothers or sisters in a religious community, or in some instances perhaps for a wife, contributes in several important ways toward ~the full expansion and development of that love -"unto folly" of God. that still transcends them all. It would be well briefl~ to dwell upon these ways. As has already been pointed out before, such well-ordered relations of love: toward and communion with other human beings are analogues of human love for God. Even when ttiere is question of "mystical love" for God, these analogues still help to deepen and to support our partial and inadequate understanding of this relation to God and aid the ever inadequate articulation of our attitude in prayer. Such a "climate of human love," also elevated by supernatural grace, greatly facilitates those particular acts in relation to our neighbors toward which charity impels us. Even a natural love of others, com-paratively uninfluenced by the life of grace in us, could be a basis ~on which charity could buildbthough it could also be an obstacle to real supernatural charity by tena-cious resistance to the dominion of charity. ¯ Also, human love of the kind we are describing can remove very serious psychological obstacles that might otherwise be present, obstacles to the full appreciation arid. articulation, so far as possible, of our own love for God and for our neighbor, and also obstacles to the full appreciation, so far as possible, of God's own tender love and care,for us. If we had no feeling of ~being loved by anyone, how could we really appreciate in our human way, however inadequate, God's love for us? How could we really articulate a love for God, whom we do not see, if we cannot feel profound affective regard for other hu-man beings, whom we can see, or if we cannot articulate such a love for other human beings and express it in our various actions in their regard? We need both ,.the ex-perience of being loved by other human beings and that of loving them if we ale to be able to live any kind of articulated supernatural life that is expressed in partic-ular acts of love and care for:both God and man. It would, of course, be imprudent and even naive not to take account of the very real dangers to supernatural life that human love of this kind can create. It would be quite possible for one to grow in attachment to friends so much'that such friends come to stand alongside or even above God in the affections. It would be possible for one to fall gradually even into serious sexual diffi-culties. The great variety of human temperament makes it altogether necessary that no one simple standard of behavior should be required of or imposed upon all in regard to human friendships. But we must always keep a sense of perspective, ~an awareness that a certain amount of possible and remote danger should be tolerated in view of the greater good of full human development and fuller relation with God. In fact, our life of human love is very important indeed in Our religious life--and or-dinarily all the more so in those who follow the way of religious chastity. It would be altogether disastrous for the persohality if some distorted ideal of religious de-tachment were to succeed in crippling or killing our capacity for human love of other human beings. There is a certain amount of conventional nonsense regarding the saints. It is possible that some of them had no real human friendships; but the lives of the saints in general are full of examples of warm friendships, of saints surrounded even by a multitude of friends. Always they look toward a transcending of all such relations in their intense communion with God, but the richness and effectiveness of their human personalities in great part depend upon their capacity for human love. A chastity ¯ that would destroy this would make one much less than he was and would recall the words of Piers Plowman: "Chastity without charity will be chained in hell." But it must finally be understood that religious chas-tity does fundamentally orient the human person toward a love of God that goes beyond all other loves and is a true "love unto folly." Chastity, of all the counsels, points out most vividly the radically mystical purpose of these counsels. And yet if we have in most of this treat-ment emphasized the role of religious chastity as a prep-aration and disposition for a greater fullness of our af-fective love for God and man, this same chastity also has a very great value as regards the effective apostolate that should spring from such love, in all who are not living in a purely contemplative state. It would be well here briefly to note some aspects of this apostolic significance of religious chastity. Religious chastity is of itself a sign of the eschatolog-ical kingdom already here present through grace. It bears witness to the day when we shall come to the full-ness of supernatural life with God in which there will ÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 be no marriage or giving in marriage. It also bears wit-ness to the power of grace even here below. Such a wit-ness to the reality and primacy of the spiritual and supernatural life of love of God has its powerful impact in the world. In excluding the bond of married love, religious chastity frees one for the concerns of God, for a really universal apostolate in the love and service of all men. It gives a much dearer vision of both material and spiritual reality by freeing one from total absorption in and centering on the pleasures and partnership of sexual love. The human energy that would otherwise have been expended in such a love is now available for yet higher purposes. If chastity has been insufficiently appreciated in very recent years for its apostolic power as well as for its role in communion with God, it nevertheless lacks nothing of its perennial value. It is only necessary that we come to an adequate appreciation of the more profound under-standing of chastity and of the requirements for success-ful living of such an ideal, that has become possible in the light of the metaphysical and psychological real-ities already discussed above. Such a more adequate ap-preciation will not lead to the abandonment of the ideal of religious chastity but to an even greater perfection in its practice today. It is now possible to make a few sug-gestions concerning the concrete practice of chastity to-day in religious communities. There are many safeguards to religious chastity that are dictated in large part by common sense. Clearly these must still be learned and preserved, today as much as ever, not only in the course of education of new members of religious communities but later as well. It is unneces-sary here to enter into the details of such a program. Only naivete could question the reasons for segregation of sexes and restrictions surrounding this. The same is to be said as regards a somewhat larger area in which Chris-tian modesty would have to be exercised, larger than that for those in or tending toward the married state. But there must be adequate education for recognition of the real complementarity and mutually enriching role of the sexes in human life, for understanding their fundamental equality as well as their differing psychol-ogies. It is simply impossible today to carry on with modern youth and young religious a successful program of sex education that would not meet their more sophis-ticated desire for fuller understanding of themselves precisely as masculine or feminine and therefore as naturally related to their complement. This is no matter of simple education to the simple physical sexual struc-tures and functions. What is needed is much more, a real understanding of the proper psychological mystery of the other sex as well as of one's own. If such an under-standing is absent, there is a felt ignorance of life that can only cause many more and serious problems. With-out such an understanding, one is less a man or less a woman. Such a more elaborate "sex education" of novices and young religious must of course be conducted only in the context of a presentation of the real meaning of the sacrifice entailed by religious chastity. This sacrifice must be seen not simply as a privation endured for the sake of an ascetical "test"--to prove one's strength of char-acter but in its direction toward fuller union and com-munion with God in "love unto folly" and toward total dedication to apostolic concern. But once the meaning of chastity as directed toward greater love is seen, then the role here even of human love and friendship must be pointed out. The values of human friendship~for fuller spiritual life, for fuller human maturity, for better meeting of human problems --must be opposed sharply to the concept of an "isola-tion with God" that would perhaps more commonly tend toward a rather narcissistic preoccupation with one-self and one's subjective states. We must beware of pseudo-idealizations of the saints and of the rhetorical exaggerations of ascetical writers. The saints too were human like us and had the same need of friendship as we do. Human love enriched their lives just as it does ours. If we are to grow in our human capacity for love and the expression of love--the ca-pacity that is supposed for the actual articulation and day-to-day manifestation of our supernatural love for God and for our neighbor, then we must have the ex-perience of this love. Nor would it be enough to have this only as a past recollection from earlier life in the family circle and in the world. It is not difficult to dry up, to forget how to love in a human way, unless this capacity is renewed, stirred to new growth, by the con-tinuing interpersonal involvement of human friendship. In this regard it is well to approach with a somewhat lighter touch the problem of the so-called "particular friendship" that has so much preoccupied many spiritual directors of the past. There is a genuine problem here. There is question of an immature affective relationship that is far too much under the domination of an emotion that goes beyond all bounds. Such relations must finally be controlled or cut off. But at the same time, we must not allow ourselves to be stampeded through fear or excessive caution into looking for the simple removal of emotion and warmth from human friendship. This would be to aim at the ideal of a rather mechanical man ÷ + ÷ Chastity and Love VOLUME 27, 1968 19 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph J. Silurra, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 or woman, perhaps really incapable of any profound human love. Such a person would be "immature" in the sense that he or she was not allowed ever to grow to the full capacity for human affective relation to other human beings. Such a person would perhaps have some serious deficiency in dealing with other persons in the work of the apostolate and might find a relative impoverish-ment in his life of prayer and communion with God. Yet human love does have different characteristics in persons of different temperaments. Some are much more affective than others; some put much more emphasis upon practical and effective love that really does do, more than feel, good for other persons. Again, it is im-possible to set down any kind of uniform norms for such things. But the general implications of all that has been said are clear enough, it seems. Finally, it seems well to add a few words concerning the chastity of Christ, that chastity which always remains the model for every form of Christian religious chastity. Christ had, of course, the highest degree of "love unto folly" for His heavenly Father, and consequently for His Father's will. It is in this light that we should look upon His frequent resort to prayer in solitude. Hig Father was His All, here on earth just as in eternity. The chastity of Christ was therefore most congruous with His inner communion with God in the depth of His human heart. But in this union and communion with His Father, and flowing out of this very union and communion, He showed the most complete and tender love for all men, and especially for His very. own. A reading of John 13-17 would far surpass any words that could be added here to demonstrate this. Again we see this tender love when we look at Him, just a few days earlier, weeping over the death of Lazarus, or again, weeping over the city of Jerusalem. He was not the kind of mystic so totally absorbed in the One, or in the "divine darkness," or even in the "divine light," that He had no love to give and to manifest openly to His fellow men. Far from this, He radiated this love to all around Him, and especially to His very own. This lc;ve of Christ must be our own exemplar that guides our effort (aided by grace) just as it guides His own hand in drawing us to Himself and making us true instruments of His peace. THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Virginal Temples "Wherever# a virgin of God is, there is a temple of God." z "Never has a golden or silver vessel been so dear to God as is the temple of a virginal body." ~ If consecrated virgins are the choicest portion of the Lord's flock,s and if they are the "marvelous sign" of the Church's sanctity,4 and if this Church is the temple of the indwelling Spirit-Sanctifier,~ we may not fail to devote some extended attention to the relationships found between the divine inhabitation and dedicated purity. The Church herself offers us her hand to guide us through this discussion, for if we may judge by her liturgical texts, she especially loves to contemplate her God resting in the virginal bosom. She prays, for example, on the feast of St. Gertrude to "God who has prepared in the heart of blessed Gertrude, virgin, a dwelling delightful for Yourself," ~ and on the feast of St. Cecilia she re-joices that "this glorious virgin always bore the gospel.of Christ in her breast nor did she cease day or night from divine converse and prayer., and her heart burned with a heavenly fire." r # Previous articles in this series were published in REVIEW FOR RE~AG~OUS, V. 26 (1967), pp. 20~-B0 ("Indwelling God: Old Testament Preparation"); pp. 441-60 ("Interindwelling: New Testament Com-pletion"); pp. 652-50 ("Indwelling Dynamism"); pp. 910-58 ("Eu-charist, Indwelling, Mystical Body"); and pp. 1001-25 ("Indwelling Summit"). z St. Ambrose, De virginibus, bk. 2, c. 4; P.L. 16:214. ~ St. Jerome, Letter 22 to Eustochium, n. 2~; P.L. 22:409. z St. Cyprian, De habitu virginum, c. 5; P.L. 4:445; Pius XII, Sacra virginitas, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 46 (1954), p. 174. *Pius XII, Sacra virginitas, pp. 175--4. ~ Cor 5:16-7. ~ Roman Missal, Collect of November 16. ~ Roman Breviary, Responsory of Lesson 2 of Matins of Novem-ber ~2. Thomas Dubay, S.M., teaches at MaD, crest College; Davenport, Iowa; address: Box 782; BettendorL Iowa 52722. VOLUME 27, 1968 21 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Aim oI Virginity: Indwelling God Establishing relationships between consecrated chastity and the divine inhabitation requires no straining of one's theological imagination. On the contrary, Sacred Scripture is quite replete with them. Basic to all of these relationships is the virginityqove orientation: a virgin is a virgin because of the great commandment. Throughout the pages of Sacred Scripture God-and-man intimacy is prominent, and central to this intimacy is love. Even in the old dispensation the love command-ment is clothed with a majestic solemnity and insisted upon with an impressive series of reminders to protect it from oblivion and neglect: Hear, O Israeli The lord is our God, the Lord alonel There- [ore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength. Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. Bind them at your wrist as a sign and let them be as a pendant on your forehead. Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates,s One day some centuries later a pharisee strolled up to this God become incarnate with a knotty problem. "Master," he wanted to know, "which is the great com-mandment in the Law?" 0f the many possible precepts scattered through the Law the Master unhesitatingly came up with the crucial one: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind." 9 This is man's main occupa-tion. It is also the reason a virgin is a virgin. The purpose of renunciation cannot be negative. Nothingness cannot motivate the will. Nor can it serve as a basis for a state in life. Dedicated chastity is not an escape from the burdens of marriage. It is not a flight from something tainted. According to Paul it is a total, efficient, unimpeded, liberating Self-donation to God. One remains virginal to give an undivided attention and love to the Trinity: "I would have you free from care. He who is unmarried is concerned about the things of the Lord, how he may please God. Whereas he who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit." 10 The virgin is a virgin that she may love undividedly. In pa-tristic thought the virgin is a person apart, a glory of the Church. Her love is supernatural, superhuman, unspeakably beautiful, immortal: s Dt 6:4-9. ~ Mt 22:36-7. xo 1 Cot 7:~2--4. In this marriage [to Christ] there is no tinge of passionate desire because the fervor of this holy love is nourished by a spiritual refreshment. O angelic and superhuman virtue found in menl O inexpressible splendor of a heavenly and eternal servicel Those who receive it contemplate in the flesh what they shall enjoy in immortality, for they choose the better par,t which will not be taken from them but rather will be perfectea in them. What they now preserve by deed inviolate, shall be rendered to them in an increased reward of a glorious immor-tality, u Such, too, is the thought of Pope Plus XlI: This then is the primary purpose, this the principal aim of Christian virginity: to strive solely after divine realities and to turn one's mind and soul to them, to seek to please God in everything, to think of Him eagerly, to consecrate body and soul entirely to Him. It is nothing but love that sweedy impels the virgin to consecrate entirely, her body and soul to the Di-vine Redeemer. With this idea in mind St. Methodius, Bishop of Olympus, places on her lips these charming words: "You Yourself are all things to me, O Christ. For You I preserve myself unta,!nted; to You I run, my Spouse, holding my shining lamp aloft.' It is love for Christ, surely, which prompts the virgin to flee into the shelter of her monastery and to remain there for life to contemplate and love her heavenly Spouse more easily and without hindrance.~ When she makes her dedication the object of a vow the virgin places herself in a particularly holy relationship to the Trinity she bears in her heart. This holy situation is brought about, first of all, by her more complete self-surrender. She gives to her God not only the acts by which she is pure but also her very being and faculties that are pure. Just as a man does well who gives the fruit of his orchard to a friend, but does even more if he gives the orchard together with its fruit, so a man does well to give the Trinity acts of purity, but if he gives his very being and powers together with his acts he does even more.~a The virgin's self-donation is complete. The virgin's relationship to God is enhanced by vow, secondly, because through her solemn promises she fixes herself permanently in the holy condition of being bound to the fountain of goodness.14 Being bound is not neces-sarily unfortunate. It depends on that to which or to whom one is fastened. Genuine lovers reckon themselves fortunate to be bound to each other in matrimony. When the virgin binds herself to Beauty by vow, she is in an enviable condition indeed. We may note by contrast that just as a mortal sin is tragic, but to be obstinate or fixed in ~1 St. Fulgentius, Letter 3 to Proba, n. 17; P.L. 65:331. = Plus XII, Sacra virginitas, pp. 165-7; see also Vatican II, Decree on Religious Li[e, n. 12; Decree on the Ministry and the Life of Priests, n. 16; Constitution on the Church, tan. 42, 44, 46. ~ St. Thomas gives this teaching and example in refcrence to vows in general, 2-2, q.88, a.6 c. It Ibid. + 4- + Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 23 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS it is far more tragic, so also to be pure is angelic, but to be fixed in a pure union with the Trinity is far more angelic.1~ Spiritual Marriage ¯ So intimate is the love relationship between the virgin and God within that the Church has from the firs~ centu-ries seen a supernatural marriage in consecrated virginity. The doctor of virginity, St. Ambrose, fifteen centuries ~go put this relationship in as brief and lucid a gtatement as one could ask: "Virgo est, quae Deo nubit--she is a virgin who is married to God." x0 In the East St. Gregory of Nyssa, himself a married man but a great admirer of virginity, several times uses the expression, spiritual marriage, to refer to the celibate's union with God. Of it he says: "The soul who joins himself to the immaculate Spouse is bound by love to the true wisdom which is God." aT For St. Fulgentius Christ is the one Spouse and crown of all sacred virgins: This is the only-begotten Son of God, only-begotten Son of the Virgin also, the one Spouse of all sacred virgins, the joy, the beauty, the gift of holy virginity. He it is whom holy vir-ginity corporally brought forth, whom holy virginity spiritually marries, by whom holy virginity is made fruitful in order to persevere, by whom it is graced that it may remain beautiful, by whom it is crowned that it may reign gloriously forever.~ This same saint speaks of God "chastifying" or purify-ing the virgin into being His spouse: "Harken to the love of your Spouse in you; reflect on the loveliness of the Lord. The Lord is good in making you His handle/alden. This Spouse is beautiful who has purified you into being His spouse." 19 So truly did the.fathers consider the con-secrated virgin as wedded to God that they bluntly spoke of an unfaithful virgin as an adultress. Said Ambrose: "She who has espoused herself to Christ and has received the holy veil has already ma.rried, she has already, been joined to an immortal Man. Then if she should wish to enter a common marriage, she commits adultery." s0 Augustine's judgment was the same: "If a virgin marries [that is, one only physically a virgin], she does not sin, but if a nun (sanctimonialis) marries, she Will be con-sidered an adultress of Christ." 21 Pope Pius XII pointed ~ Mt 22:30. ~ le De virginibus, bk. 1, c. 8; P2,. 16:203. See also c. 5. 1~ De virginitate, c. 20; P.G. 25:301. rs Letter 3 to Proba, n. 6; P.L, 65:326. l~Ibid., n. 30 his; P.L. 65:336: "Attende igitur in te sponsi tui amorem, considera Domini pietatem. Plus est Dominus, qui te sibi fecit ancillam; speciosus sponsus, quite castificavit in sponsam;" ¯ o De lapsu virginis, c. 5; P.L, 16:373. ~Enarratio in Ps. 83, n. 4; P.L. 37:1058. out that already from the fourth century the Church's rite fdr the consecration of virgins was closely similar to her rit~ for blegsing earthly marriages.22 Even in today's liturgy the sainted virgin is called the spouse of Christ,2a and' the newly composed Mass for the profession cere-mony of religious women has the marriage theme running through it. If the law of praying is the law of believing, it is s!gnificant indeed that the Church has chosen to weave a supernatural wedding thread throughout the virgin's consecration to God.~4 In this most pure and heavenly marriage the virgin fi~ho has left all things for her spouse bears Him in her breast. This union is not only intimate, not only indis-soluble, not only personality-completing; it is a union that cannot be interrupted by death or clouded by the spectre of death. Divine revelation, speaks of God's rela-tiohship to any faithful soul as a wedded relationship, but in an additional way can these statements be understood of the consecrated virgin who will have no lover in her life but'Him.2~ Although Catholic Scripture scholars commonly understand the Song of Songs as expressing the intimate and incomparably beau'tiful love between God and man, it may be applied even more pointedly to this relationship between God and the virgin:2~ My lover is for me a sachet of myrrh to rest in my bosom .As an apple tree among the trees of the woods, so is my lover among men. My lover speaks; he says to me "Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!". "Let me see you, let me hear your voice, for your voice is sweet, and you are lovely." . Set me as a seal bn your heart, as a seal on your arm; for stern as death is: love, relentless as the nether world is devotion; its flames are a blazing fire. (Cant. 1:1~; £:8, 10, 14!, 8:6). Indwelling Spiritualizes the Temple Divine m~ste~es are all secret, wondrously hidden. Solne of them, ,.however, "we see (or think we see) more clearly than others. One of the most secret of the divine works is the manner in which the abiding Spirit conse-crates and even somehow spiritualizes the flesh bf His human temple. That He does is a fact of His own telling: ~ Plus XlI, Sa~ra virginitas, p. 166. ~* Vespers of a virgin. a Those who now deny a bridal relationship of the consecrated virgin to Christ should reckon with the fact that they are running counter to the plain'mind of tile Church. ~ Is 54:5,7-8; Song of S, passim; Eph fi:21-3~. We may distinguish in traditional Catholic thought four types of brideship with Christ: the Church, each Christian soul, the advanced soul enjoying the transforming union, the consecrated virgin. It is only the last who can share in all four, ~ The Church herself in using the Song of Songs for the profes-sion of religious women herself suggests that we so use it. + 4- 4- Virginal Temples VOLUME 2~, 1~,9 2~ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "They who are according to the flesh mind the things of the flesh, but they who are according to the spirit mind the things of the spirit. You, however, are not carnal but gpiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you ¯. Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? It anyone destroys the temple of God, him will God destroy; for holy is the temple of God, and this temple you are." 27 Because the virgin particularly lives according to the spirit and minds the things of the spirit, she especially is spiritual and not carnal. And if she especially is spirit-ualized, it is indeed because the Spirit of God dwells in her. All men are holy and consecrated by this inabiding Fire, but especially is she who by her integral dedication "thinks about the things of the Lord that she may be holy in body and in spirit." ~s In an eminent manner may we apply to her the remarkable praise the Lord God bestowed on His people: "You were exceedingly beauti-ful, with the dignity of a queen. You were renowned among the nations for your beauty, perfect as it was, because of my splendor which I. had bestowed on you, says the Lord God." 29 Indwelling: Motive for Crystal Chastity If the very flesh of the human temple is sanctified, con-secrated by the presence of the Spirit, we can easily grasp the converse conclusion that this very presence is most fittingly honored by a crystal purity in the temple. When St. Paul comes to convincing the Corinthians of their great need for chastity, he lines up several doctrinal truths and caps them with the divine indwelling. First, the Christian's flesh is not a thing for itself; it is the Lord's: "The body is not for immorality, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body." so Second, this body is to rise gIoriously one day as did the Lord on the first Easter: "God has raised up the Lord and will also raise us up by his power." 3XThird, this body is a mem-ber of the mystical Christ and is therefore to cling to no sinful partner but to the Lord Himself: "Do you not know that your bodies' are members of Christ? Shall I then take the members of Christ and make them members of a harlot? By no means[ Or do you not know that he who cleaves to a harlot, becomes one body with her? 'For the two,' it says, 'shall be one flesh.' But he who cleaves to the Lord is one spirit with him. Flee immorality." a~ ~ Rom 8:5,9; 1 Cor 3:16--7. = 1 Cot 7:34. ~ Ez 16:1~-4. ~ 1 Cor 6:13. m 1 Cor 6:14. ~ 1 Cot 6:15-8. Lastly, this body is the very temple of the Holy Spirit bought at the price of the Lamb and thus precious in its value: "Or do you not know that your members are the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have from God, and "that you are not your own? For you have been bought at a great price. Glorify God and bear him in your body." as The conclusion is clear: rejoice this abiding God by your prayer and your purity. This, indeed, does glorify Him in your body. Indwelling Converse and Virginity It consecrated virginity occupies so singular a place in the supernatural economy that its representatives are the choicest portion of the Lord's flock and are wedded to their God, we should expect that it would be somehow bound up in a unique intimacy with this God. We should expect that the virgin possesses some advantage in con-versing with her Spouse that the non-virgin does not pos-sess. The data of divine revelation bear out our expecta-tion, for St. Paul tells us that together with the undivided heart the reason a virgin is a virgin is that she might pray unimpededly to her Lord: "The unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body andin spirit. Now this I say for your benefit, not to hold you in check, but to promote what is proper, and to make it possible for you to pray to the Lord without distraction." 34 Catholic tradition traces a long history in its apprecia-tion of the relationship between virginity and contempla-tion. Gazing upon the loveliness of the Lord is the virgin's one occupation: When you begin to seek Him, 0 virgin, I-Ie is present, for ¯ it is impossible that He should be absent from those who de-sire Him.Pursue Christ, 0 virgin, in your light, in your holy meditations, in your good works that shine before your Father who is in heaven. Seek Him at night, seek Him in your cell because He comes at night and knocks at your door. lie wishes you to be watching at all times and to find the door of your heart open. See to it, 0 virgin, that you diligently de-vote yourseff to prayer.= Being a life of knowing and loving, consecrated chastity renders the human person more like the divine: The pursuit of virginity, it seems to me, eemarked St. Gregory of Nyssa [himseff a married man], is an art and a power to lead a more divine life and it teaches how we who are bound by the bonds of the body may become similar to spiritual beings. The intent and purpose of this life is wholly = 1 Cor 6:19-20. u 1 Cor 7:34-5. =.St. Ambrose, Exhortatio virginitatis, cc. 9 and 10; P.L. 16:353, 357. Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to preserve the loftiness of the soul from being lowered by the onslaught of pleasures and to keep us who should be contem-plating and gazing upon divine and heavenly truth from lapsing into the mere inclinations of the body.8~ Hence, the virginal life is a living for the soul alone and that i~ why it may be termed angelic: the virgin contemplates the Father of perfect integrity and by gaz-ing upon His beauty becomes herself more beautiful: This is to live for the soul alone, namely, that one insofar as he can should imitate the manner of life of those powers who have no bodies, for these neither marry nor are given in marriage. But this is their intent, purpose, and perfect duty: to contemplate the Father of immaculate integrity and as far as imitation is possible to ~nhance their own beauty by gazing on the exemplar of beauty itself,~ From the negative point of view perfect purity makes indwelling converse easy in that it frees a man from the absorbing distractions of bodily pleasures. "If the human mind," writes St. Cyril of Alexandria, "is burdened and immersed in the pleasures of the flesh, it cannot look up to God, nor can it with a fixed gaze contemplate His deeds." as It follows, then, that the virgin's dominating occupa-tion according to the pure stream of Catholic tradition is contemplating the beauty of her Lover. "If therefore you have declined the nuptials of the sons of men from which you would have begotten sons of men," Augustine admonishes her, "love Him with your whole heart who is beautiful beyond the sons of men. You are free, your hearts are untied by the bonds of marriage. Contemplate the beauty of your Lover. Reflect on Him who is equal to His Father and subject to His Mother, ruling in heaven and serving on earth, creating all things, created [that is, human nature] among all things." a~ It is in this finality that we find the root cause for the sublime dignity of the virginal consecration: "That which more effec-tively disposes one for the most noble act is itself the more praiseworthy. But that which most effectively fits one for the act of contemplation--in which the highest purity is needed---is virginity." ,0 St. Thomas writes in the same thought pattern: "For this reason does holy virginity abstain from all venereal pleasure that it may be more freely at leisure for divine contemplation." 41 St. Gregory of Nyssa, De vlrginitate, c. 5; P.G. 25:273. Ibid., c. 4; P.G. 25:273. In lsaiam, 1, orat. 3; P.G. 37:78. De sancta virginitate, c. 54; P.L. 40:427-8. ~°St. Bonaventure, De perlectione evangelica, q.3, a.3: "Quod magis disponit ad actum nobilissimum est laudabilius; sed ad actum contemplationis, in quo requirit~r maxima puritas, magis disponit virginitas." 2-2, q.152, a.2 c: "Ad hoc autem pia virginitas ab omni delec-tatlone venerea abstinet, ut liberius divinae contemplationi vacet." In this light we can appreciate more fully St. Ambrose's charming axiom that "wherever a virgin of God is, there is a temple of God," and St. Jerome's judgment that "never has a golden or silver vessel been so dear to God as is the temple of a virginal body." If the whole raison d'etre of the virginal dedication is a loving contemplation of the Trinity, surely the chaste virgin is both a sign of the indwelling mystery and the person best disposed by state to live it, Sacramentality oI Virginity To appreciate the sign or witness value of virginity we must first touch briefly on the sacramentality of our supernatural economy. In a broad sense of the term, sacrament may be referred to any visible reality that in one way or another proclaims the divine reality. It implies a kind of wedding between the visible and the invisible whereby the latter is declared by the former. In this sense the whole universe is a gigantic sacrament of God for "the heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament proclaims his handiwork." 42 But the term can have stricter meanings; and it bears the most rich of them when it is applied to the incarnate Word, the sacrament of God. This Sign is the God He proclaims: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God: and the Word was God. And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us. And we saw his glory--glory as of the only-begotten of the Father4z . In him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bod-ily." 44 As the Church sings in her Christmas Preface, "while we know this God visibly we are by Him rapt up to a love of invisible goods." The Church, too, is herself a sacrament of Christ for she is mystically identified with .Him and proclaims Him to the world: "As the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, many as they are, form one body, so also is it with Christ4n.He who hears you, hears me.''46 Sacred Scripture likewise possesses a sacramentality, since as the Word assumed human flesh in Mary's womb, so does He assume human speech in the womb of the hagiographers' minds. Through these human words the Word can make us burn with love for God: "And they said to each other, 'Was not our heart burning within us while he was speaking on the road and explaining to us the Ps 18:2. ISJn 1:1,14. Col 2:9. 1 Cot 12:12. Lk 10:16. ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 29 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOus Scriptures?' " 47 The sacramentals, too, are obviously sacramental because they consist in a visible rite that somehow influences a supernatural effect. But most com-monly do we apply the term, sacrament, to our seven sacred signs that themselves produce the grace they sig-nify. In this whole orchestra of the sacramental universe the divine wisdom and goodness and power shine through. Because man is a composed being, he goes to his God by composed means. Man is an invisible-visible unit and so he rises to the fountain of all by invisible-visible sacra-nlents. In this extended sense of the word a virgin is a sacra-ment in her very dedicated person: St. Ambrose recorded sixteen centuries ago that on the occasion of receiving the veil of virginal consecration Marcellina heard the words, "[your Spouse] bestowed on you the pure sacra-ment of virginity." 48 We. think that Ambrose's thought was either that the veil is a sign of virginity or that as Marcellina was being dedicated to perfect purity she became a sign to the world of divine realities, and espe-cially that she became a virgin-sign, that is, a person representing total surrender to the Trinity. St. Gregory of Nyssa likewise saw a kind of sacramental meaning to virginity: "The virginal life.s~ems to be a certain image of that future immortality of beatitude. The virgin enjoys in this life the goods that shall be our supreme good at the resurrection." 49 Though he does not use the word, sacrament, Pope Plus XII c/early taught the sacramentality of virginity when he assigned the terms "image" and "sign" to de-scribe the virgin's witnessing function before the world: It surely, redounds without doubt to the highest glory of virgins that they are living images o[ that perfect integrity by Which the Church is joined to her divine Spouse. For this So-ciety founded by Jesus Christ it is a supreme joy that these same women are a marvelous sign of that flourtshing sanctity and spiritual fecundity for which she is eminent. Cyprian wrote well of this when he said: "They are the flower of that ec-clesial bud, the beauty and adornment of spiritual grace, a reason for our joy, a fresh and untainted work of praise and honor, an image of God corresponding to the holiness of the *~ Lk 24:32. At the turn of the first century St. Ignatius of Antioch already recognizes a special power in biblical words when he speaks of himself as "confugiens ad evangelium tamquam ad corporaliter praesentem Christum"--"fleeing to the gospel as to the bodily presence of Christ" (Ad Phila., 5, 1; P.G. 3:681). ~De virgin(bus, bk. 3, c. l; P.L. 16:219-20: "In te quoque sin-cerum sacramentum conferet [Sponsus] virginitatis." Ambrose was probably here using the term "sacrament" as Augustine defined it: Signa, "cure ad res divinas pertinent, sacramenta appellantur" (Letter 138, c. 1, n. 7; P.L. 35:527). ~° De virginitate, c. 13; P.G. 25:290. Lord, the more illustrious portion of the Lord's flock. The Church rejoices in them and the glorious fruitfulness of this Mother abundantly flourishes in them. The more the number of virgins grows, the more does the joy of this Mother increaseY In what ways is the virgin a witness-sign to the world? Sign o[ God-centeredness The doctrine of the divine indwelling in the souls of the just is undoubtedly a doctrine of God-centeredness. The whole aim of its preparation in the Old Testament and its revelation in the New is to impel men to an intimacy with the triune God. By being so close, so deli-cately close that He is within, he is asking each man to develop the kind of spiritual life that will prompt him sincerely to shout all his days: One thing I ,ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord.As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, 0 God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?~a The consecrated virgin is a sign that man must seek God as his all. Her whole being proclaims that human life must be orientated to the divine alone, for she is what she is precisely that she may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord, that she may unimpededly thirst for Him and be-hold His face. There are two elements involved in a dedicated vir-ginity. The first is a bodily integrity by which one has never committed .a complete and voluntary act against the virtue of purity nor has contracted and used marriage. The virginal body is whole, integral. The second element is the firm and pious will to abstain forever from any voluntary venereal pleasure. The will is firm by its vow and it is pious by its supernatural motive for the vow. Thus an adolescent who has never sinned seriously against chastity is integral in body but does not thereby enjoy the state of consecrated virginity, for even though the material element (b, odily incorruption) is present, the ~o Pius XII, Sacra virginitas, pp. 173-4. St. lsidore of Seville long ago saw the virgin as a sign of the Church: "Since the Church her-self is a virgin espoused to one Man, as the Apostle says, how much greater is the dignity of her members who preserve in the flesh what the whole Church preserves in her purpose?" (De ecclesiastids ol~iciis, bk. 2, c. 18; P.L. 83:804-5). Even earlier St. Augustine had said that "the whole Church is called a virgin" Enarratio in Ps. 147, n. 10; P.L. 37:1920. Vatican II, of course, frequently recalls the wit-nessing value of the evangelical counsels. ~1 Ps 26:4; 41:2-3. 4- 4- 4- Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, ~.968 31 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS formal.element (the intention of dedicating this integrity forever to God)is absent.5~ ~ The virgin is a sign of God, centeredness as regards both elements in her consecration. Her bodily integrity is'a peaceful and pure self-preservation for Him alone. Her intimate being is a garden enclosed. Her body 'that knows no voluntary disturbance of passion itself declares that God alone can have her, that the indwelling Trinity can abide in the tranquil garden that she, is. Such. is the thought of Paul when he says that "the virgin thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be hol~ in body and in spirit." Her chaste flesh is itself a. sign,: of concern with the Lord. Especially is she the sacred temple of the Trinity: "Holy is the temple of God, and :this temple you are." 5s The spiritual or formal element in th~ virgi.nal con.s.e-cration is likewise a sign to flae world of God-centered-ness. By her firm and pious will to give her heart to no other lover the virgin proclaims to all who will .hear that God alone is the objec.t of her concern and attention. This perpetual resolve declares in a per.fect~ manner the cruciality of God in the Christian life: "Ofie t~hing I ask of the Lord. that I may gaze on the loveliness of the' Lord." 54 It declares that the virgin is a. sign to men that all must love Him with a whole heart; a whole soul, a whole mind. She is a sacrament illustrative of Psalm 118:10: "With all my heart I seek you." To her especially does this God say: "You are precious in my eyes and glorious. I love you." ~ ~ Sign of Indwelling Mystery The divine inhabitation is an interpersonal intimacy between God and man effected by supernatural love and consummated by supematu[al joy: "If you love me, keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father and he will give you another Advocate to dwell with you for-ever, the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot re~'e.ive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. BUt you shall know him, because he will dw.ell with you, and be in you. If anyone love me~ he will k~ep .my word, and my Father will love hin~, and we will come' to. him and make our abode with him. 2. Abidd ifi my love'.'. These things I have spoken to you that.my ]oy. may be in. you, and that your joy may be made lull. God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God .in him r~ Because the religious vow' of chastity is not a vow of gi~ginit~, a non-Virgin~ can become a religious and can even share by her com-plete selLdonation in the sign character of the ~irgin. ~ 1 Cor 3:17. ~ u Ps 26:4. . M Is 43:4. ¯. The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Look to him that you may be radiant with joy. Taste and see how good the Lord is." 56 Yes, our mystery is a love-delight mystery. And such precisely is the virgin's forte. She is a virgin in order to love with an undivided heart, and she receives a hundredfold of love and delight by giving up all for her Spouse: ',Everyone who has left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or Wife, or children, or lands for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold and shall possess life everlasting. Because she can love unimpededly she can also more easily attain the ofuilness of joy that stems from love: "Eye has not seen nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." ~s Hence, our basic argument is simple: love. for God is closely interwoven with the indwelling mystery; the virgin is a virgin precisely to love; therefore, the virgin as a virgin is somehow woven into the indwelling mystery. She is a sign of it. This same truth stands out from another point of view¯ The divine inhabitation consecrates a persgn, puri-fies and spiritualizes the body: "Holy is the temple of God, and this temple you are. They who are adcording to the flesh mind the things of the flesh, but they who are according to the spirit mind the things of the spirit . You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you." ~9 When Paul comes to admonish the Corinthians to live chastely he caps a list of reasons (the resurrection of the body, membership in the Body of Christ, union with the Lord) with an appeal to the divine inabiding: "Do you not know that your members are the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have fxom God?" 50 Purity and the divine presence are intimately related. Virginity, therefore, as the loftiest type of purity is par excellence related to the indwelling mystery. We may say that the consecrated virgin is the visible sacrament of the indwelling: "Wher-ever a virgin of God is, there is a temple of God." It follows, then, that the virginal temple enjoys a singular splendor, shines with a' particular beauty be-cause of the Trinity abiding within. Especially true of her is the encomium of Yahweh: "You were exceedingly beautiful, with the dignity of a queen¯ You Were re-nowned among the nations for. your beauty," perfect as it was, because of my splendor which I had bestowed on ~U7J nM 1t 41:91:259-7. ,28; 15:9,11; 1 Jn 4:16; Rom 5:5; Ps $$:6,9. ~1 Cor 2:9. ~ 1 Cot 8:17; Rom 8:5,9. ~ ! Cor 6:19. ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968" ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS you, says the Lord God." 01 When she is a religious, her habit likewise shares in the sign character of her consecra-tion, since it proclaims that she is the set-aside property of the Trinity, that the habit encloses a temple beautiful by its tranquil purity. Sign o[ God's Cosmic Primacy The incarnation has wedded the uncreated to the created. It has raised the entire universe to a new level, a new sacredness, a new unity with its Author. All things are restored in the Christ, the Sacrament of God. Yet God still does enjoy a primacy in this new and sacred unity, a primacy by which He infinitely transcends the cosmos, a primacy by which the latter must not inter-fore with His glory, a primacy by which all else is orien-tated to His praise. One of the most radical (in both senses of "root" and "drastic") doctrinal themes in the gospels is the idea of voluntary poverty. It permeates the whole like an atmos-phere and it is so uncompromising that it must come as a shock to anyone who takes it seriously: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. The care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it is made fruitless. Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where rust and moth con-sume, and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither rust nor moth consume, nor thieves break in and steal. For where thy treasure is, there also will thy heart be . The foxes have dens, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head. If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell what thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me . Amen I say to you, with difficulty will a rich man enter the kingdom of heaven. And further I say to you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Woe to you richl for you are now having your comfort. Woe to you who are filledl for you shall hunger. Carry neither purse, nor wallet, nor sandals. Take heed and guard yourselves from all covetousness, for a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions. Every one of you who does not renounce all'that he possesses cannot be my disciple. You cannot serve God and mammon." 82 Whatever else these thunderbolts may be, they are not platitudes. Evangelical poverty is mani-festly an exchange of the cosmos for God. = Ez 16:13-4. ~ Mt 5:3; 13:22; 6:19-21; 8:20; 19:21,23-:4~ ;,Lk 6:24-5i 10:4; 12:15; 14:33; 16:13. The virgin is a poverty-~ign. She is a sacrament of the divine primacy in creation. Bodily integrity, of .course, has in itself no obvious connection with poverty, but consecrated integrity in the special supernatural economy in which we live does possess a relationship. This tieup is visible not only in the life of the virginal Holy Family and in the actual structure of the religious life of .the Church but also in the traditional thought of her teach-ers. St. Gregory of Nyssa writes of the fourth-century vir-gins together with his sister, Macrina, that "such was their life that every human v?nity was foreign to them and hence their life closely resembled that of the angels. They found their delight in temperance; they reckoned as their glory to be known by no one and their riches to possess nothing." 6z Pope Plus XII writes in the same vein when he say that a virginity consecrated to Christ is witness to a faith in the kingdom of heaven,~* and when he asks the rhetorical question: Are not sacred virgins who dedicate their lives to the service ¯ of the poor and the sick with no distinction as to race, social position, or religion, are not these virgins intimately united to their miseries and hardships and are they not most warmly attached to the poor as tho .ugh they were their actual mothers? ~ This same truth that dedicated chastity is a poverty-sign of God's primacy is borne out by a consideration of the nature of the dedication. If a virgin gives up a greater good, marriage, for the sake of serving God more effec-tiyely, it is only logical that she will give up lesser goods, material, possessions, for the same reason. She is, there-fore, a sign to the world that God comes first in the uni-verse, that He transcends not only human love but also non-human things. She is a living sign in the flesh pro-claiming to each man by her being: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind." ~ Her poverty declares by fact if not by word that "God is my riches." By it she may ask: "Whom else have I in heaven? And when I am wit.l~ you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the rock of m~] heart and my portion forever. For me to be near God is my good." ~ -How is the virgin's poverty made a visible sign of the Trinity's primacy in the cosmos? How does her inner love of the indwelling God and her detachment from things not God appear to the world? Life of St. Macrina, P.G. 25:596. Plus XlI, Sacra virginitas, p. 172. Ibid., p. 178. Mt 22:~7. Ps 75:25-6,28. 4. + 4. Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, ].9~B ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 36 First of all, she loves the poor and the downtrodden. She favors them, prefers to serve them because her Master was one of them. The world can see through her involve-ment with the havenots that God, not things are her concern. Sheknows that "he sins who despises the hungry; but happy is he who is kind to the poorl" She is aware that "he who oppresses the poor blasphemes his Maker, but he who is kind to the needy glorifies him." 6s Secondly, in her personal life she is as factually poor as her vocation permits. Simplicity shines out in her manner of life, in her convent, its furnishings, her habit. Her food is plain and she takes it in moderation and detachment. She has gladly deprived herself of superfluities and is a picture of a godly contentment. She has subscribed to Paul's thought: "Godliness with contentment is indeed great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and certainly .we can take nothing out; but having food and sufficient clothing, with these let us be content." 69 She welcomes the sufferings of deprivations when they occur and she is happily satisfied with them according to. the doctrine and practice of the Apostles: "Beloved, do not be startled at the trial by fire that is taking place among you to prove you, as if something strange were happening to you; but rejoice, insofar as you are partakers of the sufferings of Christ, that you may also rejoice with exul-tation in the revelation of his glory. Calling in the apostles and having thdm scourged, they charged them not to speak in the name of Jesus, and then let them go. So they departed from the presence of the Sanhedrin, rejoicing that they had been counted worthy to suffer disgrace for the name of Jesus." T0 She avoids worldly amusements: "Do not love the world," she says to her-self, "or the things that are in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father isnot in him." 71 She is a sacrament that declares to those who will listen: "Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." ~z Sign oI Feminine Dignity Since the fall it has been difficult for mankind to allot to woman her proper place in the divine scheme. Even she herself often does not see itand even more often does not live according to it. The virginal temple of the Ho!y Spirit is an existential sermon declaring to the world the Prov 14:21,31. Tim 6:6-8. Pt 4:12-3; Acts 5:40-1. Jn 2:15. Cot 2:9. personal worth of woman before God even aside from her natural maternal function in society. The virgin proclaims in her being woman's great nat-ural and supernatural intellectual value. Historically and aside from the influence of revelation woman has been looked upon largely as a means to man's welfare and pleasure. A naturalistic world lays great stock by her physical beauty when and while she has it and seems to feel that it is her main contribution to society. When after a decade or two her visible attractiveness has waned, interest in one is replaced by interest in another. On the other hand, by her charming modesty and evangelical poverty the Christian virgin is a living witness to woman's worth as an end. She deem.phasizes physical beauty to make the world realize~that it is secondary; that a woman is valuable especially because of her in-tellect and will; that she is a person, not a tool; that she has much to contribute to the good of mankind by her spiritual qualities tinted as they are with feminine traits; that she, too, no less than her male counterpart is es-pecially to spend herself in pursuing God: O God, you are my God whom I seek; for you my flesh pines and my soul thirsts like the earth, parched, lifeless and without water. Thus have I gazed toward you in the sanctuary to see your power and your glory, for your kindness is a greater good than life; my lips shall glorify youY The virgin underlines likewise the fresh beauty of womanly integrity and purity. She asserts in her person the blessedness of the pure of heart, the happiness of those who live an untainted life. She silently proclaims the angelic lot of the elect: "At the resurrection they will neither marry nor be given in marriage,' but will be as angels of God in heaven." 74 Even if the virginal temple of the Trinity were never to enter a classroom, never to make an apostolic visit to the poor, never to walk a hos-pital corridor, she nevertheless is a witness to the charm of a pure womanhood and the dignity of unsullied in-tegrity. The virgin is a sign of supernatural motherhood. She has declined a natural fecundity only to embrace a loftier, more universaI fruitfuIness. Like her Spouse, she has come that men "may have life, and have it more abun-dantly." ~ There are, of course, two kinds of birth and therefore two kinds of life to be conceived and nourished: "Unless a man be born again of water and the Spirit, he. cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the ~ Ps 62:2-4. ¢~ Mt 22:30. ~ Jn 10:10. ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 37 ÷ 4. 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Spirit is spirit." r8 Somehow God has deigned to .share this supernatural parenthood with ~man, for the latter can say: "My dear children, with whom I am in labor again, unti! Christ is formed in you." 7r The dedicated virgin is a mother; she is a sign of a superior feminine fecundity because her maternity surpasses a natural ma-ternity. 7s The Church implies this superiqrity when she sings on Holy Saturday night: "It would have profited us nothing to be born unless we had also been redeemed." The virgin, then, is a witness to the fact that the ecclesial apostolate can be feminine, that the woman's motherly traits and desires are fulfilled in the supernatural order as well as in the natural. She is once again a sign of feminine dignity. Sign of Love lor M'en To the casual observer the religious is a woman who seems devoid of anything, one might call a living love for men; and yet if she is anything at all to the world, she is a lover of it. We may go so far as to say she is so much a lover of men that she is a sign set up among the nations of how we should love our fellows. Three revealed premises lead us to this conclusion. The first is that the mark that sets the supernatural man apart from his natural counterpart is the Christlike love he has for his neighbor: "By this will all men know [it is a sign] that you are my disciples, if you have love for one an-other." 79 The second is that one is essentially a super-natural man by a double love, for God and for neighbor: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God.with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. And the sec-ond is like it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," s0 The third is that the virgin is of all people the undivided lover of God, and ,hence of neighbor also: "He who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the un-married woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit." sl If the love of God and neighbor are inseparable,s2 and if the consecrated x;irgin is wholly devoted to love of .God, she cannot avoid being devoted by profession to love of ~ Jn 3:5-6. ~7 Gal 4:19. ~S,,Truly and solidly does the virgin mother rejoice, for she by her spiritual work gives birth to immortal children" (St. Gregory of Nyssa, De virginitate, e. 13; P.G. 25:289). r~ Jn 13:35. *~ Mt 22:37-9. ~ 1 Cor 7:33-4. ~ 1 Jn 4:20-1. neighbor. And furthermore, if this latter love is the sign of a disciple, she is especially a sign. The history of consecrated virginity confirms our rea-soning process. The pages of the Church's apostolic jour-nal are replete with the extraordinary loves of extraordi-nary women. If actions clamor more loudly than words, we must reckon these consecrated women among the greatest lovers of men the world has seen. Any list must be incomplete, but we need think only of Eustochium, Macrina, Catherine of Alexandria, Clare, Catherine of Siena, Angela Merici, Margaret Marie, Teresa of Avila. The world needs the lofty love these dedicated persons exemplify. Parents easily love their'children on a natural plane, but not so easily on the supernatural. Often na-tions react toward one another on the basis of deception and intrigue, very often on that of a cold diplomacy more or less mingled with justice, seldom with a supernatural love. The world desperately needs the love-sign of the consecrated virgin. She is a fresh flower in a sandy desert. Sacrament of Contemplation "For this reason does a holy virginity abstain from every venereal pleasure, that it may be more freely at leisure for divine contempIation." sn In such manner does St. Thomas summarize Catholic thought on the finality of perfect purity. In the Christian economy one does not embrace chastity to avoid something evil, to shirk re-sponsibility, to attain a natural peace and security. These reasons are either inadequate or plainly wrong. Complete chastity is aimed at peaceful prayer: "The unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord." Just as the virgin is a sign of the primacy of God and of the indwelling mystery itself, so is she a sign that converse with the Trinity is man's primary occupation. The virgin is a sacrament of contemplation for several reasons. Her contemplative love is reserved for God alone: "God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God in him." s~ She has given her heart to no other lover. The virgin rests in God only. Though all men should be able to join the Psalmist in saying, "Only in God be at rest, mysoul," s5 the virgin is most likely to say it and to live according to it. She has given up the comforts of marriage and family. God is her rest and comfort, for indeed He is "the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort." s~ s~ 2-2, q.152, a.2. ~ 1 Jn 4:16. ~ Ps 61:6. sa2 (;or 1:3. Vlrginat Temples ÷ ÷ ÷ Thom~ Dubay, $.M~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The virgin delights in God. In her particularly and in ~/lofty manner are fulfilled the sentiments of the Psalmist when he declares: "Whom else have I in heaven? And when I am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the rock of my heart and my portion forever. For me to be near God is my good." s7 She especially o£ all men can say: "Whom else have I and whom else could I want who have All?" She especially can say: "The earth delights me not, and I have proven it by giving up the earth, for You only have I chosen, You only are the rock of my heart and my por-tion forever." She especially is likely to assert: "But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge--I have chosen no other good, no other refuge." ¯ The virgin calmly contemplates her virginal God. St. Gregory Nazianzen back in the fourth century reflected the eastern persuasion of an absolute value in virginity (aside from .its benefits after the fall), when he remarked that "the first virgin is the holy Trinity." ss It is perfectly true that the divine processions are completely without passion or loss of integrity, for the divine nature is the purest spirit. The family joy of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is most pure, most tranquil, most integral, most supreme. The virgin's contemplation is a reflection of it. She gazes on the virginal loveliness of the Trinity purely, calmly, integrally, supremely: "One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord." S9 She is the sacrament of divine contemplation. Sign of Final Victory The culmination and summation of the sign character of a holy virginity is the body-soul triumph of eternity. Virginity is eschatological. It points not to earth but to heaven, not to time but to eternity, not to the place of struggle .but to that of victory. Of the relatively few men-tions of virginity in the New Testament it is significant that at least three of them refer to the Ultimate triumph. Jesus describes the life of perfegt purity as angelic and heavenly: "At the resurrection they will neither marry nor be given in marriage, but will be as angels of God in heaven." a0 St. Paul explicitly ties up detachment with the parousia--or at least with each man's individual death---' and the parousia with the motivation behind a dedicated purity: s~ Ps 72:25-6,28. ss Poema 1; P.G. 21:287-8. s~ Ps 26:4. ~e Mt 22:$0. But this I say, brethren, the time is short; ifremains that those who have wives b~ as if they had none; and thos~ who weep, as though not weeping; and those who rejoice, as though not rejoicing; and those who buy, as though not possessing; and those who use this world, as though not using it, for this world as we see it is passing away. I would have you free from care. He who is unmarried is concerned about the things of the Lord, how he may please God. Whereas he who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided. And the unmarried woman, and the virgin, thinks about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy in body and in spirit.~ St. John assigns to virgins a select place in the celestial life with the risen Lamb of God: "These follow the Lamb wherever he goes. These were purchased from among men, first-fruits unto God and unto the Lamb, and in their mouth there was found no lie; they are without blemish." 02 What is the final victory and how is the virgin an image ~f it? Essentially the triumph is the beatific vision in a risen body, the face-to-face, supremely delightful sight of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, one God: "We see now through a mirror in an obscure manner, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know even as I have been known. Beloved, now we are the children of God, and it has not yet appeared what we shall be. We know that, when he appears, we shall be like to him, for we shall see him just as he is. Eye has not seen or ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what things God has prepared for those who love him." 93 This is the victory of all victories: to attain the ineffable joy of clasping unending Loveableness, Beauty in an unending embrace. The virgin is the sign of this embrace. The vir-gin is the sign of this embrace because even on earth she has begun the embrace in her undivided heart and in the most effective way open to her. 'She is a virgin precisely to contemplate the Trinity. "One thing," she proclaims by profession, "I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of the Lord." ~4 Her earthly con-templation is imperfect to be sure; it is not intuitive; but it is the beginning of the end. She is a sign of this essential beatitude because her virgina! joys in God are a prelude and sketch of the joys all the children of men shall even-tually have in God when they are neither married nor given in marriage. The otherworldiness of her life of ~1 1 Cur -34. ~ Apoc 14:4-5. It is not clear whether virginity is meant here strictly or metaphorically. ~ 1 Cur 13:12; 1 Jn 3:2; 1 Cur 2:9. This last text refers to super-natural wisdom through faith and/or the beatific glory through vision. ~ Ps 26:4. 4. 4. 4. Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 41 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS poverty and purity shouts to men that we have not here a lasting city, that we are a pilgrim people. As we shall note in a later article, one of the accidental triumphs of eternity due to the indwelling Trinity is the victory of the risen body over our passible body: There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another of the stars; for star differs from star in glory. So also. with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown in corrup-tion rises in incorruption; what is sown in dishonor rises in glory; what is sown in weakness rises in power; what is sown a natural body rises a spiritual body. For this corruptible body must put on incorrupdon, and this mortal body must. put on immortality. But when this mortal body puts on immortal-ity, then shall come to pass the word that is written, "Death is swallowed up in victoryl" ~ This splendid victory, this glorious resurrection of the human frame is due to the indwelling presence of the vivifying Spirit: "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, then he who raised Jesus Christ from the dead will also bring to life your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who dwells in you." 06 Though the virgin's body does not yet enjoy supernatural agility, nor immortality, nor brilliance, it does begin to share in the victory to come and it is surely a sign of it. By her consecrated purity she has freed herself from the unruly disturbances attendant on even the good use of marriage and so she is an image of the bodily calm that shall be the lot of all men in the heavenly city. Further-more, the being of all temples of the indwelling Trinity is somehow spiritualized even while they are on earth: "You, however, are not carnal but spiritual, if indeed the Spirit of God dwelIs in you." 0r This burning Fire of love elevates in some mysterious manner the being of fallen men by abiding within. Because of her eschatologi-cal orientation the virgin temple is an apt sign of this incipient purification, elevation, spiritualization effected by the Spirit on earth as a preparation for the complete purification, elevation, spiritualization of heaven. Because she is a sacrament of things to come the con-secrated virgin should be an example to men of the in-carnational detachment so beautifully formulated by St. Paul. She looks and lives for eternity: "We look not at the things that are seen, but at the things that are not seen. For the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal." 0s Because she is living for the risen body and the intuitive vision of the Trinity, she has a taste for heavenly things, not worldly ones: "If you have risen with Christ, seek the things that are above," ~1 Cor 15:41-4,58-~. ~Rom 8:11. ~ ,Rom 8:9. ~1 Cor 4:18. she says by her life, "where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Mind the things that are above, not the things that are on earth." ~ When we see her religious garb we are reminded that because the time is short, "those who rejoice [are to :be] as though not rejoicing; and those who buy, as though not possessing; and those who use this world, as though not using it, for this world as .we see it is passing away." 100 She teaches us by her set-aside position in the world that our all-absorbing yearning must be finally to. see the face of God: "As the hind longs, for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, 0 God. Athirst is my soul for God, the living God. When shall I go and behold the face of God?" 101 The virgin, then, is a temple of the Trinity, at once in the world but not of it, crucified but refreshed, a lover of men but first a lover of God,~ beautifully plain without but even more beautifully charming within, busy at work but intent on contemplation, occupied on earth but orientated to heaven. For she bears heaven in her breast. (to be continued) ~ Col 3:1-2. ~o 1 Cor 7:30.-I. lox Ps 41:2-3. .4" + + Virginal Temples VOLUME 27, 1968 JAMES I. O'CONNOR, S.J. Alienation of Manuscripts and Works of Art James I. O'Con-nor, $.J., is professor. of canon law at Bel-larmine $chool of Theology; 230 South Lincoln Way; North Aurora, Illi-nois 60542. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Teilhard de Chardin's writings have been receiving considerable attention and study in recent years. Very naturally, this interest in his works has spread to the man himsel[ and his life. Among the events reported about his life is that he consulted two canonists as to whether or not he as a professed religious could lawfully appoint a literary executor to whom he would bequeath his manuscripts and whom he would leave free to dis-pose of them as he saw fit. The report never indicates who the canonists were. Neither is any reason or justifi-cation given for their alleged affirmative reply to Teil-hard's question. Whether or not this story about Teilhard de Chardin has been the occasion, if not the cause, of other re-ligious raising the same or a related question, the fact remains that the issue of the'right of a professed re-ligious to alienate manuscripts he has written is being asked frequently. From this question it is an easy step to another question: May a professed religious alienate works of art created by the religious? Alienation is any act whereby the right of ownership, in whole or in part, is transferred to another person. Thus, alienation is had, for example, by selling the property in question, or by giving it away, or by ex-changing it for another piece of property of like or dif-ferent nature. In all tl~ese instances, the owner has com-pletely surrendered his title or ownership of the original property, whether or not he received anything in re-turn. The basic issue in the question of alienation of manu- \ scripts or works of art produced by a professed religious is whether such an act falls under his vow of poverty or, on the contrary, is it outside the scope of the vow of poverty. Before attempting to answer this question, yet an-other question must be posed: Do the manuscripts or works of art have a money value? For the present, only manuscripts will be considered; works of art will be discussed aRerwards. Manuscripts To the final question above, the Salamanca theolo-gians equivalently gave a very definite negative reply and very strongly defended complete ownership by a religious of his manuscripts. They expressed themselves in this fashion: You will ask whether a professed religious has real control over his manuscripts to such an extent that he can carry them with him wherever he goes, give them away, burn them, or exercise in their regard any other act which are functions characteristic of a proprietor? The reply is in the affirmative, whether the manuscripts are his own or given him by some-body else, whether the result of his own work or that of some-body else. Further, without permission of his prelate, he may dispose of them in view. of.his own death. This is true because manuscripts, inasmuch as they are the ideas of his mind, are something spiritual. Moreover, since the accessory partakes of the nature of the primary, and since manuscripts are acces-sories to knowledge as flowing from it and begotten by it, hnd are an aid to it, therefore, lust as knowledge does not fall under the vow of poverty, neither do manuscripts. As a result, a re-ligious can become their owner. Furthermore and finally, this is true because this is the [~ractice, common usage, and custom even of reformed religious institutes.1 St. Alphonsus Liguori also gave a negative reply to that final question above. He defended his opinion because manuscripts are something spiritual since they are products of one's genius, ,e, ven though elaborated by outside endeavor; and because the3 pertain to the field of knowledge, which does not come under the vow of poverty; and because this is the common practice.--This explains the brief of Benedict XIII that religious who have been promoted to the episcopacy must turn over to their superiors all their prop.ert.y except their manuscripts. Moreover, in Sporer's work, it is stated that Clement VIII expressly declared that religious may, of their own volition, alienate their manuscripts, even without permission. [Contin.] Tournely believes the same thing pro-vided that--in this he agrees with others--other provision is not set down in the constitutions of the order."~ Sporer was a Franciscan Recollect who wrote a work a Collegii Salmanticensis Cursus theologiae moralis (Venice: Pez-zana, 1764), tract. XII, cap. II, punct. XII, n. 195. Note: All translations in this article are those of the author ex-cept translations of canons; these are taken from the authorized English version (Rome: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1919). = Theologia moralis (Rome: Typographia Vaticana, 1907), ed. Gaud~, tom. 2, lib. IV, cap. 1, n. 14. Alienation VOLUME 27, ~.968 ÷ ÷ ÷ lames I. O'Connor, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS also entitled Theologia moralis. To Sporer's writings a supplement to his treatment of the matter of the Ten Commandments was added by Kilian Kazenberger, also a Franciscan Recollect. It is in this supplement that is found the reference made by St: Alphonsus and it reads as follows: It is a highly probable opinion that a religious is master of his manuscripts and that he can dispose of them at will. Writ-ings are, as it were, part of his knowledge and acquired learn-ing. Therefore, just as the religious can take along with him his knowledge and learning or can communicate it to another, so also can he do it with his own writings. These are nothing more than the ideas of a man philosoph!z!ng. As a result, the religious has direct control over his wnungs themselves but only indirect control over the paper, because control over the writings cannot be exercised without paper. And this is why, on the word of Corolianus, Tract. de Casious Resets., p. 2, casu 16, num. 19, Clement VIII declared that religious can alienate their manuscripts without p~rmission, notwithstanding his own bulla on Bestowal oI Properties? The bulla or constitution of Clement VIII referred to is that beginning with the words Religiosae congrega-tiones, 4 dated 19 June, 1594. In it the pope had pro-hibited donations of any kind by reiigious to any per-son outside the religious order and no exception was anywhere made in it for manuscripts written by a re-ligious. While a number of writers state that Clement VIII said that religious retain full ownership over their man-uscripts even to the extent that they also possess the right to alienate them,-nobody, as many later com-mentators point out, offers any proof that Clement VIII ever said what is ascribed to him. One author just re-fers to another author, for example, St. Alphonsus re-fers to the Sporer supplement, which, in turn, refers to Corolianus, but no one gives any data to prove Cle-ment VIII said or wrote anything other than what he set forth in his constitution Religiosae congregationes. The reference to Benedict XIII in St. Alphonsus' commentary cited above does not prove that the manu-scripts of a religious do not fall under the vow of poverty. So far from proving St. Alphonsus' poin.t is the document of Benedict XIII that it proves the con-trary, namely, that manuscripts per se do fall under the vow of poverty. In § 5 of the document, Postulat humili-tati nostrae,5 the pope prohibits any religious promoted ~Patritius Sporer, Theologia moralis: Supplementum theologiae moralis decalogalis (Venice: Pezzana, 1731), cap. II, .sect. III, n. 149. 4 Bullarium Romanum, ed. Taurinensis, tom. 10, pp. 146-50; ed. Mainardi, tom. 5, pars 2, pp. ~I-3. ~St. Alphonsus identifies the document of Benedict XIiI in the place cited in Iootnote 2 in n. 15 in the paragraph beginning "Praefatam autem." The document itself, dated 7 March, 1725, is to the episcopacy or other ecclesiastical dignity from taking with him "books, money, goods entrusted to them or deposited with them, and any kind whatever of movable or immovable goods, except his writings, clothing, and breviary." e The writings or manuscripts of the religious are excepted from all the previous items, all of which certainly pertain to the vow of poverty as do also the other two exceptions, namely, his clothing and his breviary. Furthermore, no authorization is given by Benedict XIII to a religious to alienate his manu-scripts. While, according to the Salamanca theologians and St. Alphonsus, it was the common opinion of the time that manuscripts did not come within the scope of the vow of poverty, there were prominent authors defending the opposite side of the question. Thus Peter M. Pas-serinus de Sextula, O.P., writing in 1663, holds that a religious has no ownership over his manuscripts as far as alienation of them is concerned, although the re-ligious does have the right to use his own manuscripts and to carry them away with him. There were also some commentators who distin-guished between manuscripts which had a money value and those which had no money value but simply served as aids to memory for their authorY The latter type of manuscripts would not form matter of the vow of pov-erty. The dispute as to whether the manuscripts of a re-ligious come under his vow of poverty, especially as regards alienation of them, remained, until the present century, practically as it was at the time of St. A1phon-sus. s In 1911, an indication of the Holy See's viewpoint in the matter appeared in the reply to a question proposed to the Sacred Congregation for Religious: "II, If superiors have forbidden the publication of some manuscript, or if the imprimatur has been denied, may religious turn over the said manuscript to some publisher who will publish it with the imprimatur of his [the publisher's] local ordinary and suppress the author's name?" The re-ply given on 15 June, 1911 was: "In the negative." 9 found in Bullarium Romanum, ed. Taurinensis, tom. 22, pp. 129-33; ed. Mainardi, tom. 11, pp. 377-80. ~ Italics are in the original document. 7 De hominum statibus el ol~iciis, q. 186, a. 7, n. 412, referred to in Franciscus X. Wernz, S.J., and Petrus Vidal, S.J., lus canonicum (Rome: Gregorian University, 1933), tom. III, n, 349, b). s A. Vermeersch, S.J., De religiosis institutis et personis (Bruges: Beyaert, 1907), tom. 1, n. 254. ~Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 3 (1911), pp. 270-1; also in Fontes Codicis iuris canonici, n. 4410. Question I of this inquiry had asked if religious in simple vows needed an imprimatur to publish their 4, 4, 4, Al~natlon VOLUME 27, 1968 47 ÷ ÷ lames I. O'Co~nor~ S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Slightly over two years later, another question was submitted to the Sacred Congregation for Religious: "Do religious, whether in solemn vows or in simple vows, who have produced a manuscript during the dme of their vows, have ownership of it to such an extent that they can give it away or alienate it by any title whatever?" The full assembly of the cardinals of the Sacred Congregation discussed the question and finally decided: "In the negative." This decision was reported to and confirmed by Pope Pius X on 13 July, 1913.l° Thereafter all commentators maintained that no re-ligious, whether he has solemn vows or simple vows, may perform any act of alienation of his manuscripts if those manuscripts have a money value. On the other hand, the common opinion was that all religious, even those in solemn vows, may retain their own manuscripts for their own intellectual or spiritual life.ix That 1913 decision was embodied in canon 580, § 2 of the Code of Canon Law in the following terms: "What-ever the religious acquires by his own industry., be-longs to the institute." Moreover, the sources of that section of that canon explicitly cite the 1913 decision. As a result, the ownership of manuscripts produced by professed religious and having a money value belong to his community. Consequently, he may not dispose of them without authorization from a superior competent to grant such authorization. A few authors raise some related issues. Thus Coro-nata12 observes and cites a number of other authors as also noting that a religious has no form of ownership over manuscripts which he produced by order of his su-perior and for whose production the community sus-tained special expenses. Another allied question treats of the religious who, when he is near death, pel~onally or through others burns or otherwise destroys his manuscripts. He may be moti-vated to such action by a sense of humility lest his memory be held in honor. Nevertheless, in the objective order, works just as religious in solemn vows. An affirmative answer was returned. l°/lcta ,,lpostolicae Sedis, v. 5 (1913), p. $66; Fontes Codicis itzris canonici, n. 4417. 11Jules Besson, ~'Les religieux et la propri~t~ des manuscrits," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 45 (1913), pp. 709-15; Matthaeus Conte a Coronata, O.F.M.Cap., Imtitutiones iuris canonici, 2d ed., v. I (Turin: Marietti, 19~9), p. 764, note 5; Dominicus M. PrOmmer, O.P., Manuale iuri~ canonici (Freiburg: Herder, 1933), 6th ed., p. 297, q. 223.1; I. Salsmans, S.J., "Annotationes in dubium circa manu-scripta religiosorum," Periodica, v. 7 (1913), pp. 165-8, especially n. 4; Timotheus Schaefer, O.F.M.Cap., De ,,eligiosis (Rome: Vatican Press, 1947), 4th ed., nn. 1114-5; Wernz-Vidai, Ius canonicum, n. ~50. ~ In the place noted in footnote 11. commentatorsl~ accuse him of acting badly and of sin-ning. They a/so point out that he shows himself quite un-grateful to his community which provided him with the opportunity and the means to carry on his studies. There also arises the question about manuscripts which were produced by a person before he pro-nounced his religious vows and which have a money value. In the case of solemnly professed religious, these, like other properties, would have to be provided for in his renunciation before his solemn profession (c. 581, § I). Religious with simple vows would retain the sim-ple owners.hip or title to them (c. 580, § 1). Furthermore, if they derive royalties or other form of monetary re-turn from their manuscripts, such monies would belong to the religious and not to the community. This solution follows that given by the Sacred Congregation for Re-ligious in the case of persons who are now professed religious in simple vows but who become beneficiaries of monetary compensations for military service rendered before their religious profession,x4 As for the disposal of such monies, the norms set down in canon 569 would obtain,~5 that is: § I. Before the profession of simple vows, whether temporary or perpetual, the novice must cede, for the whole period during which he will be bound by simple vows, the administration of his property to whomsoever he wishes, and dispose freely of its use and usufruct, except the constitutions determine otherwise. § 2. If the novice, because he possessed no property, omitted to make this cession, and if subsequently property come into his possession, or if, after making the provision, he becomes under whatever title the possessor of other property, he must make provision, according to the regulations of § 1, for the newly acquired property, even if he has already made simple pro-fession. A final question regarding manuscripts by professed religious and the 1913 decision is: Did that decision defin-itively settle the initial question as to whether manu-scripts with a monetary value may not be alienated without due authorization by superiors, because such action would violate the vow of poverty, or, rather, would it violate simply the vow of obedience as being placed against an ecclesiastical law? Some authors point out that the scope of the vow of poverty at times varies somewhat from community to community. Consequently, while manuscripts with a XaF. Plat, O.F.M.Cap., Praelectiones iuris regularis (Tournai: Casterman, 1888), 2d ed., v. 1, p. 242,2; Priimmer, Manuale, p. 297, q.223.1. 2, T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J., Canon Law Digest ]or Religious (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), v. 1, pp. 311-2, questions V and VL 26 Schaefer, De religiosis, n. 1115. Alienation VOLUME 27, 1968 d9 + lames I. O'Connor, Sdo REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS money value may be included under the vow of poverty in one community because of the wording of the con-stitutions, they may not in another community. As a result, these authors believe that the 1913 reply did not definitely decide whether such manuscripts are included under the vow of poverty. Nevertheless, all such com-mentators maintain that the authors of such manu-scripts may not alienate them, whether the root of the prohibition is found in the vow of poverty or in the vow of obedience.1~; As a last word about religious authors and their manuscripts, it may be worth noting that, while this study has been primarily concerned with the surrender of ownership of manuscripts to persons outside the re-ligious institute to which the author belongs, a much milder form of alienation may also be prohibited by constitutions, customs, or superiors even between mem-bers of the same religious body. Consequently, it is not unheard of that between religious of the same institute or even of the same house, general or particular per-mission is required for the donation, loan; or exchange of certain items among which manuscripts may be in-cluded. If there is such a restriction in a given institute, that restriction continues in force until and unless it is duly changed or modified. Works ot Art Under this heading is included everthing which is usually classi

Issue 19.2 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review Prayer for the General Council by The Sacred Apostolic Peniten~tiary The Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience by Thoinas Dub'ay, S.M. Temptation: A ÷ R = S by John Carroll Futrell, s.J. Charity the Unifying Principl'e of Religious Life by Sister Consuela Marie, S.B.S. Neuroticism and Perfection by Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents Views, News, Previews Questions and Answers Book Reviews 65 67 77 83 93 102 106 109 119 . Prayer for the General Council Sacred APostolic Penitentiary [The following prayer and the declaration of the attached indulgences is translated from Acta Apostolicae Sedis.I DIVINE SPIRIT, who were sent by the Father in ~.he name of Jesus and who remain present in the Church to govern her unerringly, pour forth, we ask of You, the fullness of Your gifts upon the ecumenical council. Tenderest of teachers and of comforters, enlighten the minds of our holy prelates who, in eager allegiance to the Roman Pontiff, will make up the assemblies of the sacred synod. Grant that abundant fruit thay come from this council; may the light and the strength of the Gospel be diffused'more deeply and more widely throughout human society; may the Catholic religion and the diligent work of the missions flourish with increased vigor; and may the happy result be a fuller knowledge of the teaching of the Church and a salutary progress in Christian morality. 0 welcome Guest of the soul, establish our minds in truth and bring our hearts to a ready obedience so that what is determined in the council may be sincerely accepted and promptly fulfilled by us. We also pray to You for those sheep who are not yet of the one fold of Jesus Christ; as they glory in the name of Christian, so may they finally come to true unity under the guidance of the one Pastor. By a kind of new Pentecost renew your marvelous works in this our time; .grant to Holy Church that, unanimously and insistently persevering in prayer together with Mary, the Mother of Jesus, she may, under the guidance of St. Peter, enlarge the kingdom of the divine Savior, a kingdom of truth arid of justice, of love and of peace. Amen. September 23, 1959 By virtue of ~he powers given to it by His Holiness John XXIII, the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary makes the following grants: 1) a partial indulgence of ten years to be gained by the 65 PRAYER FOR THE GENERAL COUNCIL faithful who recite the above prayer devoutly and with contrite heart; 2) once a month a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions if they have :piously recited the prayer for an entire month. All things to the contrary not withstanding. N. Card. CANALI, Penitentiary Major S. de Angelis, Substitute 66 The Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience Thomas Dubay, IF ANYTHING is anathema to our western world it is thought control in whatever guise it may appear. Understandably enough, our democratic horror at the least restriction on freedom of thought and expression strikes a sympathetic note in the heart of the western religious, for even he cannot escape the moods of a pluralistic society. So true is this sympathy for freedom, that not a few religious find the commonly taught doctrine on obedience of the intellect an incomprehensible, if not impossible bit of spirituality. One can encountei good religious whose very constitu-tions carry a stipulation on obedience of the judgment and yet who are almost scandalized by that stipulation, who may even think it a mistaken insertion because they view it either as im-possible of fulfillment or as an unjust attempt to curtail reasonable freedom. In this article we. propose to investigate psychologically the theory and the practice of intellectual obedience, that is, the conforming of one's judgment to the judgment of the superior. We will preface our analysis, however, with a review of the com-monly received doctrine on obedience of the intellect, a doctrine classically enunciated by St. Ignatius of Loyola in his well-known letter on obedience and recently sealed by the strong words of Pope Pius XII in his 1957 address to the General Congregation of the Society of Jesus. What Is Intellectual Obedience? Before answering our question positively, we might with profit dwell for a moment on what intellectual obedience is not. Con- " forming one's judgment to the superior's judgment d~es not mean merely that upon receiving an apparently unwise command, the subject judges that in these concrete circumstances he (the subject) ' intellectually agrees that the superior is to be obeyed. A religious does not make the superior's judgment his own simply by ac-cepting the intellectual proposition that this command must be The Reverend Thomas Dubay is presently stationed at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 S. Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. 67 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious executed, for that is accepting a solid truth of ascetical theology, not a superior's judgment. Obedience of the understanding is more than an intellectual acceptance of the theory behind religious obedience. Secondly, obedience of judgment does not mean that a religious violates his intellectual honesty by "agreeing" with the superior no matter how patently wrong the latter may be -- and sometimes is. Nor does it mean that a subject must think as his superior thinks on any subject whatsoever. The superior has no infallible authority from God and no universal commission to teach, and so he has no right to expect his subjects to be of one mind with him on free questions unrelated to religious obedience. If intellectual obedience is none of these, what, then, is it? Although a religious can avoid an offense against the virtue or the vow of obedience by a mere execution of the matter commanded, yet perfection adds to execution a full surrender of both the will and the intellect. There are, consequently, three elements nec-essarily included in an act of lJerfect obedience: execution of the superior's directive, wanting to execute it because of the superior's authority, and thinking in its regard as the superior thinks insofar as such is possible. As regards this third element, we can hardly improve on St. Ignatius' explanation, an explanation ratified by the explicit authority of the Sovereign Pontiff: "He who aims at making an entire and perfect oblation of himself, besides his will, must offer his understanding, which is a distinct degree anal the highest degree of obedience. He should not only wish the same as the Superior, but think the same, submitting his own judgment to the Superior's, so far as a devout will can incline the understanding. For although this faculty has not the freedom which the will has, and naturally assents to what is presented to it as true, there are, however, many instances where the evidence of the known truth is not coercive, in which it can with the help of the will favor one side or the other. When this happens, every obedient man should bring his thought into conformity with the thought of the Superior" (Letter on Obedience, translated by William J. Young, S.J. [New York: America Press, 1953], p. 10). It is not our purpose here to develop the idea of intellectual obedience, but rather to analyze its possibility from the psycholog-ical point of view. Our aim, then, can be ~atisfied by two or three illustrations of the Ignatian teaching. Father X, a religious priest, is attached to a parish, and during Lent is charged by his superior to preach a series of sermons on the capital sins. Father X rightly 68 March, 1960 |NTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE believes he knows the parish and its needs well, and he further thinks that those who come to Lenten devotions need a series of sermons on fraternal charity far more than one on the capital sins. Surely the difference of opinion between Father X and his superior is not~black and white either way. As is the case with most com-mands in religious life, the evidence is not coercive; the matter is at least debatable. If Father X has a "devout will" in the Ignatian sense, he will try insofar as he can to see and accept his superior's judgment about- the advisability of a series on the capital sins. Rather than adduce mental or vocal reasons against the superior's view (and that is his natural inclination), he summons up reasons that support' the superior's position, and he tries to solve his own objections. In other ~words, he makes a serious attempt to judge .the matter as his superior judges it. Sister Y is denied permission to invite to the pa['lor someone she thinks'she could aid spiritually by a word of encouragement or advice. Sister conforms her judgment to her superior's, not merely by agreeing to the proposition that she ought not to invite this person because she has been denied permission, but by trying to agree to the proposition that, all things considered, seeing this individual now is not wise in itself. Brother Z is refused permission to buy tools that he obviously needs to do his job competently. Brother knows clearly that the monastery is not h.ard-pressed financially; and he knows, too, that his present set of tools is simply not adequate. What must Brother's "devout will" do. in this situation? Rest in peace. He need not even try to conform his judgment to his superior's, because the case is clear (in our supposition, at least). Since it is patent that the superior is wrong, even the perfection of obedienc~ does not require Brother to believe that he is right. Nature of Intellectual Assent The difficulties involved in seeing the advisability and even the possibility of a submission of the judgment are prominent in the cases of Father X and Sister Y. Brother Z's situation offers no great problem. If the intellect is a necessary, determined, non-free faculty, how can it be moved to accept one view rather than another? If Father X's intellect is determined by the evidence at hand and if he can see his motives for assent but not his superior's, how can he honestly conform his judgment to his superior's? And the same is true of Sister Y. " 69 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious The intellect, the faculty that knows in an immaterial manner, the faculty whose proper object is the universal idea, is admittedly a non-free cognitive power. It can know only what is given it, for °the knowing intellect is what the scholastics call the possible intellect, and the possible intellect is determined by the impressed species. Though this terminology may be obscure to the non-philosopher,, the fundamental idea is quite simple. Just as the eye is passive and determined in the sense that it can see only what is given to it, so also on the more immaterial plane is the intellect passive and. determined because it can "see" only what is given to it to understand. While we readily grant the non-free character of the intellect's grasp of the idea (the simple apprehension of the philosopher, the knowing of what a thing is), we do not grant that all of his judg-ments are determined or non-free. By a judgment we mean, of course, the attribution of one idea to another or the denial of one idea of another. I attribute white to house in the judgment, "the house is white," or I deny right of James in the judgment, "James is not right.": Some of our judgments are necessary: "seven times four is twenty-eight," or "any being has a sufficient reason for its existence." These propositions are overpowering in their evidence; the intellect must accept them. It cannot do otherwise, for there is no theoretical or practical difficulty in the propositions that could distract the intellect's attention and so render the assent unnecessary. ~ "But--and this is important for religious obedience--most of our judgments are not necessary. Even more, many of our certain judgments are free even though perfectly certain and established by irreproachable evidence. Although the judgment, "God exists," is certain, and metaphysically certain at that, it is a free judgment, for it is not coercively obvious. A man can choose to be unreason-able, to look rather at difficulties practical and speculative, and thus choose to reject a truth that is amply demonstrated beyond any reasonable doubt. Because the intellect is not necessitated by the evidence in these many free certitudes, the will must enter into the picture and decide whether a~judgment is to be made, and, if so, what kind. The fact that the certitude of faith (another example of a free assent) is free is one reason that it is meritorious of eternal reward. And so the will has a decidedly large part to play in our intellectual life--far more than most of us would like to admit. If I am a Democrat (or a Republican), I am such not because 7O March, 1960 INTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE of clear, cold reason alone. The positions taken by the two parties are by no means obviously right or wrong, at least when considered as two sys~ms. If I am a Democrat, there are intellectual reasons, of course. But there are also a host of factors that have influenced my will quite aside from my desire for efficient government: parental persuasions, educational exposures, attitudes of friends, personality traits of political figures, my home city and state, income bracket (if I had one!), social position, religion. If you wonder whether rural life is superior to urban, whether married women ought to work outside the home, whether your religious superior is right or wrong in a given case, you may be quite sure that your will is going to have an important role in your final yes or no to each question. The will exercises this role in two ways, indirectly and directly. The will indirectly influences our intellect in its act of judgment by determining whether and for how long the intellect is to consider the various pieces of evidence pro and con. If a man refuses to study the evidence for the divine origin of the Catholic Church, his final judgment, "She is not Christ's Church," has been very much determined by his will, even though he might flatter himself that he has been quite intellectual in building up his case against her. If a religious refuses to examine carefully the favorable motives for his superior's decision, his judgment that the superior has erred is shot through with the volitional element. ¯ The will plays a direct role in the formation of a judgment, not because it elicits the very act of judgment (this is a cognitive act and therefore an operation of the intellect), but because it im-perates or commands the intellect to pass judgment, to link one idea with another. This direct role is found in both certain and opinionative assents. Although we have thus far considered chiefly the certain assent, what we have said bears even more pointedly on the opinionative. If certitudes can be free, it is obvious that opinionative assertions.' must also be free. If certain motives often do not determine the intellect, surely probable ones do not. And so because the opinionative judgment is not one forced by the evidence, the will must enter into the matter directly and command the intellect either to assent, not to assent, or to suspend assent altogether. Application to Religious Obedience From all that we have said it appears, then, that a definitive disagreement with one's religious superior is not usually a purely 71 THOMAS DUBAY Review for Religious intellectual affair. The reader will note that we specify a definitive disagreement, that is, not a mere difficulty in seeing the superior's position, but rather a mental assent, certain or opinionative, that the superior has erred. If we may return to a previous example, our point may be clarified. If Father X makes a judgment that his superior is wrong in directing a Lenten series on the capital sins, Father X's will has probably entered into his~ decision both in-directly and directly. On the first score, Father X's judgment has been influenced indirectly by his will, if he declined to look for and consider reasons supporting his superior's view. If, in addition, he chose only to adduce mental evidence to prove his own view, he chose so to act by his will, not his intellect. On the second score, Father's judgment has been directly influenced by his will, since the evidence is not compelling for either opinion, and in order for him to make an opinionative or a certain assent either way the will must intervene. It now becomes apparent that obedience of the judgment involves both the intellect and the will though in different ways. It is the intellect that is here conformed to the superior's, but it is the will that sees to the conforming operation. However much he might like to think so, the religious is not subject merely to ob-jective evidence in his intellectual reaction to his superior's com-mands. His final assent or dissent is 'very much determined by his desire to assent or dissent, and that desire will be shown probably by both an indirect and a direct influence on the part of his will. We may next inquire into the reasons why the will enters so pronouncedly into a realm that seems no great affair of its own. ¯ Why does the will step into the intellect's own proper sphere and influence its own proper act, the judgment? The underlying answer to this question may be deduced from what we have already said about the indetermination of the intellect in any of its judgments that lack dompelling evidence. In these cases it is the will that must decide finally whether an intellectual assent is going to be made and, if so, what kind: affirmative or negative, certain or opinionative. Without this volitional push the intellect would operate only when the evidence for its assent is overwhelming and bereft of any difficulty, practical or speculative. While the in-tellect's frequent indetermination is the underlying reason for the will's entry into the act of judgment, we may still ask why the will chooses an affirmative assent rather than a negative one (or vice versa) or a certain rather than an opinionative one (or vice versa). 72 March, 1960 INTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE Why, in other words, do we choose to hold what we do hold? Does our will always follow the objective state of the evidence? To answer this question is to answer also the problem of why we err when we do err. St. Thomas does not hesitate to place the root cause of error in the will, and he therefore finds at least a material sin (one without guilt) if not a formal sin (one with guilt) in our errors of judgment. "Error obviously has the character of sin," points out the Angelic. Doctor. "For it is not without pre-sumption that a person would pass judgment on things of which he is ignorant. Especially is this true in matters in which there is a danger of erring" (De rnalo, 3, 7). Why the sin? Because there is a deordination in the will's extending an assent beyond evidence, in judging without adequate information. We do not err because our senses and/or our intellects deceive us. l Being passive faculties they cannot register except what is given them, any more than a catcher's baseball glove can catch a golf ball if a baseball is thrown at it. If as I ride down the highway I see a peach tree and declare it to be a plum tree, I have erred not because my eyes deceived me (for they indicated precisely what is there), but because through an over-eager will my intellect was pushed to extend its assent, "Look at the plum tree," beyond the given data. An ordered judgment, one supportedby available evidence, would have been, "Look, I think that is a plum tree." In this judgment ~here is no error for it does appear to be a plum tree. In pinning down exactly why the will imperates unjustified assents epistemologists offer a wide variety of causes and occasions. These may be seen in any complete text on the validity of human knowledge. We will apply these same reasons and add some of our own to the subject's judging of a superior's command when the rightness or wrongness of it is not obvious. We may note that in the subject's disagreement with his superior there will often be an inordination of one kind or another. We qualify our statement by the word often because it can also happen with some frequency, and even in matters debatable, that a subject judges his superior wrong for objectively valid reasons. But even in this latter case perfect obedience will prompt the religious to seek to conform his thought to the superi0r's insofar as he can, and that by trying to see the superior's reasons rather than his own. What, then, are the inordinate causes for- a. subject's willed intellectual disagreement with his superior? ~Th~ senses can err, of course, when either they or the medium are defective. Of themselves, they are inerrant. 73 THOMAS DUSAY Review for Religious 1) ,Precipitate judgment due to levity or lack of maturity. Many people, ndt excepting religious, have a tendency to pass judgment on ideas or persons or events on the spur of the moment and without allowing themselves the leisure fo~ mature consideration. This undue haste could be willed insofar as an individual realizes his tendency to ill-considered conclusions and yet does not take adequate means to overcome it. A religious who is wont to have and express an immediate opinion regarding decisions of authority is probably beset with this defect. 2) Innate tendency to disagree. Closely allied with our first cause for a religious' intellectual disagreement with his superior is the odd perversity by which some men almost automatically choose the contradictory pqsition to an expressed proposition. This type of person, when a religious, will find himself sponta-neously thinking that the community should buy a Ford once the superior has decided upon a Chevrolet. 3) Desire to appear informed and/or as having a mind of one's own. To suspend judgment upon hearing a statement or to agree with it can in the first case appear to be due to ignorance of the situation or, in the second, to a lack of intellectual initiative and originality. Sister X may disagree with a ~uperior's directive re-garding classroom procedure primarily because she wants her community to realize that she, too, knows something about matters educational. Brother Y may be at odds with his superior about some extracurricular activity just to let it be known that he still has the use of a good set of reasoning apparatus. 4) An attachment to an idea or to a thing with which the superior' s directive is incompatable. Father X in our above example Gould have been willing his intellectual disagreement with his superior because of an unreasonable clinging to his own idea of what the people need most to hear about in a Lenten series. Although this clinging to an idea may be solidly motivated, it may also spring from an in-tellectual pride or from a self-centered attachment. If we refuse to examine honestly the evidence supporting the superior's view, we have cause for suspecting a self-centered attachment. 5) A preformed set of pseudo-principles. Not unrelated to simple prejudice is the phenomenon by which a religious builds his own cozy living of the religious life upon a set of principles hardly deducible from gospel asceticism. When his superior's directives clash with these "common sense" principles, the 'former are judged to be defective, not the latter. Fit forms of recreation, the amount of money available for a vacation, types and amount of work 74 March, 1960 INTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE assigned are all illustrations of the kind of material in which intellectual judgment is likely to be mixed with an abundance of will. 6) Dislike for the consequences of the superior's judgment. Even when no principle is immediately apparent, a religious can disagree with his superior's judgment because he can see that it is going to conflict with his own plans and purposes. A teaching sister who wishes secretly to run a particular extracurricular activity can easily be tempted to find intellectual fault with a command whose execution will disqualify her for the job she seeks. If she succumbs to the temptation, her judgment is probably rife with will. 7) Dislike for the person of the superior. If my memory does not fail me, Ovid once observed that love is a credulous sort of thing. And we might add that hatred is incredulous. The same man will strain to put a favorable interpretation on a wild remark of a true friend, while he will unabashedly reject a moderate statement of an enemy. A religious who feels a natural antipathy towards his superior is by that very fact predisposed .to disagree with his judgments on non-intellectual grounds. Because women admittedly tend to judge with their hearts to a greater extent than men do, sisters who note this incllnation in themselves should observe carefully its bearing on intellectual obedience. These, then, are some of the volitional factors that can be present in the religious' failure to conform his judgment to that of his superior. Lest we be misunderstood, we repeat that a lack of conformity of judgment can also be due to solid intellectual reasons held by the subordinate; and in this case he is not at fault, provided he has honestly tried to see the superior's point of vie.w. But we do insist that many of our disagreements can be influenced, perhaps strongly,, by any one .or several of the factors we have outlined. When such be true, our disagreement may not be flattered by the pure name of intellectual. Some Difficulties Does not intellectual obedience smack of the unreal, the dis-honest? Is not a mature man or woman being asked too much in being urged to surrender not only the will but the very intellect itself? Is the religious to enjoy no personal independence at all? These questions almost answer themselves in the asking. Intel-lectual obedience is honest and realistic for the simple reason that it requires only that a subject look frankly at evidence favoring 75 THOMAS DUBAY the superior's viewpoint. Since he already knows his own opinion, the subordinate violates no honesty in trying to see and accept that of God's representative insofar as such is possible. Nor does this ask too much, for every faculty 0f man belongs to God, his intellect included, and they all, therefore, should be surrendered to Him. As regards independence, we must note that no man is independent of God. A religious obeys with his understanding, not because the superior is more intelligent than he,. but because he commands with God's authority. There is an immense difference between the two motives. Would not the faithful practice of intellectual obedience cripple a religious' later ability to rule? Hardly. This difficulty is based on the tacit premise that the subbrdinate's viewpoint on a debatable command is the more correct because it is the subordi-nate's, that he will learn how to rule by attending to his reasonings rather than those of the superior. The contrary seems more ~ikely. A subject already knows how he would judge in a given situation ¯ and why he is inclined to disagree with his superior. It stands to reason, then, that he will be broadened, not narrowed, if he honestly tries to see this same situation from another man's vantage point. I Would expect obedience of judgment to improve a subject's later ability to govern wisely rather than hinder it. After all, who of us. is so brilliant that he has nothing to learn from another? And finally, does not the conforming of one's ju.dgment to that of another tend to smother magnanimit~ and zeal, bigness of mind and aqcbmplishment? I think I might be pressed if I had to give a convincing theoretical answer to this objection, but I find that an adequate concrete answer could scarcely be easier. We need only look at the lives of the saints and then ask whether their perfect obedience of intellect and will smothered their zeal and a~c0mplish-ment. We need only recall, for example, that towering figure of magnanimity, St. Francis Xavier, corresponding with his superior on his knees. The objection melts away. Intellectual obedience, then, is not only psychologically possible; it is logical, helpful, desirable. Without it obedience of execution and will can hardly be perfect. The subject who is at intellectual odds with his superior's directives is likely to murmur, to cut corners, to be lacking in promptness and cheerfulness. With intellectual obedience he is completely subordinated to God. He enjoys peace because his holocaust is entire. 76 Temptation." A÷R--S John Carroll Futrell, S.J. EVEN THE GREAT St. Paul complained that he found himself doing the evil he did not wish to do. Religious men and women, professionally dedicated to the pursuit of perfection, under-stand from their own humiliating experience what the Apostle was talking about. It is one thing to possess and pursue ideals of perfect virtue and high sanctity and quite another to realize them in the heat and rush of daily life. All of us suffer from plaintive moments when we see the embarrassing divide between what we are and what we are supposed to be. "What a rain of ashes falls on him / Who sees the new and cannot leave the old." More often than not it is only in profound moral crises that we find out what values truly shape our character. Men in general tend to live their lives without finding out who or what they really are. Most of the time we can successfully fool ourselves into believing that we are in our souls what we appear in our religious garb. Whether this be due to superb play-acting or to some inner veil we draw across the mirror that would show us ourselves, at least this much is clear: we fight like Tartars against the knowledge of what we really are, barring no holds and respecting no rules. It takes a crisis to reveal us to ourselves, and even then we can sometimes throw off uncomfortable truths by a kind of mental judo. The source of our troubles and the root of our self-deceit, we know, is the old Adam within us all. Man is split; his heart is divided. If, as the Psalmist and the poets have said, he is noble and splendid and but a little less than the angels, if he is of almost .infinite faculty in his mind and in apprehension like a god; still, he is also a mean-spirited reed and his own demon. He is capable of heroic grandeur shining out against the dark magnificence of things; but in the main he is rather ignoble, mean in his pleasures, slavish in his conformity to unworthy standards. We religious share this fallen nature (how well we know it!) and this divided heart. We run the constant risk that we shall live out our lives without really seeing our true face or speaking out our authentic name, who we are, why we are here. When the time comes to us, perhaps only at Judgment, when we will be forced at last to utter The Reverend John Carroll Futrell is presently stationed at the Institut Saint-Bellarmin, W~pion, Belgium. 77 JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL Review fo~ Religious the speech which haslain hidden at the center of our souls for years, we will be abashed and not a little astounded. It will be too late to deceive ourselves. If we have failed to realize our religious ideals, the reason is that we have in one way or another succumbed to temptation. Modern psychoanalysis has taught us that the best way to uncover the authentic self is to dig back under the layer of our surface personality and lay bare the subsoil from which it has emerged. Ultimately, one can do this only for himself. It is helpful, however, to consider how temptation works in general in order to be equipped to analyze its victories in ourselves. The purpose here is to consider how temptation works and why it overcomes us. In his brilliant discussion of the roots of sin St. Thomas Aquinas explains the division man discovers within himself. The philosophers have a dictum that action follows upon knowledge. How, then, can a man do the evil he does not wish to do, follow what is base, when he could write a perfectly accurate analysis of the ideal? How can he act against his own knowledge? St. Thomas gives the answer (Summa Theologiae, 1-2, 77, 2~. We have two kinds of knowledge: a general recognition of moral principles which is habitually possessed by our minds-- for instance, we know that all forms of sensuality are to be avoided- and a practical knowledge in the here and now situation that faces us which governs what we actually do-- we do not recognize that this sensual action here and now ought to be avoided. The process is obvious: we fail to consider here and now what we habitually recognize as true. What is the cause of this crucial failure to call upon our habitual knowledge when we most need it? Why is man divided? According to St. Thomas there are several possible explana-tions of this lack of consideration of moral principles. In a malici-ous man it may simply be the result of an evil intention; he does not want to pay attention to the demands of morality. More often, the source of the trouble is less direct. Some impediment gets in the way and blocks out the habitual knowledge which should step in to save us. This impediment might .be so simple a thing as a very demanding external occupation. We are so busy doing that we have no time for thinking. Or it might be the result of physical weakness. The mind is very much tied to the body. But for most of us most of the time the biggest impediment to moral .considera-tion is the force of our feelings. We are carried away from our ideals by the drive of self-propelled desire. The most insidious wile 78 March, 1960 TEMPTATION; A ~- R = S of feeling is to distract us from our habitual knowledge of what is meet and just by compelling our attention to its own attractive object. Or it may simply set itself openly against the ideal, inclining us away from it and toward the flowers of evil. Fina.lly, (St. Thomas is always thorough) feeling can actually bring about a bodily change in a person, pressing him on so violently that reason is chained and actions are no longer free. Passion can make a man insane. What we face in temptation, therefore, is a here and now compulsion to yield to an evil desire, a craving so intense that it tends to drive from consciousness our habitual intellectual knowledge of right and wrong, our higher ideals and hopes. Man is divided; and if temptation overcomes him he finds himself doing the evil he does not wish.to do. How exactly does this sway of feeling manage to upset moral consideration? What is the psychology of temptation? Perhaps we can express it as a formula: A÷R =S. A stands for appetite. Our problems begin when something catches our attention which shows itself to be highly desirable. It is not good for me, but I want it. Hold out a piece of candy to a little child, then draw it away, and the process will be clear. What feeds appetite? It is a complicated process. The initial cause may be memory of some pleasure experienced in the past, or imagination of some hitherto unknown desirable object. Or it may be that our senses are sur-prised by some unexpected stimulation. What I see or hear makes me want to gain possession. In any case, a circuit has been estab-lished. Like an electric current, desire runs back and forth from imagination to the senses, one strengthening the yearning of the other. What I want in imagination, I decide to look for or reach for, and sense action results. But the action of the senses causes imagination to paint in ever more glowing colors the object I desire, and this results in more definite sense activity. All the while feeling is being fed and is growing stronger. But it runs the risk of being crushed. Reason hastens to the rescue. R stands for rationalization. In a religious, especially, ideals, convictions, habits stand in the way of surrender to appetite. If feeling is to have its way, it must seduce reason into approving the here and now choice of an action which is completely at variance with the religious's habitual knowledge of right and wrong. This requires some ingenuity, playing off against one another various considerations of what ought to. be in general, and what ougl~t to be under these circumstances; when one should strive to be a 79 JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL Review ~or Religious saint, and when one should give a little to weak human nature; what is splendid as a hazy ideal, and what is practical at the present moment. Appetite slowly takes control of reason~ leads it away from consideration of good and evil, brings it around to the judgment that what appetite wants it should have. This step of rationalization is essential to the victory of temptation. It cannot win without it. Man will not act while he is divided; he comes to realize the division only after he has done the evil he did not wish to do. Two forces are at work in the rationalization process which favor the success of temptation. Obviously, the first is self-deceit. We manage to fool ourselves into thinking temporarily that we can be both good religious and self-indulgent at the same time. The more we give was to the onrush of appetite, the easier it becomes, to fabricate logical reasons for satisfying it. Our mood becomes one of great kindliness towards ourselves, paternal under-standing of our weaknesses, and gracious indulgence towards our felt needs. Finally, we convince ourselves that for the moment surrender is the better part of valor. The second force which bolsters up the campaign of ap-petite during rationalization is procrastination. When we manage to retain a toe-hold on reality and have a sneaking suspicion that we cannot sincerely strive to be perfect and holy religious while giving way to self, feeling strikes directly at this resistance. It allows us to admit that what we desire is honestly not the greater good, is truly not consistent withototal consecration to God. Yet, here and now it is needed. No one becomes holy in a day. Even though we surrender to appetite on this occasion, well, we will be striving for perfection all our lives. The particular kind of mortification involved in resisting this temptation can come at a later date. Put it off for the time being. Reason has. the satisfaction of feeling self-righteously honest at the same time that it approves the drive of appetite. Temptation wins again. A variation on the usual campaign of procrastination may be termed the datur tertium feint. If reason p~rsists in protesting that the object of appetite just cannot be squared with religious dedication, then the object is shifted somewhat to make it appear more acceptable. This type of rationalization is most effective when the temptation is not to do something difficult .which the pursuit of perfection clearly demands. Appetite is revolted be-. cause the prospect is painful. Therefore, some less unpleasant act of virtue is proposed. One need not experience the shame of out-right refusal to a call to greater holiness, but neither need he be 8O March, 1960 TEMPTATION: A ÷ R = S quite so extravagant as seems indicated by the movements of grace. Datur tertium -- something else can be done which will serve as a sop to conscience and yet not unduly inconvenience the precious self. Later on, perhaps, it will be possible to ascend to the heights along the highroad of the saints --but not quite yet. Once again, .temptation has its way. S stands for surrender. The circuit is now completed. Appetite, fed by imagination and sense activity, entered into the mind and met all the counterattacks of reason. Having rationalized suc-cessfully, the tempted religious is now able to make the judgment that what is wanted here and now is good, or at least allowable, even though it runs counter to his habitual knowledge of what is right and wrong for one who is pursuing perfection. The choice is made. Temptation has won the battle and in its victory is transformed into sin, or at least into religious failure: A÷R=S. This, it would seem, is a fairly accurate description of the general psychology of temptation. How this general campaign is waged in each individual soul only the individual can say. But given that. this is the way temptation works, what would be the best general strategy of defense against it? The best beginning in a defensive war is to recognize the tactics of the enemy. These we have expressed in a formula -- A +R = S. Now,.a clever general tries to counter the very first hostile move. We must above all, therefore, attempt to overcome appetite before it can advance to the stage of rationalization. Here, one must cultivate awareness of the movements of imagination and the susceptibility of the senses. Since memory and imagination incite sense activity and sense activity feeds imagination, one must be ready at any time to shift his attention from the object, which incites appetite. If the feeling of desire has entered through the imagination, catch the feeling and overcome it before sense action results. If surprised by the senses into awareness of the desirable object, quickly occupy the senses with something else. In either case, the trick is to focus the attention away from what is tempting, and to do it immediately. The very practical and psychologically valid principles underlying the exercise of interior mortification and rules of religious decorum are immediately evident. These are simply helps to cope with our divided hearts. They are the guard over our outer gates. Further, one sees the wisdom of the practice of recollection and the habit of frequent interior aspirations. These. are positive ways of keeping our attentionwhere it belongs-~on God; and they provide a quick and easy way of shifting our atten- JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL tion away from temptation when it surprises us. The practice of corporal mortification, .too, is seen for the healthy thing it is: a means of training our senses to embrace what is painful when the call of grace summons us to higher holiness. Our conscious life is a vital rhythm which the soul itself cannot regulate. It needs power-ful allies on the level ,of sense and imagination. Rationalization is harder to cope with because it means that the enemy is already within the gates. Temptation has advanced beyond the stage of mere appetite. However, some defenses are still available. One can consciously cultivate the disposition for c.omplete honesty with one's self and with God. Then, when rationalization begins, it will be difficult not to recognize self-deceit. No one can give himself heart and soul to one thing while in the back of his mind he cherishes a yearning, a secret hope, for some-thing very different. If we are constantly striving to realize total consecration to God, temptation will conquer us less and less often. The cultivation of this desire demands unswerving fidelity to the practice of spiritual exercises, expecially examination of conscience and contemplation of the meaning of God. Adam failed in con-templation, and ever since the heart of man has been divided. A very practical means to expose temptation for what it really is is suggested by Eric Gill in his Autobiography. When the appetite draws us toward something which seems desirable and promises joy, he advises us to reflect on the true nature of enjoyment. "The only real enjoyment of life is in the memory. However enjoyable this or that activity may have been or have seemed to be at the time of action -- the ecstasy of sensation, the ecstasy of touch and taste and smell, of sight and sound-- unless the memory of it be good' we must, for our own peace, eschew such action" (New York: Devin-Adair, 1942, pp. 221-22). Finally, when we have done the evil we did not wish to do, when temptation has .conquered and we have surrendered, we must hold on with all our faculties to our faith in the mercy and for-giveness of God and our trust in Him at last to deliver us from the body of this death and to lead us home. If fall we must along the way, we know that if we have confidence in Him, He will bring us to victory and holiness in His own good time. Juliana of Norwich expressed it perfectly: "He said not Thou shalt not be tempested, Thou shalt not be travailed, Thou shalt not be distressed; but He said Thou shalt not.be overcome." 82 Charity the Unifying Principle of Religious Life Sister Consuela Marie, $.B.$. SOMETIMES in religious life the minutiae of observance, the multiplicity of regulations and injunctions, the unremitting insistence on the perfec~ observance of the rule may cause us to lose sight of the fundamental obligation of all spiritual living-- the observance of the first and greatest commandment: the love of God and its included second, the love of self and neighbor. Charity in its *unadulterated essence is the root obligation of all moral law; it is of the essence of the morality of religious observance. In this atomic age, religious find themselves caught in the activity whirls of modern living. All the gadgets and electronic time-savers available today somehow do not bring them extra time ¯ or leisure. Whether the religious exercises his activity in a class-room, a hospital, or the homes of the poor, he goes intensely from one activity to another only to find that all he hoped to do in a single day cannot be fitted into the twenty-four hours that bound it. Fortunately for him, there is a definite pattern of prayer around which he builds each day and a definite horarium for'the specific duties of the day that would seem to make for one calm, peaceful whole. But in this statistical age of records and super records, of state requirements and association reports, of development pro: grams, of theatrical productions and .seminars, he finds himself swamped at times as he tries to keep his head above a tide that carries him along whether he will or not. Stress is in the very air we breathe in America today. While the nation works feverishly for bigger and better missiles, we look for more and more mechanical teaching aids, larger and better equipped buildings, new modern motherhouses and participated TV pro-grams. And all of this is good. The far-seeing religious, heeding the many suggestions of His Holiness, Pope Pius XII, realizes that all modern developments, if properly used, are effective instruments for promoting the glory of God. He would be foolish to pass them by and keep to a horse while the rest of the world whirls by in convertibles. Sister Consuela Marie teaches theology and history at Xavier University, New Orleans 25, Louisiana. 83 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE Review for Religious But not for these did the young person enter religious life. Fundamentally, he entered religious life to find God, to live with Him, to carve out, with His grace, a way of life that would bring him into close contact with this God of love for whom his whole being cries out. How often the very force of circumstance will compel him to realize that God is not in the whirlwind; He is not ordinarily found in the blare of feverish activity. There must come to him those moments when he feels there is a roadblock between his activity and his God; .and he dreams of the green fields of the enclosed contemplative and feels himself in an outside barren waste where God seems to have crossed the horizon and left him watching the sun go down not on the glory of Galway Bay, but on ¯ the dried-up barrenness of an overworked field. At this point, however, help is nearer than he knows. He has only to cry out to God to experience new floods of grace poured out on him. Divine selection and abundant grace have set the religious apart for a special kind of efficiency in a special way of living. No human mind devised the religious state. Infinite Wisdom ordained and designed it. The Holy Spirit, breathing forever where He wills, inspired the minds of saints to organize its multiform varieties in the world today. No human need has been overlooked in the long list of religious institutes or the long category of their functions. Primarily, the religious state, whether active or contemplative, is a state of perfection in which one is surrounded by means of at-raining perfection by the observance, in addition to the command-ments, of the religious counsels. Because it implies a special way of approach to God, a special way of directing one's actions to one's last end, which is the eternal possession of God, "it implies a whole ensemble of moral obligations of unequal importance.''1 There is the fundamental obligation to strive for perfection; and this is the soul's direct answer to the challenge: "If thou wilt be perfect . " There is the essential obligation of the vows and their ramifications in the particular institute; there are the secondary obligations of the specific apostolate. Finally, there is the obligation of each professed "of impregnating his soul and his life with the particular spirit of his institute and assimilating its characterigtic virtues.''~ Each of these obligations is assumed under the protecting arms of Holy Mother the Church. It is the Church which puts the seal of approval on the specific rules of the various orders and gives its as- ~L. Colin, C.SS.R., Striving for Perfection (Westminster: Newman, 1956), p. ix. ~Ibid., p. x. 84 March, 1960 CHARITY THE UNIFYING PRINCIPLE surance that sanctity can be attained by the observance of these rules. The apostolates of the institutes become by this approval the apostolates of the Church itself. Underneath the multiplicity of orders and congregations, there is the unity of all religious living in the complete consecration of individual lives to the pursuit of perfection. In the spiritual order is thus achieved that unity in multiplicity so characteristic of all being, so particularly characteristic of the Church to which Christ gave the mark of unity. What striking illustrations of this unity of the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church: membership for every race, every clime, every age; sanctity on every level, married saints, doctor saints, children saints, royal saints, peasant saints, laborer saints, active apostolic saints, silent suffering saints. In his lucid expression, St. Thomas states it thus: "Even in the order, of natural things, perfection, which in God is simple, is not found in the created universe except in multiform and manifold manner; so too, the fullness .of grace, which is centered in Christ as Head, flows forth to His members in various ways for the perfecting of the body of the Church. This is the meaning of the Apostle's words: 'He gave some as apostles and some as prophets, and other some as evan-gelists, and other some as pastors and doctors for the perfecting of the saints.' "~ As in the Church, so too in each single order or congregation there is a leit motif, an underlying unity that binds all duties, all moral obligations in one. How necessary it is that one establish the rock bottom foundation principle of unity for the multiplicity of obligations in religious life: the vows that bind for life, the virtues to be acquired, the particular duties assigned, the diverse activities to be assumed. One element, one principle binds them all together. That element, that unifying force is charity. Once that is clearly grasped, accepted, and allowed to function unhampered, the inner well of peace is safely dug, the heart finds the refreshing inner spring; the storms, the hurricanes crash and lash; but they beat without impress; and the soul walks and talks with God in the quiet of the evening in a garden enclosed. And this is not mere poetry. It is basic theology. It was clearly taught with unerring simplicity by the eternal Word who, in answer to the Pharisee's question as to what was the greatest command-ment, answered: "Thoushalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And the second is like ~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 183, 2; Eph 4:11. 85 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE Review for Religious it. Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" (Mt 22: 37-39). Scripture repeats that declaration, again and again. Nothing sur-passes St. Paul's description of charity. The nature, import, vitality of charity have never been so deftly defined and so superbly summarized as in his classic encomium. The Corinthians were evidently interested in the startling and visible charisms granted freely to the new-born Church. But St. Paul urges them to strive for the greater gifts and points out to them a "yet more excellent way." All the charisms, tongues of men and angels, gifts of proph-ecy, knowledge of all mysteries, and strength to move all mountains ¯ . all are as nothing without charity. Three groups of dominant ideas in St. Paul's treatment of charity are pointed out by Father Fernand Prat.4 St. Paul, he tells us, establishes it first as the queen of virtues since all other gifts are as nothing unless they are ruled by charity. Secondly, he makes it the summary of the commandments: "Love is the fulfilling of the law" (Rom 14:10). Finally, he establishes it as the bond of perfec-tion. Fifteen different virtues are listed by St. Paul as the compan-ions of charity in his exhortation to the Corinthians (1 Cor 13). In his Epistle to the Colossians, he urges the practice of mercy, humility, kindness, meekness, patience (Col 3: 12-13), all of which are included in the list of companions of charity. But whereas in the first listing St. Paul breaks charity up into its component. virtues, in this second listing he holds them securely together by, making charity their bond. "But above all these things have charity which is the bond of perfection" (Col 3:14). At the outset of religious life, when the young person is being orientated into a new type of living, when new obligations and moral responsibilities are being explained, might it not be well to posit a course (new or review as the previous education of the aspirant would determine) on the theological virtues with strong emphasis on charity? With this theological knowledge, the balance of other moral obligations can be definitely determined. At the beginning the .air is cleared, the moral emphasis properly placed and perfectly poised. With St. Thomas for his teacher, the. young religious will know that "primarily and essentially the perfection of the Christian life consists in charity, principally as to the love of God, secondarily as to the love of our neighbor, both of which are the matter of the chief commandments of the Divine Law.''~ In discussing the question whether perfection consists in the observ- ~The Theology of St. Paul (Westminster: Newman, 1927), 2, 333. ~Sumrna Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 3. 86 March, 1960 CHARITY THE UNIFYING PRINCIPLE ance of the commandments or of the counsels,-St. Thomas makes very clear this distinction between primary, essential perfection and secondary, accidental perfection. After stating the primacy of charity, he goes on to explain: "Secondarily and instrumentally, perfection consists in the observance of the counsels, all of which like the commandments are directed to charity; yet not in the same way."" The commandments, he explains, direct us in clearing away those things opposed to charity; while the counsels direct us to remove things not contrary to charity themselves, but which could hinder it. He quotes the Abbot Moses: "Fastings, watches, med-itating on the Scriptures, penury and loss of all one's wealth, these are not perfection, but means to perfection, since not in them does the school of perfection find its end, but through them it achieves its end." Here we have obligations in their proper focus; we have the obligations of religious life in their exact and proper proportion. The obligation of charity-is primary and without measure or limit. Its boundaries are all the energy of heart, mind, and will. Faith and hope, it is true, as theological virtues, have God° as their end. But in faith, it is the knowledge of God on the authority of His revela-tion; in hope, it is confidence in God to be possessed in future beatitude. In charity however, the end is the immediate possession of God here and now, the possession of infinite Love whereby God infuses His love into the soul, and the soul loves God with I-Iis own love. "It amounts to this, that endowed with the actual love with which the Father loves the Son, and the Son loves the Church ('I am in the Father and you in "me, and I in you . He that loveth me shall be loved of my Father, and I will love him') we find within ourselves the strength to keep the commandments, to live the life of faith, and -- most blessed of all -- to love back.''7 Charity, we must remember, is infused; we cannot create it; we cannot increase or decrease it though we can posit the actions, we can set the conditions under which, or on a~ccount of which, God will pour deeper infusions. On the other hand, we can, by our neglect of grace, dry up the streams and eventually, by our own free act, lose this infused gift by mortal sin. Charity and grace go hand in hand. They grow together; they increase together. When we lose one, we lose the other. They are distinct but inseparable. Since on the authority of God, the testimony of Scripture and 6Ibid. 7Dom Hubert VanZeller, The Inner Search (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1956), p. 165. 87 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE Review for Religious the writings of the Fathers and the explanations of the Summa, charity is the first moral obligation of all Christian living, a clear concept of its theological implications serves not only as rock base for the spiritual structure; but, far and beyond the foundation, it provides the beginning and the end, the end and the means, the joy and the crown, the reduction to simplicity and unity of the many facets of religious observance and obligations. Once this foundation virtue of charity takes its proper place, all other virtues take their form from it; all other virtues are only so many ways of loving God. No one of them has any meritorious value before God unless.it is informed by charity. What a delight religious life should be if this is our first duty, this the prime obligation of our whole existence -- to love God and our neighbor as ourselves in Him. And all this because God has.first loved us. Before the uni-verse was created, God is love. He created the universe and man in an act of love. When man turned aside from His love in sin, God the Father decreed the redemption by His only-begotten Son; and the Holy Ghost, in an act of love, overshadowed the im-maculate Virgin and with her consent effected the Incarnation. "The free deliberate self-oblation of Jesus on earth is the realization in time of the eternal decree of redemption in Heaven which springs from the inmost sources of Love." 8 We were created in love; we are destined to be entirely pos-sessed by love. We have only to clear the way, to remove the obstacles, to take down the barriers of pride and self love to let the waters of the boundless oceans of love inundate our whole lives. Once the barriers are down and love's passage through us is free, all other virtues follow. Because we love, we find the practice of the other virtues an almost impelling necessity. "I have found my vocation," once exclaimed the Little Flower; "in the Church, I will be love!" Each religious should make the same discovery; and the sooner, the better. To each one is the quotation from Jeremias applicable: "I have loved thee with an everlasting love!" (31:3). What peace, quiet, refreshment in that thought. Ever-lastingly He has loved me; He has brought me into existence primarily to fill me with love, for His glory! Intellectually we should understand the nature of this charity and how it should function in our lives. We cannot build castles in the air or dream of the darts of love or the raging fires we see sur-rounding the pictures of the saints. We must seek the essence, SKarl Adam, Christ the Son of God (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1934), p. 266. 88 March, 1960 CHARITY THE UNIFYING PRINCIPLE not the extraordinary manifestations of it. There are three divisions in this precept of charity: the love of God~ the love of self, the love of neighbor. The human mind staggers when it attempts to analyze the love of God in itself. On God's side, charity is active and creative. According to Sty. Thomas, "It infuses and creates the goodness which is present in things."'~ We love something because we find in it qualities or characteristics that appeal to us. God loves His own reflection in objects pleasing to Him. God is love, so that in Him love is a bottomless spring diffusing itself endlessly to the works of His creation, making them beautiful because of His love poured freely into them. "Our God is a consuming fire" (Heb 12:29). The flames of that fire are eternal and boundless. They transform to white heat whatever they touch. The inner life of the Blessed Trinity is one of complete giving, coraplete giving in love in the eternal generation of the Son by the Father, and the eternal spiration of the Holy Ghost by the mutual love of the Father and the Son. The Incarnation of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity is the most stupendous demonstration of God's love for man. The Redemption, the establishment of the Church, the order of grace and the sacraments, are all gifts demonstrating a love on God's part so perfect, we can never begin to comprehend it. On our part, charity is a supernaturally infused habit of our souls, a virtue by which we love God as the sovereign good above all else and our neighbor as ourselves in His love. This love for God which is our prime duty must have definite characteristics. It must be a love that is summus, that is, a love of God above all else. This characteristic which ~he theologians label summus has two di-visions: appretiative and intensive. Amor appretiative summus loves God as the sovereign good. "It is a postulate of charity that we must love God as the.infinitely lovable Being above all else, that is more than any other person.''~" Amor intensive summus adds the additional note of loving God ardently. "It is the highest kind of emotional love of which a man is capable.''~ This ardor, however, is not essential. ~t is a gift of God not given to all. True, there have been saints who have experienced sensible darts of love or ardent affections; but there have been many, too, who experienced years of dryness and dereliction. Yet these also loved God with an amor appretiative summus. ~Summa Theologiae, 1, 20, 3. ~°Koch-Preuss, Handbook o[ Moral Theology (St. Louis: Herder, 1928), 4, 78. ~Ibid., p. 79. 89 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE Review for Religious The second characteristic of the love we should bear God is that it be effective. That means it must show itself in good works. Love that merely exclaims, "My God, I love you!" but does not show itself in good works, is ineffective love. Mere affective love is transitory and incomplete unless it ends in effective love. If we really love God, we give proof of the love by the practice of the virtues and. by positive effort to extend the Kingdom of God on earth. The love of. God is the first and greatest commandment, and the second is the love of neighbor as self. Not often is a religious instructed in the love of self, though since God established love of self as the measure of the love of neighbor, there is a perfectly proper love of self. Pope Pius XII has made this very clear. "There exists," he said in his address to psychotherapists (April 13, 1953), "in fact a defense, an esteem, a love, and a service of one's personal self which is not only justified but demanded by psychology and morality. Nature makes this plain, and it is also a lesson of the Christian faith. Our Lord taught 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' Christ then, proposes as the rule of love of neighbor, charity towards oneself,, not the contrary." This love of self includes the proper love of our spiritual wel-fare before which we can put nothing else, and also in certain circumstances, a concern for our necessary physical welfare. St. Thomas says this explicitly: "When we are commanded to love our neighbor as ourselves, the love of self is set before the love of neighbor.""-' He hastens to add that we should love our neighbor more than our body. A proper uriderstanding of the nature of this love of self is essential. Before all else, we must love our soul's salvation. Before that we can put nothing. We can, however, and should put our neighbor's spiritual welfare before our physical convenience. It is worth noting, too, that God expects a reasonable care and concern for the physical nature He has given us. It has been said that some nuns push themselves too far. That can happen to a religious as well as to a hard-pressed mother or father. But here, a charity for oneself, for the physical health given by God, could help. All religious are well instructed on the third phase of the commandment of charity -- the love of neighbor. Love for others in religious life flowers into the manifold apostolates of the Church at home and abroad. So many dedicated apostles in so many dedicated apostolates, all loving God for Himself, and their neigh-r~ Surnma Theologiae, 2-2, 44, 8, ad 2. 9O March, 1960 CHARITY THE UNIFYING PRINCIPLE bors in. His love, ready to give them all they have, loving them truly as they love themselves! Now and then, however, it is well to recall that the first claimants to this charity toward the neighbor are the members of our respective communities. St. Thomas says so pointedly, "We ought to love most those of our neighbors who are more virtuous or more closely united with us.''1'~ We should wish them well, do good to them before outsiders. Helping them is part of our first moral obligation. Understanding the primacy of place, the primacy of obl.igation, and the formative influence of charity on all other virtues, the in-tellectual concept is clear. Intellectual concepts will help but they will not produce charity. God infuses it. Progress in charity is the lifelong concern of the religious. He is in the way of perfection. Can he attain to perfect charity? Discussing whether one can be perfect in this life,14 St. Thomas explains that absolute perfection is possible only to God, and that absolute totality on the part of the lover so that his affective faculty always tends to God as much as it possibly can, is not possible to human nature this side of heaven. But, he adds, there is a third perfection on the part of the lover with regard ¯ to the removal of obstacles to the movement of love towards God. This perfection, he assures us, can be had in this life in two ways: first, by removing from man's affection all that is contrary to charity, such as mortal sin (this degree is essential for salvation); secondly, by removing from man's affections not only what is contrary to charity but also what hinders the mind's affection from tending wholly to God. In this second area, there are ever-widening possibilities. In avoiding mortal sin, and as far as human frailty will permit, venial sin, there is an ever-deepening union of mind and soul with God. Affective love becomes effective in works of super-erogation assumed for the sake of love. At this point, all the theo-logical virtues, the cardinal virtues and their subsidiary virtues, are so many streams through which the current of charity flows far and wide. The stronger the charity, the stronger these other virtues which receive their merit from charity. This perfection is possible here and now --: that all that is done, is done for love of God at least through a virtual intention even though an actual intention does not precede every ac.t. The aim at this love should be direct and constant. The most important act a religious makes is an act of charity, and it is in his power to renew it actually and briefly countless ~3Ibid. l~Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 2. 91 SISTER CONSUELA MARIE times during the day. Fulfilling all the obligations of his state for the pure love of God, he can still renew frequent acts of charity. "With frequently renewed acts of charity, the soul is capable of doing as much as it can in this life to make the meritorious influence of charity constant and complete.''~'~ Charity is the precious ointment, the sheer essence of all religious living, of all spiritual striving. It is the most precious element in the Church. St. John of the Cross states its position with startling simplicity: "More precious in the sight of God and the soul is a small portion of this pure love, more profitable to the Church, even though it seems to be accomplishing nothing, than are all other good works combined.''~'~ When life is over, faith will end, for we will see; hope will vanish, for the goal will be reached. Charity alone will endure. Before it is our eternal joy, it will be our judgment. St. John of the Cross tells us that in the evening "of life, we will be judged by love. How important that the morning, the high noon, and the late afternoon of life be directed to the perfection of charity! ~SDominic Hughes, "The Dynamics of Christian Perfection," The Thomist, 15 (1952), 268. ~The Works of St. John of the Cross (Westminster: Newman, 1949), 2, 346. 92 Neuroticism and Perfection Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. THE FIRST OBLIGATION of every religious is to seek perfec-tion.~ Generally speaking, the success of a religious as a religious will be measured by the extent to which he or she actually achieves this goal. Since perfec.tion and sanctit~ are synofiomous, every religious is also called to sanctity. This demand presents a special problem for the seriously neurotic religious, since the very nature of his disorder seems to militate against his achieving any degree of perfection or sanctity, and sometimes it even seems to eliminate the possibility of his striving to achieve a relative state of perfection. The question, therefore, arises: Can the neurotic religioug ever hope to attain perfection or sanctity? Or are the debilitating symptoms of almost all seriously neurotic conditi'~ns such as to exclude the possibility of sanctity? Obligation and Nature of Perfection St. Thbmas describes the type of l~erfection whibh is the primary obligation of all religious as "charity, first and foremost in the love of God, and then in the love of'neighb0r.'"-' The 'religiqus is especially called to love God with his whole heart and his neighbor as himself.:' Although few, if any, actually achieve this $odl, many have succeeded to an extraordinary degree. They have devoted the greater part of their lives to loving.God and neighbor. As a resul~, they now live among the saints of heaven. If one stops to analyze the lives of these eminently successful people, it becomes evident that this charity of which Scripture and the theologians speak presupposes many other virtues and counsels. First of all, one cannot fully love .God and his neighbor when the majo~ actions of his life are motivated by self-love. The person who is absorbed in himself finds it extremely difficult to turn his will outward toward God and neighbor. Even those who have achieved a relative state of sanctity on this earth, quickly dis- The Reverend Richard P. Vaugl~an teaches at the University of San Francisco, San Francisco 17, California. 'Code of Canon Law, canon 593. "-'~urnma Theologiae, 2-2, 184, 3. ¯ :~Adolphe Tanquerey, The Spiritual Life (Tournai: Descl6e, 1930), pp. 183-84. 93 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious covered that they must wage a constant battle against self, lest they find Selfish motives tainting that charity which perfection demands. Moreover, the enticements of pleasure turn the religious away from divine love. The man or woman who lives for the pleasures of the world cannot live for God. It is only by curbing the desire for. pleasure through the medium of numerous virtues that a religious will be able to center his full attention upon God. Fu.rther helps are the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. These three vows, shut out worldly interests which distract from the full development of charity. Hence, included in the notion of charity, which is the source of all perfection, is self-sacrifice, the practice of virtues, and fidelity to the three vows. Knowledge of God and Neurosis A thing must be seen as good before it can be loved. The more apparent the goodness, the greater is the possibility of a deep love. Thus, before we can love a person, we must know him. These are philosophical principles which affect our dealings with God as well as with others. In the natural order, all of us have probably ex-perienced at one time or another an initial dislike for a person, only to have this dislike after a number of months or years turn to a positive like or even to love. If we stop to analyze what has hap-pened, it becomes apparent that a new and deeper knowledge of the person makes us see him in an entirely different light. We begin to see him as he actually is and not as we have imagined him to be. When all his good qualities become apparent, we cannot help but" like him. The neurotic frequently ftnds himself in a similar situation in his relationship v~ith God. Due to his disorder and early experiences, he may harbor some v.ery hostile and angry feelings toward God. He is apt to think that God has unjustly persecuted him. He is apt to be resentful. Since all such thoughts and emotions provoke a great amount of guilt, many neurotics repress them. Unfortunately, repressed matter seldom stays fully repressed, but manifests itself in many subtle ways. For example, .a religious who is unconsciously very angry with God might ex-perience almost a compulsion to commit some type of a serious sin, and still never realize that one of the reasons for his actions is a .desire to get even with God. Once the neurotic religious through the medium of psychotherapy begins to realize why he feels as he does toward God, then he can begin to know God as others know Him. 94 March, 1960 NEUROTICISM AND PERFECTION None of us knows God directly. Our knowledge comes from experience. Some of this knowledge is the result of a long reasoning process. However, our initial knowledge of what God is like most probably springs from the attitudes and example of our parents. It is the mother or father who plants the germ of knowledge in the mind of the child. Since small children usually look upon their parents as gods, it should not be startling to. discover that our concept Of what God is like comes in part from experience with our own fathers. If, for instance, early childhood experiences with a father or father-substitute are unfavorable, as so often happens among neurotics, then one's notion of God the Father is not likely to be true to reality. The individual who has had a father who was a stern disciplinarian and unable to express any warmth toward his children is liable to look upon God as the God of ruthless justice, and not the God of love and mercy. This concept.bf God is the product of experience, and in all probability the individual does not realize that it differs from that of anyone else. This is but one example of how the neurotic mind might develop a warped concept . of God. There are numerous others, all of which profoundly affect the pursuit of sanctity. Since true love of God necessarily presupposes a true knowl-edge of God, the neurotic religious may often find himself with limited tools or even without any tools necessary for progress on the way to perfection. Any progress will first demand that the religious abandon his false notion of God. Generally speaking, such a change will require some type of psychological help. Almost all of us during the course of childhood and adolescence . de~velop some fal,se, or at least dubious ideas about God. It is only through meditation and study" that a religious comes to a true, although limited, knowledge of God. One of th~ characteristics of a neurotic' is self-centeredness. He has a tendenc~ to live inside ¯ him, .self. He frequently looks at the events of dail~ life only in so far as they affect his own personal problem.s. Often his morning meditations become mere ruminations over past hurts and failures; real of imagined. He finds it very difficult to consider things as they actually exist apart from his own disordered personality. Such an outlook does not foster that type of meditation which is likely to produce a .more realistic knowledge of God. As a consequence, the love of God which is demanded of those seeking perfection is either weak or completely ladking, since one cannot fully love God if he has an erroneous concept of Him. 95 ~ICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious Love of Neighbor The second obligation upon all those who are seeking perfec-tion is love of one's neighbor.4 This obligation poses a special prob-lem for the seriously neurotic religious, in so far as one of the major areas affected by a neurotic condition is that of relationship with others. A characteristic often found in a neurosis is an excessive striving for the manifestations of love and attention from others. This striving stems from early childhood frustrations which have been repressed. The neurotic will generally make use of some protective devices so that he is not forced to look at this anxiety-provoking part of his personality. Some handle the problem by creating a wall between themselves and others. They simply tell themselves that they do not need the rest of the community. Their lives are dedicated to God and their work. And so they withdraw deeper into themselves. Other religious make an initial but unsuccessful effort to satisfy their need for affection, but then turn against the very members of the community who have tried to help them. In general, they manifest a good deal of anger and hostility in their relationships with others. And finally, there are those religious who spend their lives seeking any small manifesta-tion of love and concern from the other members of the community or from the laity. They are very dependent. They are always leaning on someone else. Although they seldom show external resentment when others inevitably fair to satisfy their needs, still often they are seething inside with emotional turmoil. It is not only possible to love those whom we. dislike, but it is a commandment of God. "Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you" (Lk 6:27). Still, if one has an almost constant tendency to be hostile and resentful of others, the task of controlling these feelings becomes extremely, difficult. In the case of neurotic reli-gious, the major obstacles for the practice of charity are feelings of the opposite nature which sp~ing from unconscious sources. One can learn to change erroneous attitudes and feelings if he realizes that he has them and can analyze to some degree why he acts accordingly. But when a person is almost entirely unaware of both his uncharitable actions and the source of these actions, then the practice of charity often becomes an almost insurmountable barrier. Over- Sensitiveness Coupled with the above-mentioned problem is the over-sensitiveness which is a part of most neuroses. The neurotic religious ~Ibid., pp. 157-58. 96 March, 1960 NEUROTICISM AND PERFECTION is more easily offended by a slight or a cross word. He takes all the actions and words of others in a personal sense. Thus, he is more apt to be tempted with uncharitable or even revengeful thoughts. Since he is so self-centered, he will probably find it considerably more difficult to resist these temptations. The slight or cross word is. striking at the most vulnerable part of his personality, namely at his self-esteem; the natural reaction is to protect himself by attacking the offender. The second obligation imposed by perfection, namely charity toward others, therefore, proves much more trying for the neurotic religious than for the rest of the community. In the case of the severely neurotic religious who has little or no insight into his hostile behaviour, the effect of the disorder could reach that point where the virtue of charity would seem to be almost impossible. In such instances, the degree of responsibility for the uncharitable-ness must be taken into consideration. The lives of the saints teach us that any advancement on the way of perfection calls for self-sacrifice and self-renunciation,s The person who is almost entirely taken up with himself has little room in his heart for love of God and neighbor. As it has been stated, one of the major characteristics of neurotics is self-centered-ness. Depending upon the degree of severity, being self-centered will present some kind of an obstacle to sanctity. In the case of religious, some become so absorbed in their own interior conflicts and frustrations that they have little time left for God and the members of their community. They are so filled with self-pity that God has but one meaning for them, namely a source of consolation and solace. These souls are unable to give love to God just as they are unable to give love to their fellow religious or to their students. As a result, self-sacrifice and self-renunciation play little or no part in their lives. Pseudo-Virtues A ~urther handicap resulting from a neurotic condition is the development of pseudo-virtues. These are repeated actions which give the semblance of virtue but in reality are just the result of the disordered personality. For example, pseudo-virtues are sometimes found among those who have deep feelings of inferiority and un-worthiness, which for the most part are uncbnscious. Under the guise of humility, some neurotic religious are constantly defacing themselves before others. Unfortunately, they never stop to analyze ~Ibid., pp. 166-69. 97 RICHARD P. VAOGHAN Review for Religious that what they are actually seeking is a word of praise to offset some very distressing feelings of inferiority. The function of this so-called humility is self-centered and not God-centered. Commandments and Counsels Striving for perfection demands the following of the command-ments and, to a degree, the counsels. "If thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments . If thou wilt be perfect, go sell what thou hast and give to the poor and thou shalt have a treasure in heaven" (Mt~19:17-21). If a religious is making a true effort to seek perfectio~n, he will strive to keep himself, at the very least, free from serious sin and to observe the demands of his three vows. In addition to grace, this observance of the commandments and following of the vows requires the habit of self-control. Yet one of the first parts of personality to be affected by any kind of mental illness is self-control. Both neurotics and psychotics find that as their disorders become progressively worse, they become less and less able to control their thoughts, feelings, and actions. After an emotional outburst, many a neurotic religious has been shocked and humiliated by his unusual behavior. He will tell himself that he did not act this way before. When he tries to .analyze why he became so angry and lost his temper, he can find no proportionate reason. The reason, however, for his behavior can be attributed to a loss of self-control, resulting from the neurotic disorder. This loss of self-control affects much of the neurotic's behavior. It impairs his pursuit of virtue and fidelity to the vows. The striving for sanctity is further handicapped by continuous periods of depression and fatigue, which seem to mark the path of most neurotics. When a person is unhappy and tired, he becomes an easy prey to temptation. He has less resistance. Pleasure becomes more enticing, since in a moment of darkness any fleeting joy be-comes much more desirable. The start of many a neurotic's escape into sin has begun with a peri6d of depression and unhappiness. Each lapse, especially if the lapses involve sins of a sexual nature, destroys some progress made in the life of virtue. Since repeated sinful actions are apt to become habitual, they make future progress much more difficult. Can a Saint Be Neurotic? What has been said up to this point would seem to indicate that perfection or sanctity is out of the reach of the neurotic religious. The.re are, however, modern authors who maintain that 98 March, 1960 NEUROTICISM AND PERFECTION some of the saints were neurotic. For instance, one states that St. Therese of the Child Jesus suffered from an obsessive-compul-sive neurosis.6 Still, it should be noted that this author says St. Therese appeared to be neurotic at the age of twelve or thir-teen. He does not affirm that she was neurotic when she died. Moreover, he does not state that she was severely neurotic, but that she suffered from a serious case of scruples, which in many cases is considered a neurotic symptom. During the past few decades at' least, it is highly doubtful whether a person could have been severely neurotic and still be considered an apt candidate for canonization. In the Code of Canon Law, we find: "When the cause is that of a confessor (that is, of a servant of God who is not a martyr of the faith), the following question is.to be discussed: whether in the case under consideration there is evidence of the existence of the theological virtues of faith,, hope, and charity (both toward God and toward neighbor) and of the cardinal virtues of prudence, justice, forti-tude, and temperance, and of the subsidiary virtues in a heroic de-gree . ,,7 In view of our analysis of the seriously neurotic per-sonality, it is difficult to see how a religious could attain all the aforesaid virtues to a heroic degree, and thus be worthy of canoniza-tion. It might also be added that, where there is evidence of mental disturbance in a servant of God who is being considered for beati-fication and this disturbance in some way influences the exercise of that servant's freedom, the custom of the Congregation of Rites has been to dismiss or set aside the case. s Spiritual Fate of the Neurotic Religious What, then, is the spiritual fate of the priest, sister, or brother who is severely afflicted with some form of a neurosis? As long as he or she remains in this condition, there would seem to be little chance of attaining a high degree of perfection -- except through the help of a special miracle coming from the hand of God. This handicap, however, does not relieve the particular religious in question of the obligation to seek after perfection. He still has the same obligation as any other religious. He differs from other re-ligious only in so far as he must reconstruct the natural before he 6Josef Goldbrunner, Holiness Is Wholeness (New York: Pantheon, 1955),. p. 25. 7Code of Canon Law, canon 2104. 8Gabriele di Santa Maria Maddalena, "Present Norms of Holiness" in Conflict and Light, edited by Bruno de J~sus-Marie (London: Sheed and Ward, 1952), p. 168. 99 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious can build a solid supernatural life. Most religious have fairly well-balanced personalities when they enter the notiviate. They are, therefore, in a position to take full advantage of the spiritual benefits offered during these years of training. With the neurotic, such is unfortunately not the case. He is frequently so preoccupied with himself and his problems that much of the spiritual fruit offered during the formative years is lost. If a neurotic religious is to advance on the road to sanctity, he must first clear away the natural debris of conflicts, fears, and frustrations. Once this has been accomplished, he will then move ahead as rapidly, if not more rapidly, than the religious who has always had good psychological health. In most instances of severe neurosis, this can only be achieved through some form of psycho-therapy. Protective Devices At the heart of every neurotic condition, no matter how mild or severe, is the development of some kind of a protective device. For example, the individual who feels completely inadequate in his dealings with others may defend himself against having to face this side of his personality by putting on an air of bravado whenever he finds himself in a group of people. Usually the physical and psychological symptoms are merely protective device.s. During the course of our early lives, there is not one of us who does not develop some kind of a personality defect which we cannot bear to manifest, and so we repress it. The way we go about repressing it is to develop a protective device. For this reason, many psy-chiatrists and psychologists say that we are all neurotic to a degree, The difference between the severely neurotic person and the average person is quantitative. The seriously neurotic has many repressed personality defects, and he has built up a very elaborate system of defending himself. This system, however, either fails to give the needed protection, so that he has to face to some extent the repulsive part of himself, or the system itself is such as to prove ankiety-provoking. In the latter case, one could include the religious who uses the defense of compulsive prayer to solve an unconscious conflict. Soon the number of prayers reaches such a proportion as to make the fulfilling of his other obligations impossible~ Then, the religious is caught in a new conflict of obliga-tions which produces more psychological discomfort. The saints who, like St. Therese, gave some evidence of a neurosis built up protective devices or defenses; but they did not 100 March, 1960 NEUROTICISM AND PERFECTION construct those elaborate and complicated systems that char-acterize so many severe neurotics. Had they done so, they un-doubtedly would have also manifested such personality traits as over-sensitivity and self-centeredness. Many religious give evidence of minor neurotic symptoms, such as an unreasonable fear of high places or occasional attacks of scruples. These symptoms in themselves need not be handicaps to perfection. They may even become sources of spiritual progress. As soon as a religious, however, manifests not only these minor symptoms but also some of the neurotic personality traits, then the way to perfection and sanctity becomes progressively more difficult. Need of Psychotherapy The foregoing discussion should bring out the need of a solid natural foundation on which to build the religious life. The priest, brother, or sister who is plagued with numerous psychological problems has a poor foundation on'which to construct his or her spiritual life. In almost every instance, supernatural virtue de-mands natural virtue. This fact points to the importance of psy-chotherapy for the severely neurotic religious. For without psycho-therapy,- these religious will be unable to achieve or sometimes even to seek after the primary goal of the religious life. Sanctity and perfection are out of their reach. But once they have received and cooperated with some form of psychological help, they are in a position to use the grace God gives to every religious. It stands to reason that the sooner a religious has the opportunity to clear away debris of psychological conflicts, the sooner he can get to the prime purpose of his chosen life, namely his own perfection and sanctity. 101 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S.J. THE FOLLOWING article will survey the documents that appeared in .Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during the months of October and November, 1959. All references in the article will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Encyclical on the Rosary Under the date of September 26, 1959 (pp. 673-78), Pope John XXIII issued the encyclical Grata recordatio. The document is a brief one which begins by recalling the many Marian encyclicals of Leo " XIII. After emphasizing the desire he has for the devout recitation of the Rosary especially during the month of October, the Vicar of Christ then listed the matters for which he principally wished private and public prayers to be offered during the month of the Rosary. The "first intention was for the Holy See and for all ecclesiastical orders in the Church. The Pontiff's second intention was for all apostolic laborers that they may be granted the grace to speak the word of God with all confidence in its power. In the third place the Pope asked the faithful to remember in their prayers the leaders of the nations of the world. Catholics, he said, should petition God that these leaders may give the deepest consideration to the critical situation that the world faces today, that they may seek out the causes of discord, and that, realizing that war measures can lead only to destruction for all concerned, they may place no hope in such means. Let the leaders of the world, the Holy Father remarked, recall the eternal laws of God which are the foundation of good government; similarly they should remind themselves that just as men have been created by God, so also they are destined to possess and enjoy Him. The fourth and final intention for which John XXIII asked special prayers was the diocesan synod of Rome and the coming general council of the Church. Saints, Blessed, Servants of God Under the date of May 26, 1959, the Holy See issued two decretal letters (pp. 737-49, 750-64) concerning the canonization of St. Charles of Sezze (1613-1669) and St. Joaquina de Vedruna de Mas (1783-1854). Each of the letters begins with an account of the life of the saint, details the history of the cause for canonization, and finally gives the official account of the actual canonization. 102 ROMAN DOCUMENTS On August 11, 1958 (pp. 830-31), the Sacred Congregation of Rites formally confirmed the immemorial cult by which Herman Joseph, priest of the Premonstratensian Order, has been honored as a saint. The same congregation also issued a monitum (p. 720) in which it noted two mistakes in the text of the second nocturn for the feast of St. Lawrence of Brindisi. On April 22, 1959 (pp. 717-20), the same congrega-tion approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God Peter Joseph Savelberg (1827-1907), priest and founder of the Congregations of the Brothers and the Little Sisters of St. Joseph. On October 14, 1959 (pp. 818-20), the Pope addressed an allocution to a gro.up interested in the cause of Niels Steensen. The Pontiff praised Steensen for the remarkable scientific rigor with which he studied the works of God in order to better understand their structure and make-up; he also noted Steensen's pioneering work in anatomy, biology, geology, and crystallography. But it was Steensen's work after his conversion to the Church that the Pontiff principally emphasized. Once converted, he noted, the scholar gave up his chair of anatomy in the University of Copenhagen and began to study for the priesthood. After his ordina-tion and after his consecration as a bishop that soon followed, he began a life .of poverty, mortification, and suffering. He became especially noted for his zeal to lead non-Catholics back to the Church. His work in this area, the Pope remarked, was characterized by two notable qualities: his unalterable attachment to all points of revealed doctrine; and his great respec.t and love for those who did not share his own religious convictions. Miscellaneous Documents On November 4, 1959 (pp. 814-18), John XXIII delivered a homily in St. Peter's on the occasion of the first anniversary of his coronation as Pope. After recalling the feelings aroused in him by the first year of his pontificate, the Pope proceeded to outline a program of action based on the Our Father. His efforts, he said, will be directed to see that the name of God be blessed and acclaimed; that His spiritual kingdom may triumph in souls and in nations; that all human forces m~y be in conformity with the will of the heavenly Father. This last point, he insisted, is the essential one; from it will flow man's daily bread, the pardon of human offenses, the vigor of man's resistance to evil, and the preservation of men from all individual and social evils. On September 13, 1959 (pp. 709-14), the Holy Father broadcast a message for the conclusion of the National Eucharistic Congress of Italy. He told his listeners that the Eucharist is truly the mystery of faith, for it is the living compendium of all Catholic belief. In the Eucharist, he said, is found Christ, the only mediator between God and man; in it is found the lasting memorial of the sacrifice offered by Christ on Calvary; and in it is found the Head of the Mystical Body from whom come the sacraments which give fecundity and 103 1~. F. SMITH Review for Religious beauty to the Church. He concluded his broadcast by reminding his listeners that two thousand years of progress, in knowledge, in art, in culture, in economics, in politics, and in social matters have not diminished the truth of Christ's words: "Amen, amen, I~ say to you: if you do not eat the flesh of the son of man and do not drink his blood, you shall not have life in you" (Jn 6:54). A later radio broadcast on October 11, 1959 (pp. 777-78), was directed to the people of Argentina on the occasion of their Eucharistic Congress. He told the Argentines that if the human race would practice the lessons of love and unity which come from the Eucharist, then the miseries and discords of the world would cease to be. The Eucharist, he said, is the source of harn~ony and true peace for individuals, families, and peoples; for it restrains the passions, especially those of pride and egoism. On October 11, 1959 (pp. 766-69), the Vicar of Christ addressed a group of missionaries to whom he had just given their missionary crosses. He told the future missionaries that the peoples of the world await them, since they carry the secret of true peace and of tranquil progress. He ~lso reminded his listeners that the Church has received from her Founder the mandate to seek out all peoples so as to unite them into one family; accordingly no human force, no difficulty, no obstacle can stop the Church's missionary work which, will end only when God is all in all things. In his concluding words the Pontiff re-minded the missionaries that the cross they had just received should show them at what price the world is saved; the crucified Christ should be their model and their example; in their work, therefore, they should not put their trust and confidence in helps that are of purely human inspiration. On April 13, 1959 (pp. 691-92), the Holy Father issued an apos-tolic letter, raising to the status of an abbey the priory of the Sacred ¯ Heart in Ofiate. The new abbey belongs to members of the Canons Regular of the Lateran. On September 25, 1959 (pp. 706-9), John XXIII delivered an allocution to the Abbot Primate and other relS-resentatives of the Benedictine order. The Pontiff recalled with gratitude. the great debt of the Church to the Benedictine order and continued by reminding his listeners that the primary form of their apostolic work must be the chanting of the Divine Office. This, he said, is espec-ially necessary today, when so many men are intent on earthly matters to the negligence of celestial things. He also recalled the other works of the order and concluded by urging his listeners to keep faithfully to their traditions without hesitating, however, to use and accept new things that are proved to be good and useful. On October 19, 1959 (pp. 822-25), the Pontiff addressed an allocu-tion to the members, officials, and lawyers of the Rota. After giving a brief history of the Rota, the Pope told his listeners that they have been called by Providence to the defense of justice without regard to any other consideration including that of the authority or reputation of 104 March, 1960 I~OMAN DOCUMENTS those having recourse to the Rotao In this, he said, they must imitate the sovereign equity of the just and merciful God, before whom there is no acceptation of persons. In the latter part of the allocution the Vicar of Christ called the Rota the tribunal of the Christian family. By defending the sanctity and the indissolubility of matrimony, the Rota protects it from the attacks of a hedonistic egoism; at the same time, when it acknowledges the invalidity or non-existehce of a marriage bond, the Rota acts as the guardian of the sacred rights of the human person. On August 28, 1959 (pp. 701-2), the Pope sent a letter to Arch-bishop Martin John O'Connor, rector of the North American College in Rome, congratulating him on the hundredth anniversary of the college. Later on October 11, 1959 (pp. 770-75), the Pontiff gave an address to the students of the college, detailing to them the numerous ways in which the various Popes have manifested a special interest in the college. The growth of the college from its opening days with thirteen students to its large groups at the present time is, he continued, a sign of the growth of the Church in the United States. The Holy Father concluded the allocution by telling the students that the cause of Mother Elizabeth Seton had already passed the antepreparatory stage and that consequently there was good reason to hope that in a relatively short time the cause would be brought to completion. On October 13, 1959 (pp. 775-77), the Pope addressed present and former students of the Teutonic College of Sancta Maria de Anima on the occasion of the hundredth anniversary of Plus IX's reorganization of the college. He congratulated the college on its past achievements and urged it to greater things in the future. On September 6, 1959 (pp. 703-6), the Pontiff talked to a group of Italian elementary teachers, telling them to have a profound and jealous esteem for their mission of education. This esteem, he said, should be based on the .following considerations: Teachers train the minds of their charges, a consideration which, he added, should make them eager to perfect themselves constantly in their own culture. Moreover, teachers form the souls of their children; to teachers, then, is ent~'usted the forma-tion of the men of tomorrow. Finally, he concluded, teachers should encourage themselves by remembering that by their work they are preparing for themselves a special reward in heaven according to the words of Daniel 12:3, "But they that are learned shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that instruct many to justice, as stars for all eternity." On October 17, 1959 (pp. 821-22), the Vicar of Christ spoke to a group of persons interested in the human values to be found in labor. He congratulated the group for putting the things of the spirit before every other consideration and recommended to them the exercise of Christian virtue. He especially urged them to follow the maxim of St. Benedict, "Pray and work"; they should, he said, make prayer their 105 VIEWS,' NEWS, PREVIEWS Review [or Religious very breath and their food in the conviction that every human activity, no matter how lofty and praiseworthy, is not to be limited to an earthly horizon, but should tend towards the City of God. On October 1, 1959 (pp. 764-66), the Vicar of Christ spoke to a congress of the Apostolate of the Blind. The ~lind, he said, teach other men to value the light of intelligence and of virtue. He also reminded his listeners that the cry of the blind man of the gospel, "Lord, grant that I may see," arises today from multitudes of men who are spiritually blind; accordingly he urged his listeners to direct their prayers to the Blessed Virgin that the day will soon come when "all flesh will see the salvation of God." In a letter of October 12, 1959 (pp. 809-10), the Pope accepted the resignation of Cardinal Pizzardo from his position as secretary of the Holy Office. On November 20, 1959 (pp. 810-12), he accepted the resignation of Cardinal Tisserant as Secretary of the Sacred Oriental Congregation. On the same day (pp. 812-13) he accepted the resignation of Cardinal Cicognani as Pro-Prefect of the Supreme Tribunal of the Apostolic Segnatura. On October 9, 1959 (p. 829), the Sacred Consistorial Congregation named Francis Xavier Gillmore Stock the military vicar of Chile. An apostolic constitution of April 17, 1959 (pp. 789-91), established ¯ an exarchate in Germany for Ruthenians of the .Byzantine rite. The see of the exarchate will be in Munich. On September 23, 1959 (p. 832), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary published the text and indulgences of a prayer for the coming general council. An English translation of the prayer and its grant of indulgences will be found on pages 65-66 of this issue of the REVIEW. Views, News, Previews A RELIGIOUS WOMAN who has had a ten-year struggle against serious mental sickness has sent to the REVIEW an account of her experiences and of the lessons that can be drawn from them. The account ~is given below in the sister's own words: To many individuals, both lay and religious, the thought of living with one whb has been an inmate in a mental institution seems foreign, until it strikes home. When the family ties are those of blood relationship, there is sometimes a feeling of love, of pride, or even of legal force that makes for an attempt to keep the person a part of the family unit, even if this may cause inconvenience, embarrassment, or added expense to the other members of the family. When the relationship is one of a spir-itual nature even greater love and understanding might be expected, since the bond which binds a religious family should reflect the love of Christ Himself. Why, then, are there a considerable number of religi-ous whose returfi to their religious communities, when recommended 106 March, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS by the medical staff of a mental hospital, brings with it a stigma that differentiates them from the sisters who resume their usual duties after regaining their health from a physical illness? Perhaps personal ex-perience over a period of ten years may be helpful to others -- both sick and healthy, both superiors and subjects. In September of 1949 my usual teaching duties began. Shortly afterwards I experienced symptoms I did not understand -- sudden spells of crying, with no apparent provocation, and at the most unexpected.times. Since that time I have been a patient in four mental hospitals, seen fourteen psychiatrists, and a slightl~ lesser number of experienced priests. There is no regret in my having been ill. In fact, I think God, in HIS goodness, timed it well to save me from a growing pride and possibly a rather shallow religious life. Is it impossible for a sistek emotionally or mentally disturbed for a short time to again be a useful member of the community? Could mental sickness occur in a sister who ordinarily enjoys good health and has no history of mental illness in her family? Both may be firmly answered in the affirmative. With the realization that a "yes" may be given to question number two, the ego in you (but we hope also your love of neighbor) may spark your interest to further information on question number one. With good medical help received in time, prayer, patience, and a determination to win on the part of the patient, and.a kind and sensible attitude on the part of other members of the community, a very sick person may again be an active and useful worker for Christ as a perfectly normal member of the community. Lacking one or more of these condi-tions, she may be an added burden financially, a loss to a much needed Christian apostolate; and there is no guarantee that her suffering is any more pleasing to God than her active work would be. Resignation to His will as an inmate of a mental institution calls for the highest degree of fortitude. How many reach this goal? And how many potentially good religious have the spiritual capacity to repel bitterness or at least apathy? What can be done to lessen the number of sisters who are lost to the active apostolate unndcessarily? Superiors may: (1) be informed of symptoms of emotional disturbance. Early recognition and treatment is important. For the bu~y superior Psychiatry and Catholicism by Van der Veldt and OdenwaldI ig fairly comprehensive. (2) Have a Christ-like attitude toward the sick sister which will inspire confidence. (3) If hospitalization is necessary, welcome the patient's return to the community and to her work on the same basis as one returning after an appendectomy or other physical illness. Subjects may: (1) on the patient's return from the mental hospital, ac-cept the doctor's decision that she is well enough to return to religious ~Editor's note: James H. Van der Veldt and Robert P. Odenwald (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1952). 107 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious life and treat her like any other sister. (2) Do not avoid her or show fear in other ways, such as locking bedroom doors at night, and so forth. The patient may: (1) accept her suffering as.coming from God, but not with a pessimistic outlook; (2) cooperate with medical help given; (3) determine to regain her health, with trust in God, if such is His will; (4) keep busy or try to help others when the type and intensity of the illness-permits. It's a wonderful way to minimize your own troubles. The proof of the pudding lies in the eating. Mine has been a pro-longed meal -- ten years -- but I hope soon to taste the sweetness of dessert. A short resume will crystalize the effectiveness of the suggestions above. November, 1949, forced to give up teaching, 1949-1954, in and out of mental hospitals, stays varying from tw~ weeks to three months. Returning to the community meant being a human chessman on the board, moved here and there with jobs ranging from teaching on all levels, elementary through college, to weeding the motherhouse garden. Duration of jobs might be anywhere from one to eighteen months. The feeling of "not belonging" anywhere was not easy to accept but probably forced me to a greater trust in Christ. 1952, my spiritual director first suggested I leave my community. After twenty-four years of religious life this came as an atomic blow. 1954, Rome granted me an indult of exclaustration. 1954-1956, I.looked like a secular, lived as much as possible a religious life, and discovered I Leapt Over the Wall was a bit exaggerated. The offices in which I worked and the public school which hired me to organize and supervise an art department offered opportunity for God's work. 1956, my doctor and my spiritual director advised me to return to my community. I thought this happy move was permanent. 1957, illness struck again. On the advice of my spiritual director, Rome granted another three-year period of exclaustration. 1957-1959, organization of another public school art department brought me to a New York State area where there is much work to be done with Catholic students, civic, educational and social organizations, the local Newman Club, and friends who just come to my apartment to paint, but end up talking what they really hunger for -- religion and good living! 1960, my doctor, my spiritual director, and the vicar for religious recom-mend my return to my community. I look forward to it with true joy and the hope that with God's grace, my own cooperation, and the help of my superiors and sisters, this will be my home, until Christ welcomes me to an eternal one. The fight against depression has not been easy, but God always provided the necessary help. as it was needed. There have been setbacks which I could never have surmounted alone. Even now I am not a 108 March, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Hercules of nerves.'Marsilid and equanil supplement my daffy prayers. These are not a cure but a purely natural means, not to be spurned, in keeping me fit to do a job for Christ. There are other religions emotionally or mentally ill at present, some in hospitals, some still devotedly "holding on" to their assignments in religious communities. There will be more in the futu}e. If this account gives hope to even one, I shall feel grateful to the priests and doctors who encouraged me to write. The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Penn-sylvania (a three-yea~ summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for sisters), will be held this year August 20-31. This is the first year in the triennial course. The course in canon law is given by the Rev. Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., that in ascetical theology by the Rev. Thomas E. Clarke, S. J., both of Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The registration is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors, general and provincial officials, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to Rev. Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., Woodstock College; Woodstock, Md. ( uestions and Answers [The following answers are given b~v Father Joseph F. Gallen, S. J., professor of canon law at Woodstock Col!eg~, Woodstock, Maryland.] Local Houses and Superiors Questions and cases on local houses and local superiors have been submitted with great frequency. Private replies were given to most of these, but it was thought profitable and even necessary to publish all " together and in l?gical order. Questions have been divided whenever this was demanded by the same order. The questions on local houses and local superiors will be continued through several issues of the REVIEW. I. Local Houses 1. We are a clerical exempt institute. We wish to rent a house in a summer resort, to be used only as a vacation place for our com-munity. Do we need the permission of the local ordinary to rent and use this house? The stable residence of religious and the customary tenor of life of the institute are necessary to have a religious house in any sense of this term. Therefore, a mere vacation residence owned, rented, or granted temporarily to an institute and used only as a vacation place is not a religious but a secular house. It lacks both of the requisites given 109 QUESTIONS AND ANSWEas Review for Religious above. Canon law contains no prescriptions on secular houses of religious, and therefore no permission of the local ordinary is necessary for any institute to build or open such a vacation or similar residence. It would usually be courteous to consult him before taking this action; for example, many such residences in one resort might cause difficulty for the diocese. The two requisites given above can be verified in residences which are used also as vacation places; if so, they are canonically erected or filial houses, which will be explained in questions and cases below. 2. What is the relation of the other buildings on our grounds to the religious house, that is, the building in which at least most of the religious reside? In its material sense, a religious house is the house or building in which the religious reside; but all buildings located within the same property, grounds, or premises and buildings not separated from that in which the religious reside are considered part of the. religious house; for example, separate buildings on the same grounds for a college, a preparatory or elementary school, library, science building, infirmary, gymnasium, and houses for workmen are all part of the religious house. Even when not on the same grounds nor contiguous to the residence of the religious, a building is not considered as separate if it can be judged morally to form part of the same group of buildings. It is certainly separate if a mile distant; but a building a few doors away from the residence of the religious, even if a street is between them, can still be said to be part of the same group of buildings. Because of this material sense, a novice is not absent if he is confined by sickness to an infirmary building on the same grounds but distinct 'from the novitiate building (c. 556, §§ 1-2). For the same reason, first profession may licitly be made in the college chapel on the same grounds, even though this building is distinct from that in which the community resides (c. 574, § 1). 3. Our constitutions 'speak of property owned and debts incur-red by the houses, provinces, and institute. How can any of these as such own property or incur debts? In the formal and more important sense, a religious .house is the same thing as a canonically erected religious house. It is the community as a distinct moral person, distinguished as such from both the province and the institute, which are also moral persons. A moral person in the Church may be described as an ecclesiastical corporation. It is a subject of rights and obligations, which are distinct from those of its members considered individually or collectively. A moral person can acquire, own, and administer property (cc. 531-32); is responsible for its debts and obligations (c. 536, § 1); can sue or be sued in court (cc. 1552, § 2, 1°; 1649; 1653, § 6); can receive privileges (cc. 72, §§ 3:4; 613; 615); enjoys precedence (cc. 106, 491), and so forth. The antecedent requisites for a canonically erected house are: (1) at the time of the erection it must 110 March, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS consist of at least three religions (c. 100, § 2); (2) a distinct community with its own proper superior; (3) the stable dwelling of religious in the house; (4) and the customary tenor of life of the institute according to its particular constitutions. It is not necessary that a religions institute be the proprietor of a canonically erected house, a filial house, or a separated establishment. All of these may be owned or rented by the institute or their use gratuitously given to the institute. All may be an entire building or a part of a building, for example, a floor or an apartment. The Code of Canon Law itself grants to a canonically erected house the character of a moral person consequent upon the fulfillment of the canonical formalities prescribed for an erection. 4. Our constitutions state that a parish school convent, because it is owned by the parish, cannot be a canonically erected religious house. Is this correct? No. As stated in the preceding question, the character of a moral person, of an ecclesiastical corporation, is something completely distinct from the ownership of the property where the moral person is located. Therefore, ownership of the property by the religious institute is not required for a canonically erected religious house. The sense of these particular constitutions may be that the institute will petition canonical erection only for houses that it owns. 5. Our hospital ,is civilly incorporated. The board of the civil corporation authorized the addition of a new wing to the hospital. This will cost $2,500,000. Do we need any permissions beyond the authorization of this board? Every religious institute, province, or house, by its erection as a moral person according to the norms of canon law, possesses, in virtue " of canon 531, the unlimited right of acquiring, owning, and administering temporal property (cf. c. 1495, § 2). This right extends to all species of property, all rights of use, and the right of receiving returns on property. The code permits the particular constitutions to exclude o~ limit this capacity. When the civil state, as in the United States, does not recognize an ecclesiastical moral person established by the Church, religions moral persons should incorporate civilly, so as to secure civil efficacy and protection of their property rights, which they actually possess from canon law. The incorporation therefore is a mere civil formality. The property rights are possessed in virtue of canon law, and the property must always be administered according to canon law and the constitu- ¯ tions (c. 532, § 1). In any transaction, the requisite civil formalities are to be fulfilled but only that the transaction may have civil efficacy and protection. The substantial law that governs the transaction is that of canon law and the constitutions. Care is to be taken, if externs are ad-mitted as members of the board, that religious of the institute are always in the majority. An institute may treat such a board also as an advisory 111 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious committee, but in itself the authorization of the board is a mere civil formality. In the present case, the transaction is the expenditure of $2,500,000 for a new wing to a hespital. If the hospital already has this sum on hand, the permission of the mother general with the vote of her council prescribed by the general chapter will be necessary, because the trans-action is an act of extraordinary administration. If the hospital has to borrow money for the project, as is most likely true, the norms of canon 534 on contracting debts, supplemented by the enactments of the general chapter on the same subject, must be observed. In either case, the re-course to higher authority is required for the validity of the transaction. See Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome Iuris Canonici, II, n. 819; Brys, Juris Canonici Compendium, II, n. 855; Muzzarelli, De Congregationibus Iuris Dioecesani, n. 163; Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 253; Vromant, De Bonis Ecc~esiae Temporalibus, n. 8. 6. We have the house system of delegates for the general chapter, that is, each house of~ at least twelve religious sends its local superior to this chapter in virtue of his office and elects one non-superior delegate. Smaller houses are combined into groups of at least twelve and not more than twenty-three religious. Each group elects one superior and one non-superior delegate. Are filial houses considered smaller houses? In some institutes, all houses except the mother house are called missions, branch houses, or filial houses, which is not the strict sense. The essential note of a filial house in the strict sense is that it is not a distinct moral person but part of the larger canonically erected house to which it is attached. The one at the head Of a filial house is therefore not a superior in the proper sense of this word, even though he may have this title. He is a mere delegate of either a higher superior or of the superior of the larger house, and his authority is as wide as the delegation. In lay institutes, he is appointed by a higher superior, either for a specified term, for example, three years, or for no determined period of time. In the latter case, he may be removed at any time at the mere will of the higher superior. Since it is not a moral person, the filial house does not own property, all of which is owned by the larger house. There-fore, it has no bursar. Its local bursar is that of the larger house, but he may have an assistant in the filial house. A filial house has no coun-cilors, since it is not canonically a house (c. 516, § 1). Unless otherwise specified in the constitutions, the capitular rights of those residing in the filial house are exercised in the larger house, of which t.hey are to vote as members for the election of delegates~ to the provincial or general chapter. The number of religious resident in a filial house is usually small. The larger house to which the filial house is attached is ordinarily located in the same city or in a nearby place. The constitutions of brothers and sisters, whether pontifical or diocesan, most rarely mention filial houses. All such institutes may open 112 March, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS filial houses, unless this is expressly forbidden by the constitutions. A few constitutions have only a brief statement of the following type: "Communities of two or three sisters can be made dependent on larger houses when the mother general and her council consider it opportune." Such constitutions do not explain the election of delegates in ~elation to a filial house. Others contain such an explanation; for example: "Religious living in branch houses who cannot go to the principal house for the election of the delegate will send their sealed votes there. These votes will be, taken out of their envelopes in. the presence of the com-munity and placed in the ballot box with those of the religious who are present," "Branch houses have not the right of sending either superior or delegates to the proyincial chapter, but the vocal sisters of these branch houses will unite with the vocal sisters of the nearest house to elect delegates to the provincial chapter." Unless a special provision has been made in the constitutions, as in the last case, those residing in the filial house must vote as members of the larger house to which the former is attached for the election of delegates. This is evident from the fact that the filial house is part of the larger house. This essential argument is confirmed by the fact that the religious at the head of a filial house is not a superior and therefore has no right to be voted for as a superior delegate. Furthermore, the constitutions say that smaller houses are to be united (cf. Normae of 1901, n. 216). A filial house is not canonically a house but part of a house. The present difficulty in the election of delegates occurs only in the house, not in the group, system. Unless the constitutions state the contrary, as.in the second dase, all electors must be physically present for an election, according to the norm of canon 163. In lay congregations, a filial house ordinarily does not contain more than three religious; but this is not a matter of general law in the Church. Even in such institutes, filial houses are sometimes larger. The following authors explicitly affirm that the capitular rights are to be exercised in the house t'o which the filial house is attached: Maroto, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 5 (1924), 128, note 14; Ver-meersch, Periodica, 13 (1923), 55; Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 166; Jombart, Dictionnaire de Droit Canonique, VI, 700; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in Church Law, n. 12; Fanfanl, De Iure Religiosorum, m 20; De Carlo, Jus Religiosorum, n. 42; Flanagan, The Canonical Erection of Religious Houses, 31. 7. Our constitutions distinguish formal and non-formal

Issue 16.5 of the Review for Religious, 1957. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1957 God's Living Sermon . Bonaventure Balsam Dismissal in Lay Institutes . Jo,eph g. ~,allen Our Supernatural Organism . Daniel J. M. Callahan Book Reviews Questions and Answers Roman Documents VOLUME 16 NUMBER 5 RI::VII:::W FOR RI:LIGIOU.S VOLUME 16 SEPTEMBER, 1957 NUMBER, 5 CONTENTS GOD'S LIVING SERMON AND MYSTERY-- Bonaventure Balsam, O.P . 257 DISMISSAL OF RELIGIOUS IN LAY INSTITUTES-- Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 265 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 292 OUR SUPERNATURAL ORGANISMu Daniel J. M. Callahan, S.J . 293 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . i99 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS--R. F. Smith, S.J . 300 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS: 29. Professed of Temporary Vows and Return to Motherhouse for Perpetual Profession . " . '.309 30. Adaptation and Renovation and New Laws on Poverty . 310 31. Last Gospel According to the Simplified Rubrics .312 32. Masses. Permitted on the Saturday of Our Lady . 312 33. Personal Gifts and Poverty . 312 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS: Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 313 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1957. Vol. 16, No. 5. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's World, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J., Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1957, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard. St. Louis 18, Missouri. God's Living Sermon and Myst:ery Bonavent:ure Balsam, O.P. WE CANNOT LOVE, reverence, and respect what we do not know: A religious priest, brother, or sister will never love and appreciate his life and vocation as much as it is lovable unless he first sees and tastes the indescribable nobility of that vocation. We begin to evaluate a thing rightly only when we begin to see it, to understand it, rightly. Misguided love follows on misguided and false knowledge, detestation often follows on the footsteps of ignorance. To a very great extent, the intensity' and scope of our love will depend on the genuineness and grasp of our knowledge. All religious preach God. They do so, not so much by word of mouth as by their whole life. Their preaching--and this is the judgment of the great minds of the Church- since it is by action, can make a far deeper and more lasting im-pression on the world than any or all the sermons preached in Notre Dame Cathedral. For religious are their own sermon and their own cathedral. In preparing and preaching .their sermon to the world, they must study, not so much the spoken word, as the far more powerful and vocal deed. If .we could summarize in a few words the influence which it is the role of a religious to have on the world about him, it is this: it is his vocation in life to teach the whole world this v~ery important lesson, "We have here no lasting city, but we look for 6ne which is to come." By their life, religious must preach that lesson to the world. It is the holy and privileged task of every religious to make the world unworldly, to teach the world to be divine, and to lift up the mind and heart of the world to God in one great offertory. The vocation of a religious is brought home to him every day in the Preface of 257 BONAVENTURE BALSAM. Review for Religious the Mass; he is to lift up the heart of the world to God in love, "Sursum Corda.'" And where a religious does not find love, he must see to.it that God puts love there. As St. John of the Cross says: "~ 'here there is no love, you must put love." To preach that sermon with its double element of detachment from the world and clinging to God is the vocation, par rxcellence, of every religious brother and sister. In a special way, and by special right, religious can apply to themselves the words of the same St. John: "The life of every religious sho~,ld be a complete doctrinal sermon." The life of every religious is one continuous paradox, a divine anomaly. Religious must love the whole world and everyone in it; yet they must ceaselessly try to keep it dis-satisfied with itself, discontented. Their life is one of opposi. tion to the spirit of the world and its maxims, one of constant disagreement and protest. That is a most unenviable task; and, like all opposition and protest, it brings with it much enmity and misunderstanding. That is why the-world often and in many ways misunderstands religious and scorns them. That is why, too, religious sometimes misunderstand them-selves and their role in the salvation of the world. In walk-ing down the street, every step a religious takes is a sort of step of protest, of admonition. He protests to the world and warns it that the glitter and tinsel meeting the eyes on all sides are all too ephemeral and passing and petty and that the only One worth living for and loving with every fibre of one's being is God. The way that they teach this to the world which they live in, but away from, is a most efficacious one. Religious preach to the world by the daily living of their vows which make their life unearthly because heavenly. By their vow of poverty religious lecture on the unending wonders of divine Providence. They lecture on that subject though they may never actually utter a word about it; they do not have to, for they live their subject. By the mere fact that they have freely and gladly relinquished all claim and aspira- 258 September, 1957 GOD'S LIVING SERMON tion to this world's goods, religious proclaim to the world that they trust in God's divine providence with an unshakeable confidence and that "possessing nothing, they have all things." For they have learned to "cast your care upon the Lord, who cares for you." Religious daily experience the truth of St. Paul's words: "As needy though enriching many; as having nothing and possessing all things." By that childlike confi-dence in divine Providence, a confidence solidified andmade a very part of their life and reridered inamissible, as it were, by their vow of poverty, religious take at face value the loving promise of our Lord that, if God is ever careful to feed the birds of the air and clothe the grass of the fields, will He not take infinitely greater care of a religious who is of much more value than they and the rest of the material universe combined? Moreover, by their vow of poverty religious te.ach a materialistic world an important lesson in divine economics, for they teach the world a proper sense of values, a divinely wise and exact evaluation of all creation. Religious appraise things for what they are--and are not--and proper ap-praisal of a thing is indispensable for its true appreciation and enjoyment. One can never love a thing rightly until one knows its true value; j~ust as one can never know its worth unless one knows the value God places on it. All of which means that we can never love a creature rightly except in and through God Who makes it worth whatever it is. In teaching mankind all this by ~he daily living of their vow of poverty, religious are teaching a most wise lesson. In so doing, they themselves become more wise and share their wisdom with others. For it belongs to the wise man to order and evaluate things rightly. By their vow of chastity, religious teach the world another saving lesson; they teach a selfish and unsacrificing world the value of sacrifice. Religious teach the world the fruitfulness of unfruitfulness. They teach the world that in order to win more of the children of God they have given them up. Relig- 259 BONAVENT~JRE BALSAM Review for Religious ious teach a grasping world that, in order to gain what is really worthwhile, one must lose what is really not worthwhile. They teach the world that oi~ten the only way to conquer is to surrender and that everything that one gives up for God he gains back again in God, and "pressed down, in good measure, and flowing over." And God besides. Religious give up a lesser privilege t~or a .greater one; they t~orego the privilege of bringing children into the world because to that privilege they pret~er the greater privilegi~ of bringing God into the world. So, in actuality, the chaste brotherhood or sisterhood of a religious is far more fruitful and noble than wedded t:ather-hood, or motherhood. There is something more that religious can do t~or the world and for God's children which often goes unappreciated even by themselves. Religious should realize the element of personal reparation and vicarious atonement inherent in their vow of chastity./ Vices are not only expelled, but are most fittingly atoned for, by. their opposite virtues. Religious are God's "chosen pedple." They stay the avenging hand of God by the purity of their lives. God, in looking upon the un-earthly purity of His religious, is moved to forgive the morass of impurity in which a great part of mankind is floundering and to give it grace to repent and change its evil ways. Here, again, the life of religious is a living protest to a "wicked and adulterous generation." The protest they lodge against the world is the silent protest ot~ their unassuming though uncon-cealable modesty and purity which, "like a city seated on a mountain top, cannot be hid." By their entire and absolute chastity, religious work to make this carnal world into a holy and pure generation. They must offer up their chastify, which makes them akin to the angels, as a protest to the world and and as a propitiatory sacrifice for its unspeakable impurities. Only the pure o~ heart will ever see God,. and they alone will be able to show God to others. God makes use o~ the conse-crated purity ot~ a religious to sterilize the world ot~ its in~ection 260 September, 1957 GOD'S LIVING. SERMON of impurity. Thus the~ freely chosen childlessness of religious is, .indeed, most fertile of good--their holy barrenness begets countless children of God. By their vow of obedience, religious proclaim to the world that the root of all sin lies in inordinate self-love and inordinate self-will. And they teach the world the remedy fo~ this ill. By their obedience, religious tell the world that the only way to escape out of the maddening labyrinth "of self and selfish-ness is to take one's will in both hands and exchange it for the #111 of God by riveting it to His most Sacred' Heart. The o~nly way to be truly free is.to serve m to serve God without stint. In this exchange of wills one's own narrowness and smallness are exchanged for the infinite generosity of God. The stagnate pool of selfishness ,is displaced by7 the restless sea of love which is God's holy will. And since the will of God is the cause of all good; since, too, religious have exchanged their will for His by vow, then they too will bring into the world and into the lives of men unlimited good. Religiods, by the life they lead, will diffuse through the universe some of the infinite goodness of God. In this vowed exchange of wills with God, religious be-come more and more sinless. For the more God's will dis- 'places theirs and becomes the motive force of their life and actions, the more religious approa.ch the state of impeccability --the impeccability of God's holy will. Hence, the more and longer God's. will works in them, the less will they fall into daily sins and faults, and the more they will do, and diffuse, good about them. The world seeing this transformation in religious, their own fellowmen, will first wonder at them, then admire them, and finally imitate them. And when the world imitates them, religious thus renew the face of the earth. They and the life they live. Besides being a living sermon on G~d, every religious is a living mystery also. Religious must have all the elements 261 BONAVENTURE BALSAM Review for Religious about them of a true mystery of faith. They must be thor-oughly supernatural. They must think, will, and act always on a supernatural plane. They must survey the whole of their own life and every event that befalls them from that super-natural ~vantage point, from the loft~; peaks of faith. Their viewpoint, their perspective of everything will always and every-where be determined by faith. Nothing will be purposeless; everything will be judged according to a divine pattern. All their assignments, and the minutest details and circumstances surrounding those assignments, must be looked upon and judged with the eyes of faith. The hardships and crosses of a par- ' ticular assignment, the trials and difficulties attached to an act of obedience, the misunderstandings and false accusations that may dog their steps, all these must be seen in their supernatural light. They must be seen as~having a definite .place in God's plan for their sanctification and salvation. Never will religious live on the merely natural level mthe level of those who have no faith. Rather, they must, under all circumstances, "live in such a way that their life would not make sense if God did not exist." God and their great faith in God must determine every decision religious make, must be the heart in every one of their motives for acting. By profession, and even more by religious consecration, religious belong to God and are familiar with God's ways. But religious are a living mystery for more reasons than that. As in the case of every' mystery, their life is one of im-penetrable paradox. Religious are in the very midst of the wo~ld, though they can never claim any of it as their own. By profession, they are consecrated down to their fingertips. Though they are vowed to seek after that peace which only God can give, still they are ever stirring up discontent and dissatisfaction. They are ever fomenting a rebellion against the ways of the world. A religious is an aposde of elevation; his whole life tends to. raise the general worth and standards of. mankind by the 262 September, 1957 GOD'S LIVING SERMON unearthliness and loftiness of his own life. He is the divine yeast in the rather inert and formless mass'of humanity without God. He is what the priest has been called, "the minister of restlessness." In looking upon his life, the world is wounded with a sort of tormenting longing for the divine. A religious may be rightly called "an apostle of the abso-lute." He is ever on a relentless search, a quest, not for that which is merely good, but for that which is God, for the Per-fect. His very religious consecration makes him ever a pilgrim, ever a foreigner to this wor/d, and en route to see the face of God. Whatever he finds, good, whether in himself or in others, he must ever try to make better. He is gripped by a continu-ous and divine unrest, which, oddly enough, is the great source of the profound peace which surrounds his life. That unrest takes the form of a hunger to be more united to God, though he knows full well that divine union must entail the painful surrendering of deep-seated attachments. It entails turning a deaf ear to the unending call of the flesh to pla~ riot in the warm fields of its pleasures; it entails purging out of one's spiritual organism the multiplicity of sins which plague it and keep it undeveloped, ~tunted, and impede its more complete union with God. All this means pain, struggle, denial, sacri-fice, and death. But the religious is equally aware that in the midst of all this struggle to embrace his God and never to let Him go there is a joy that makes all this tremendous effort and strife insignificant, short-lived, accountable as nothing at all. He knows that the more he peels away the outer bark of bitter self, the more he sees and tastes of the fruit of God with-in. He knows that the sufferinss of these times are like seasoning, sharp and bitter, but necessary to taste one's God, indeed to consume Him in love. Like ev.ery mystery, the religious .must remain beyond. the ken and grasp of the generality of mankind. He will be misunderstood, his actions misconstrued. So lofty and extra-ordinary is his life that those who see only with a fleshly eye 263 BONAVENTURE BALSAM will say that it is impossible or a huge deception. He will be considered a cowardly fugitive from the world, from reality; 'whereas, in truth, he pursues thd world in its flight from God, takes it in his arms as a father does a recalcitrant child, and offers it up to God in love. Instead of being a dreamer, as he is accused of being, he is the world's greatest realist, for he knows and appreciates God, the cause of all reality, and claims Him as his very own possession and gift to the world. Since he is a sort of special creation of God, the religious must remain unknown; he must n~ver become profane. When his life becomes common, banal, vulgar, a byword among the people, he is no longer a living and sacred mystery; he is now common knowledge. He has then lost that necessary quality of' super-naturalness. He must ever remain like a beautiful tree with its roots hidden in the earth and its head and heart in the heavens. Every religious is a living mystery. Like every divine mystery, he must be accessible to all those who ai, e seeking God. He and his life must ever be a source of awe for the world. Being a pilgrim and an apostle of the absolute, of perfection, he must keep the world dissatisfied, discontented with its smug and mediocre ways. He must be .the tangible and living expres-sion of the life of God and the degree in which it can be shared by grace. His life must be one of elevation, of an offertory. Sworn to pursue perfection, he must make himself and the world one grand host of love offered up to God in adoration, thanksgiving, petition, and atonement. From ttie rising of the sun even to the going down thereof, the religious must be a liv!ng mystery and sermon of God. 264 Dismissal ot: Religious in Lay Insfit:u es Lloseph g. Gallen, S.,J. 1. Definition. Dismissal is the compulsory departure from a religious institute during the time of the vows of the religious. Any religious, whether of solemn or simple vows, perpetual or temporary, may be dismissed. Dismissal is effected by the de-cree of the competent superior and by law, ipso facto, or automatically because of the commission of any of the crimes specified in canon 646. The present article is confined to the dismissal of religious in lay institutes. However, the norms are the same in other institutes for the dismissal of a professed of temporary vows and also for men of perpetual vows in a clerical non-exempt institute. The canonical prescriptions for the dis-missal of a clerical or lay religious man of perpetual vows in a clerical and exempt institute are likewise the same as in a lay institute of men except that in the former the crimes, admoni-tions, and incorrigibility must be proved in a judicial process. The provisional return to secular life is essentially the same in a clerical exempt institute (cc. 653; 668). The laws of the code and of the particular constitutions must be accurately' and sincerely observed in a dismissal. They were enacted to protect the rights of both the institute and the individual religious. It is very likely that an unusual number of highly unsatisfactory religious justifies a complaint against facility of admission and retention during the probationary periods rather than against the difficulty of dismissal. It is evident, also that the age of the religious is to be considered before deciding on the formalities of a dismissal, even though this is not mentioned in the code. Older religious should be dismissed only for most serious reasons. Their adjustment to secular life, especially in the case of a religious woman, is obvi-ousl'y more difficult. A religious whose conduct merits serious 265 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious thoughts of dismissal should practically always be first encour-aged to ask for an indult of secularization. Those who are found certainly unsuitable at any time during temporary pro-fession are to be counseled to ask foi: an indult of secularization rather than to wait until the voluntary departure or exclusion at the expiration of temporary vows. I. Competent Authority for Dismissal by Decree and for Final Adjudication of Provisional Sending Back to Secular Life . 2. In pontifical congregations. (a) For professed men and women of temporary vows (c. 647, § 1). The competent authority is the superior general with the deliberative and secret vote of his council. In the few constitutions where his part in any dismissal is mentioned, it is prescribed that the pro-vincial should consult his council before proposing a dismissal to the superior general. The provincial will usually, in fact, initiate a dismissal by proposing it to the superior general, Since the matter is one of greater importance, in prudence he should at lea~t ordinarily consult his council before doing so. (b) For professed of perpetual vows. 1° In congregations of men (c. 650, § 2, 2°). The superior general with the consent of his council is competent to decree the dismissal, but his decree has no effect until it is confirmed by the Sacred Congregation of Religious. 2° In congregations of women (c. 652, § 3). The Sac/ed Congregation of Religious alone is competent to decree the dismissal. 32 For professed of temporary or perpetual vows in diocesan congregations of men or women (cc. 647, § 1; 650, § 2, 1°; 652, § 1). The competent authority in all cases of men or women is the ordinary of the diocese where the house to which the religious is attached is located. The ordinary of the diocese of the generalate is competent only for religious attached to houses' in his diocese. In virtue of canon 647, § 1, the local ordinary may certainly initiate the dismissal of a professed of temporary vows. He probably possesses the same .right with regard to professed men or women of perpetual vows.' If the 266 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES ordinary initiates the dismissal, he is obliged to inform the superior general before dismissing the religious. He is also obliged to give consideration to the reasons the superior gen-eral proposes against the dismissal and is forbidden to dismiss a religious, if this superior ha~ just reasons against it. If he does so, the superior general has the right of recurring to the Sacred Congregation of Religious. 4. Societies living in common without~ public vows (c. 681). The norms of dismissal for pontifical and diocesan religious congregations ~pply also to these pontifical and diocesan socie-ties, i. e., the norms for the professed of temporary vows apply to members whose bond is temporary, those for religious of perpetual vows to members whose bond in such a society is per-petual. 5. In monasteries of nuns. (a) For professed of temporary vows .(c. 647, § 1). If the monastery is not subject to regu-lars, the competent authority is the local ordinary of the mon-astery. If the monastery is subject to regulars: two opinions are probable, i. e., the competent authority is either only the regular superior or, the more probable opinion, the regular superior and the local ordinary acting conjointly. (b) For professed of perpetual vows (c. 652, § 2). The competent authority is the Sacred Congregation of Religious, but all the documents and acks of the case are to be transmitted to the congregation by the local ordinary of the monastery with his own vote and that of .the regular superior, if the mon-astery is subject to regulars. 6. Obligation of competent authorities. The competent au-thorities, as well as the superior and his council who propose a dismissal to such authority, have a grave obligation in con-science to observe the norms for dismissal imposed by canon law (cf. c. 647, § 2). ~ Tabera, Corntnent,~rium Pro Reli]io$i$, 13-1932-124-25; 14-1933-35; Schaet:er, De Religiosis, n. 1602; Quinn, Relation of t/~e Local Ordinary to Religious o/ Diocesan/l$/~ro¢,al, 103-105. 267 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious . II. Dismissal by Decree of a Professed of Temporary Vows (cc. 647-48) 7. Sufficient" reasons for dismissal. (a) ' General principles (c. 647, § 2, 1°.3°). The authority dismissing a religious of tem-porary vows must have. moral certainty, i. e., a judg,ment that excludes a founded doubt, of the existence and sufficiency of the reasons. The reasons must be external to the extent that they are known by others. They mu~t also be ~sekious'or grave, which does not imply serious moral culp~ibilit~ or any culpa-bility at all. The general principies on the sufficiency 0f the reasons are that it is to the good of the institute not to retain the subject; the institute will suffer a notable harm or serious incon;cenience in retaining him; there is no hope that ~he reli-gious will be able to conform his life in a creditable or praise-worthy manner to the demands of .the constitutions; "lie lacks the general aptitude for the religious life or the special aptitude requisite for the spiritual life or works of. the particular insti-tute; and any reason is sufficient that is of the same or greater import than that stated by way of example in canon 647, § 2, 2°, i. e., a defect of religious spirit that 'is a cause of scandal to others. It is probable, as under exclusion from a further profession,~ that after more than six prescribed years in tem-porary vows a religious may be dismissed or~ly for reasons that are sufficient to dismiss a professed of perpetual vows. (b) Particular sufficient reasons (c. 647, § 2, 2°). A sufficient reason on the part of the institute is the lack of aptitude stated in the preceding paragraph. Sufficient-reasons on the part of the religious himself can be reduced to intelledtual defects, which is included under aptitude above, to health, which will be explained below, and to moral defects. Moral defects constitute" tl~e principal motive for dismissal. The code mentions only one sufficient cause of dismissal by way of ex-ample, and this is a habitual moral defect, i. e., a defect of 2Cf./IEwsw FOg RELXG~OL~S, July, 1957, 216-18. 268 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY ]INSTITUTES religious spirit that is a cause of scandal to others. This defect can be ascertained from the conduct and motives of the religious and from the effect of his conduct on others. Such a religious seems to lack all supernatural motives, and' acts almost constantly from those that are purely natural. He is de~oid of love, attachment, and devotion to the religious life and its duties. His transgressions arise from habitual negligence, sloth, weariness, perversity, and ill will, not from accidental weakness and frailty. He ,manifests little care or effort for per-sonal sanctification. In his conduct he "habitually violates the constitutions, rules, customs, and usages of the.institute, even if not in relatively serious matters. He obeys superiors with diffi-culty in matters that are not strictly commanded. He habitually omits, performs carelessly, or places little value on religious exer-cises. In its effect on others, the conduct described above is already scandalous in a person consecrated to God. Such conduct and the fact that .the motives and state of his will externally manifest themselves decrease in others respect and 'devotion to the religious life and its duties and make observance of religious disci-pline by others more difficult. Often there, is added the direct insti-gation of others to violations of religious duties and discipline. Among the equivalent habitual moral defects are the follow-ing. 1° Obedience. Habitual, unwilling, and grudging obedience; .habitual murmuring against and criticism of superiors; habitual negligence in fulfilling duties assigned by superiors. 2° Poverty. Repeated violations of the vow and of common life, even if not in serious matters. 3° Anger. One who is habitually quarrelsome or has an" ungovernable temper that~ breaks out in frequent and serious fitsof anger and causes frequent disturb-ance of the peace of the community, loss of peace of soul, insults, and injuries to companions, .and dissensions in the community. 4° Charity. One who is addicted to faults of the tongue that annoy, disturb, or provoke others to quarrels, Or that consist of frequent calumnies, detractions, imprudenc~e in speech or violations of secrets. 5° Disturber of the peace. A 269 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious habitual disturber of the peace of the community who creates or fosters dissatisfaction, dissensions, factions, or provokes to quarrels. 8. Necessity of repeated admonition and salutary penance with-out effect (c. 647, § 2, 2°). Any habitual moral defect is a sufficient reason for dismissal only when a repeated admonition together with a salutary penance has produced no effect. The code demands only that the subject should have been admon-ished at least twice, orally or in writing, secretly or in a manner /hat can be proved, by a local or higher superior, to reform his conduct. Canon law does not require here that the admoni-tion be given in virtue of a mandate from a higher superior or that a threat of dismissal be. added to the admonition. The salutary penance to be added to each admonition i~ one suitable for effecting the reform of the religious and the reparation of the scandal" already given. It will consist of the penances in use in the particular institute, e. g., recitation of determined prayers, an act of humility, or a public acknowledgment or reprehension of defects. A sufficient period of time is to be allowed to pass "after the second admonition to permit the religious to reform his conduct. After this period, if he has ¯ nbt reformed his conduct to such an extent that it can no longer be considered a sufficient cause for dismissal, he may be dismissed. Both for the reform of the religious and proof in the eCent of dismissal and recourse, the more secure and prudent ¯ dgctrine is to be followed in practice, i. e., a threat of dismissal is to be added to each admonition and the admonition and penance are to be given in such a way that there will be proof that both were given and received. This can be accomplished b'y¯giving the admonition and penance before two witnesses or in writing. A copy of such a document is to be retained. by the institute. 9. A single act as a sufficient reason. A religious of temporary vows may be dismissed because of a very serious single act, 270 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES e. g., a grave external s_in against chastity; formal contempt of the authority of superiors; violation of a formal precept .of obedience; an act that creates a danger of notable harm or infamy to the institute; serious scandal given once or twice in the community, or what is more serious, to seculars, when there are indications that the same thing will happen again.-~ A pro-fessed of temporary vows who becomes a fugitive from religion or does the same thing as an apostate from religion, even though he cannot technically be called an apostate because he is not in perpetual vows, may be dismissed because of either of these acts. :~ 10. Insul/icient reasons (c. 647, ~ 2, 2°). The statement of the religious that he never possessed or has lost a religious vocation or the mere agreement of the institute and the religious that he be dismissed are insufficient reasons. In either case, the religious, giving all the reasons that actually exist, may ask for an indult of secularization or may wait and depart at the expiration of temporary vows. Ill health is a sufficient reason for dismissal only if it was certainly fraudule.ntly concealed or dissimulated before the first profession of temporary' vows. Everything said under exclusion from a further profession because of ill health, lack of ability arising from ill health, ailments such as hysteria and neurasthenia, and insanity apply here also.~ 11. Procedure (c. 647, § 2, 3°). No special process is pre-scribed for attaining certainty of the existence and sufficiency of the reasons for dismissal nor for decreeing the dismissal. If it is d~cided to proceed to dismissal, the .necessary preliminary data should be written out first, i. e., the religious and family name of the subject, age, date of entrance into the postulancy and noviceship, date or dates of temporary profession, and the houses and employments to which the religious had been assigned. To this should be added a brief and accurate descrip-tion of the previous conduct of the religious. The formalities 3 Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1957, 162-63. -1 Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1957, 219-20. 271 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious of dismissal are practically always preceded by a protracted period o'f most unsatisfactory conduct. The decision on dis-missal is then to be studied and obviously with the greatest care. The matters to be decided are whether certain proof is had of the existence and sufficiency of the reasons, of the admonitions given privately and of those given in writing or before witnesses with a threat of dismissal, and of the lack of effect, of these admonitions. Proof of the existence of the reasons will ordinarily be from signed statements of local superiors and councilors, principals of schools, companions in religion, etc. Canon 647, ~ 2, 3°, prescribes that all the reasons for dismissal, not the proofs nor the names of the witnesses, be manifested to the religious orally or in writing before dismissal. The proposal of the reasons in writing is preferable for proof. The religious must be given full liberty and a su~cient amount of. time to reply to the charges. He is .to be counseled to reply in writing. If his replies are given orally, they are to be taken down immediate!y in writing and he is to be requested to sign them. If he refuses, this is to be noted in the document on which his replies are given. His replies are to be submitted fully to the authority competent for dismissal. Everything given above in this number should have been followed also by the superior general and his council in a diocesan congregation and the superioress and her council in a monastery of nuns before tl~e written petition for dismissal is forwarded to the competent authority. The vote of the council should be given in writing to this authority. In a monastery of nuns, this vote must be deliberative.~ In a diocesan .congregation, the superior general will present the petition for a dismissal to the local ordinary; but the constitutions will frequently require the con-sultive or deliberative vote of his council for such a petition. The local ordinary and the regular superior must have certainty ~Cf. Tabera, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 12-1931-372-73; Larraona, ibid., 2-1921-364-65; Schaefer, 010. cir., n. 1584. 272 September', 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES of the existence and sufficiency of the reasons alleged in the representations of the superior. They accordingly have the right and duty of investigating the existence of the reasons, although this is usually proved in the proposal of the superior, and of weighing the seriousness of these reasons. 12. Dismissal. If the decision is for dismissal, a decree" of dismissal should be drawn up containing the date, name of the religious, the reasons for dismissai, and the statement that the religious is therewith informed of his right of suspensive recourse against the decree to the Sacred Congregation of Religious. The decree should either be read to the religious or he should be given a copy of it. Either the original-or a copy of the decree and of all the proofs and documents in the case is to be retained in the files of the institute. It would be well to give the religi-ous a written statement to the effect that he was l~gitimately dismissed from the institute and freed of all his vows and obligations. In the presence of two religious as witnesses, the dismissed religious is to be asked to sign the following or a similar docu-ment after it has beenread to him. "I realize that I am hereby informed that'I have the 'right of recurring to the Sacred Congregation of Religious against this decree of dismissal and that, if I make this recourse within ten days from this date, such a recourse will suspend the effect of this decree until offi-cial notification is received that the decree has been confirmed by the same Sacred Congregation." The two religious witnesses are also to sign as such. If the dismissed religious will riot sign, this refusal is to be noted on the document; and the two religious witnesses ard also to attest on the document to this refusal. This document also is to be retained by the institute. If the religious has already left the institute illicitly, th'e notification of the decree and of the right of suspensive recourse is to be sent to him by certified mail, which provides for a receipt, to the sender and a record of delivery at the offi~ce of the address. 13. Suspensive recourse (c. 647, § 2, 4°). The one who 273 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious communicates the decree of dismissal is counseled in a reply of the Sacred Congregation of Religious to inform the religious of his right of recourse.° This should always be done; and several authors advise that this information be included, as above, in the decree of dismissal. The religious has the right of making a suspensive recourse to the Sacred Congregation of Religious against the decree of dismissal within ten days from the date on which he was informed of the decree. The first day is not counted. If the religious was informed of the decree on June 1, the time begins to run on June 2 and expires ~it midnight of June 11-12. The time does not run for any period during which the subject is ignorant of his right or unable to act, e. g., because of illness. The recourse is to be made by letter, either immediately by the subject or mediately through the superior who communicated the decree to him. The subject is to give his reasons againsf the dismissal. Proof that he had made the recourse is had by the authentic document of his own letter or the testimony of two trustworthy witnesses. The recourse within ten, days suspends the effect of the decree, which is completely ineffective until the authority that issued the decree is notified of its confirmation by the Sacred Congre-gation of Religious. While the recourse is pending, the subject is not dismissed and remains a religious with the same obligations as any other professed of temporary vows. He has the right and obligation of dwelling, under obedience to superiors, in the religious house assigned by them. If the religious does not wish to make recourse but to leave the institute immediately after the. decree is communicated to him, he may do so. Superiors may oblige him to leave immediately only if he has declared in writing that he will not m~ike recourse.7 Otherwise the religious is to remain until the ten days have elapsed without recourse having been 0 Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, 1,329. ¢ Cf. c. 1880, 9°; Coronata, Manuale Practicum luris Discipli~iaris et Criminalis Regularium, n. 248. 274 September, 1957~ DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES made. A subject may als6 make recourse after the lapse of the ten-day period, but such recourse does not suspend the effect of the dismissal, 14. Effects of dismissal (c. 648). Canon 648 frees a professed of temporary vows, as soon as the decree of dismissal is effective, from all the vo~,s of his religious profession. There is no need of a dispensation from the vows. The ~ther effects are the same as explained under secularization in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1956~ 233-36. III. Dismissal. By Decree of a Professed of~ Perpetual Vows (cc. 649,52; 669, .~ li 672, ~ 1) 15. Sufficient reasons. (a) In institutes of men (cc. 649; 656, I°). Three grave and external crimes of the same or different species in the proper sense of canon 2195, § 1, two admonitions, and incorrigibility a~e necessary. A violation of any positive law accompanied l~y special gravity or scandal is also a crime (c. 2222, § 1). The following are examples of sufficient ¯ reasons:' serious sins against common life, external si~s against chastity, disobedience to formal precepts, formal contempt of authority, rebellion against superiors, seriously impeding the government of superiors, creating or fomenting factions in the community, drunkenness, striking companions in religion, seri-ous diffamation of others or 0f the institute, apostasy or flight from religion, as also violations of the vows or of the ~onstitutions that constitute a specially grave offense or give rise to~ grave scandal in or outside the institute. These acts must be seriously sinful objectively and subjectively. Crimes of different species should be such as to reveal, when viewed collectively, a will obstinate in evil (c. 657).s (b) In institutes of women (c. 651, § 1). The same reasons are required for the dismissal of any religious woman of per-petual vows, whether solemn or simple. The reasons must be s Cf. Creusen, Religious Men and Women in the Code, n. 353; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 634, 1, 1°; Tabera, op. cit., 14-1933-267; Beste, Introductio in Codicem, 443,448. 275 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious external, culpable, serious, and joined with incorrigibility. The reasons have to be external to the extent that they are known by others. The code requires culpable but does not certainly demand seriously culpable reasons. Inculpable reasons, e. g., lack of aptitude and physical and intellectual defects do not suffice for the dismissal of a perpetually professed religious. The reasons must be serious or grave. Finally, the reasons must be joined with incorrigibility, i. e., attempts at correction were made and their lack of success proves that there is no hope of amendment. ~The following are general examples of sufficient reasons: violations of the vows, constitutions, and religious dis-cipline that are considered more serious, even though in them-selves they are not mortal sins, or that cause serious scandal in or outside the community; and conduct that causes a notable spiritual or temporal harm to the community. The following are examples of particular sufficient reasons: repeated violations of~the vow of poverty, even after admonitions, reprehensions, penances, and even though the matter in itself does not consti-tute a serious sin; repeated and more serious acts of disobedi-ence; exciting others to rebellion and insubordination; arousing others against superiors by word or conduct; impeding the authority of superiors; disturbing the peace of the community by constant murmuring and complaints; causing dissensions and factions in the community; and the diffamation of the institute or its members among seculars. The reasons given above for men also evidently suffice for the. dismissal of women, since less serious reasons are required for the dismissal of women. Incorrigibility supposes repeated or habitufil actions. There-fore, one violation does not suffice for the dismissal of a per-petually professed religious woman. As in the case of religious men of perpetual vows, there must be at least three violations or one continued violation which, after a double admonition, becomes vi'rtually three violations. These three violations may all be of the same species, e. g., all against poverty; they may be of different species, e. g., one against poverty, the second 276 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES against obedience, and the third contrary to charity. The one continued violation is verified in such things as apostasy from religion, being a fugitive from religion, and a refusal to obey. The apostate who has been admonished twice to return to religion and refuses commits virtually three violations, the original act of apostasy and the two refusals to return (c. 657). 16. Attempts at correction and 'incorrigibility (cc. 649; 656- 62; 651, § i). Everything below on the admonitions and incor-rigibility is of obligation 'from canon law in lay institutes of men. The code does not determine just what' 'the attempts at correction are to consist of in the case 'of religious women but leaves these and the judgment of the incorrigibility to the supeiioress. However, the doctrine that is more probable :in itself and to be followed in practice is that the canons on religious men should be extended to women, i. e., there should be two admonitions coupled with suitable corrections and penances. When these produce no effect, the religious wom£n may be judged in-corrigible. 17. Admonitions (cc. 658-62). (a) Prerequisite certitude of first violation (c. 658). Before the first admonition may be given, there must be certitude, not mere suspicion, probability, or conjecture, of the commission of the first violation. If cer-titude is not had, a further investigation of the conduct of the religious may be. made. If the investigation does not give certitude, an admonition may not be given. (b) Matter of the admonitions (c. 661). The' essentialnotes of an admonition are three: the superior reprehends the religiou~ for the violation already committed; warns him to avoid slich conduct in the future; and adds a threat of dismissal if the religious should persist in such conduct. The thi:eat of dismissal is always to be added to the admonition in the case of a per-petually professed religious man or woman (c. 661,. § 3). 9 Statuta a Sororibus Externis 8er~anda, n. 119; Coronata, lnstltutiones luris Canonici, I, n. 651; Palombo, De Dimissione Religiosorum, n. 179; Tabera, o~. cit., 13-1932-123; Bastien o/,. tit., rt. 639, 3. 277 JOSEPH ~. GALLEN Review for Religious The superior is also to add to the admonitions: 1° an apt exhortation, i. e., to give motives to the religious for the reform of his conduct; 2° an apt correction, i. e., to show the religious the disorder of his past conduct, its effect on himself and .others, on the community and the institute; 3° preventive measures against a future violation. Almost necessarily these will imply putting the religious under the vigilance of a superior. Other such measures that the particular case demands are also to be employed, e. g., changing the employment or house of the religious and, in general, removing and lessening the occasion of a future violation. 4° apt penances. These are to be added to each admonition. Their aptitude is to be judged from their suitability for effecting the amendment of the religious and the reparation of the scandal already given. (c) Number and form of the admonitions (c. 660). There must be two admonitions, one for each of the first two viola-tions. In a continued violation, at least three full days must elapse between the first and second admonition. The admoni-tions are to be given in such a way that there will be proof that ' they were given and received. They are accordingly to be given before two witnesses or in writing.When given before witnesses, it is better to have the admonition also written out, to retain a copy, and have the two witnesses sign this copy to the effect that they witnessed the giving of the admonition. If given in ¯ writing, the religious is always to be made to sign a document to the effect that he received the admonition, a copy of the admonition is always to be retained, and two witnesses are to attest that the copy agrees with the original. If the religious is'outside the institute, e. g., as an apostate or fugitive, the admonition is to be sent to him in writing by certified mail (cf. n. 12). (d) Competent superior for admonitions (c. 659). In institutes of men, the admonitions should be given by the immediate higher superior personally or through another authorized for the purpose. An authorization given for the first admonition 278 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LA~ INSTITUTES suffices also for the second. From analogy, the same principles are to be followed in an institute of women. (e) Interval and violation after the second admonition (c. 662). After the second admonition, there must be a third vio-lation or a refusal to obey the second admonition in the case of a continued violation. An interval of at least six full days is to elap, se between the second admonition and any further action in a continued violation.'° After the third violation or the lapse of the six days without sincere repentance, the religious is canonically incorrigible and may be dismissed. If he sincerely repents within the six days, ¯ he is not incorrigible and may not be dismissed. If such repen-tance is verified only after the third violation or after the six days, action on the dismissal may be continued, since the religious is canonically incorrigible; but it would be better to discontinue such action provisionally, because the religious is not in fact incorrigible,n If the religious later commits another violation, the formalities of dismissal may be continued unless the reforma-tion of thereligious was sincere and complete. Such a reforma-tion excludes the computation or inclusion of past violations and admonitions and requires that the formalities of dismissal be begun anew. A sincere and complete reformation demands that the religious, e. g., have avoided the occasions of violations, have been willing to repair scandal by public penance, and have been more than ordinarily faithful to religious observance. The common doctrine is that such an amendment of conduct should have continued for three years, but a lesser space of time, e. g., a year, will su~ce in the case of extraordinary repentance.12 l°Cf. Tabera, 0p. cit., 14-1933-273; Toso, Commentaria Minora, II, II, 268; Chelodi-Ciprot~i, lus Canonicura de Personis, n. 291; De Carlo, Jus Religiosorum, n. 587. 11Cf. Goyeneche, De Religiosis, 217; De Carlo, oiO. cir., n. 587; Schaefer, oil: clt., n. 1629; Palombo, 0/~. cir., n. 113; Coronata, 0/L cir., 867; Beste, 0/~. cir., 450; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 586. ~2Cf. Goyeneche, op. cir., 217; De Carlo, oiO. cir., n. 587; Schaefer, o/,. cir., n. 1629; Palombo, op. tit., n. 114; Beste, oiO. cit., 450; Jone, o~O. tit., 586; Coropata, op. cit., 864. 279 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious 18. Procedure (cc. 650-52). (a). Intervention of the superior general and his council. In pontifical or diocegan lay institutes of men, canon 650, §§ 1-2, not only require that- the dismissal of a professe~ of perpe~tual vows be submitted to th~ superior gen-eral but also demand a deliberative vote of his council for such a dismissal. Canon law "does not clearly demand the interven-tion of the mother general nor of her council in the dismissal of .a professed of perpetual vows. However, from analogy with the law on the dismissal of religious men of perpetual vows and the constant practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religi-ous in the approval of constitutions, the dismissal of a professed woman of perpetual vows in both pontifical'and diocesan congre-gations is to be referred to the mother general and h'er council and the council is to have a deliberative vote.la For the same reasons, the deliberative vote of the council is required in a monastery of nuns. The remarks on the provincial and his council in n. 2 (a)apply here also. A proviricial should prac-tically never initiate the formalities of dismissal except after having consulted the superior general. The superior general and his council should have the pre-liminary data on the' religious drawn up, as stated in n. 11. To'this document are to be added a description of the three violations, proof of their existence, and proof that the admoni-tions Were properly given and received. As explained in n. 11, the reasons for the dismissal are tg, be fully manifested to the religious; and his replies in writing are to be submitted to the authority competent for dismissal. The matters .to be decided are whether certain proof is had of the three violations, of the giving and reception of the admonitions, and of the incorrigi-bility of the religious. (b) If the decision is for dismissal. 1° In a pontifical congre-gation. The mother general is to transmit all the acts and a:~Cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religlosis, 2-1921-364-66; Ta~era, op. cir., 14-1933-53-54; Schaefer, op. cit., n. 1608; Jone, op. cit., 578; Muzzarelli, Tractatus Canonicus de Congregationibus Iuris Dioecesani, 175; Goyeneche, op. cit., 219; Bastien, op. cir., n. 640. 280 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES documents of the case along with the vote of her council to the Sacred Congregation of Religious (cf. n. 2). In a congregation of brothers, the same things are to be sent to .the Sacred Con-gregation. However, the brother general,, with the deliberative vote of his council, decrees the dismissal; but this has no effect until it is confirmed by the Sacred Congregation (cf. n. 2). A superior who transmits a case to the authority competent for dismissal may include further information from himself or the members of the council in, addition to the latter's vote. 2° In a diocesan congregation, of brothers or sisters. The same things are to be forwarded to the local ordinary (cf. n. 3). The matters to be decided by the ordinar~ are the same as those stated above. He may summon the religious, defer the dis-missal and prescribe further attempts at correction, deny the dismissal, or issue the decree of dismissal. 3° In a monastery of nuns. The superioress is to transmit the same things to the local ordinary and the regular superior (cf. n. 5). 19. Dismissal. The religious is dismissed only at the moment that he or she receives legitimate notification of the decree of dismissal or of the confirmation of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in the case of religious men.~ Before that time he may neither leave the institute nor may the institute eject him. He is then to leave the institute, unless he is a member of a diocesan congregation, as will be immediately explained. 20. Recourse. (a) In any pontifical lay institute of men or women. The religious may recur io the Holy See against the decree of dismissal, but this recourse does not suspend the effect of the dismissal. The code gives no such right, and the Holy See has both examined ihe reasons of the religious against the dismissal and has itself effected or confirmed the dismissal. (b) In any diocesan congregation of men or women. The code says nothing on the right of the religious to recur to the Holy See against a dismissal effected by the local ordinary. a4 Palombo, op. cit., nn. 144, 187; O'Leary, Rdi.oious Dismissed after Perpetual Profession, 47-50. 281 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious However, it is admitted that the religious has the right of recur-ring. to the Sacred Congregation of Religious against the decree; and, if made within ten days from the date on which the religi-ous was informed of the decree, this recourse suspends the effect of the dismissal. This right to a suspensive recourse follows a fortiori from the fact that such a right is granted to a religious of temporary vows dismissed by the local ordinary (c. 647, ~ i, 4°). Therefore, everything said in n. 13 under ¯ the dismissal of a professed of temporary vows applies here also. 21'. Effects of dismissal (cc. 669, § 1; 672, § 1). (a) If dis-missal frees from the vows. The code itself (c. 669, § 1 ) does not free a dismissed religious of perpetual vows from the vows of religious profession by the very fact of the dismissal. Such a liberation may be effected by a provision of the particular constitutions, or the Holy See may append a dispensation to the dismissal, or the dismissed religious may petition the Sacred Congregation of Religious in the case of pontifical institutes or the local ordinary in that of diocesan institutes for a dispen-sation. 1~ The religious is to be most earnestly encouraged to make such a petition, and the superiors are willingly to aid him. Constitutions of lay congregations submitted to Rome in the earlier years after the Code of Canon Law became effective, May 19, 1918, uniformly do not provide that legitimate dismis-sal of a perpetually professed religious frees from the vows; tho~e submitted in more recent years frequently contain this provision. The latter practice should be followed in any revis-ion of pontifical or diocesan constitutions. Ill such a provision is contained in the constitutions, the dismissal frees from all the vows of religious profession as soon as the decree is effective. There is no need of a dispensation from the vows. The other effects are the same as explained under secularization in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1956, 233-36. (b) If the dismissal does not free from the vows (c. 672, § 1). Canon 672, § 1, prescribes that a religious of perpetual is Cf. Muzzarelli, o~. cir., 306. 282 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES vows who has been dismissed without being freed of his vows is obliged to reform his.life so that he will be worthy .of being received back into the institute. If the dismissed religious has manifested a complete reform during a period of three years, he is obliged to return to the institute and the la'tter~ is obliged to take him back. Howe.ver, it is the far more probable interpre-tation that this canon applies only to a religious in sacred orders (priest, deacon, subdeacon).'6 If the dismissed lay religious will not voluntarily petition a dispensation from the vows, the practical remedy is to submit the case immediately to the Sacred Congregation of Religious. A professed of~ perpetual vows is also to be given an official statement to the effect that he had been l~gitimately .dismissed, and mention should b~ made as to whether he had been freed of the vows by the dismissal or a concomitant or subsequent dispensation. IV. Dismissal By Law (c. 646) 22. Definition. This dismissal is effected automatically by canon 646 itself by the very fact and at the instant that any of the three crimes specified in the canon is committed. Therefore, the law itself, not the decree or declaration of a superior, effects the dismissal. In its nature, the dismissal is a punishment in-flicted for the crime and also a means given to religious, insti-tutes to free themselves immediately of members who have perpetrated most serious crimes against the religious life. 23. Subject. The subject of the il~so facto or dismissal by law of canon 646 is any professed religious, man or woman, of solemn or any type of simple vows, whether perpetual or tem-porary, and the members who have been aggregated perpetually or temporarily in societies living in common without public vows (c. 681). A postulant or novice is not the subject, but the commission of any of these three crimes is certainly more 'than a sufficient reason for his dismissal by the decision of the competent superior. ~6 Cf. Fanfani, De lure Religiosorum, 703-705. 283 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious 24. "Religious who have publicly apostatized from the Catholic faith" (c. 646, § 1, 1°). The crime is simply public apostasy from the Catholic faith. (a) Simply. The canon does not demand that the religi-ous have joined a non-Christian sect, e. g., Judaism, Buddhism, Mohammedanism. The crime can be" verified either in or out of such a sect. "(b) Public (c. 2197, 1°). In the case of a religious, a crime is public when it is actually known or is in serious and immediate danger of being known by at least a notable part of the mem-bers of the religious house to which the delinquent is attached.1~ It is not necessary that such knowledge or danger extend.to the province, institute, or to externs. External apostasy that has not attained this publicity does not effect dismissal by law. (c) Apostasy from the Catholic faith (c. 1325, ~ 2). Apos-tasy is the act of a baptized person who formally" denies or positively doubts about the entire Christian-faith. The unbap-tized are infidels, not apostates, heretics, or schismatics. Formally means that there must be a subjective mortal sin in the act. A doubt is the suspension of the acceptance of the intellect. A positive doubt is had when the intellect judges that there are sufficient reasons for affirming and denying the proposition, that the reasons on neither side are convincing, and therefore the intellect suspends assent to the proposition. In a negative doubt, the intellect suspends assent because it does not p~rceive reasons either for affirming or 'denying the proposition. This is to be classed rather as ignorance. As in heresy, /~ positive doubt constitutes an injury to the faith and is sufficient four apostasy.18 The one who so doubts has had the truth suffi-ciently proposed to him, but he positively judges that the truth is not sufficiently proposed and that contrary reasons make it uncertain. ~ Cf. Michiels, De Delictis et Pornis, 117-18. ~8 Ciprotti, De Consummatione Delictorum, 15; Coronata, o,O. cir., IV, n. 1856. 284 Septe,~be~', 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES Apostasy is a denial or positive doubt concerning the entire Christian faith, e. g., the existence of God, the fact or possibility of the Christian revelation, the fact or possibility of the supernatural order. Apostasy is therefore distinguished from heresy or schism. A heretic is a baptized person who formally denies or positively doubts about one or some dogmas of faith. A schismatic is a baptized person who formally refuses to submit to the spiritual authority of the Roman Pontiff or to communicate with the other members of the Church (c. 1325, ~ 2). Canon 646 mentions only apostasy and thus inflicts dis-missal by law only on apostates, not on heretics or schismatics. (d) Excommunication (c. 2314). An apostate incurs by the very fact of the apostasy an excommunication reserved in a special manner to the Holy See. An excommunication demands merely that the act be external and not that it be public. 25. "A religious man who h~as run away with a woman or a religious woman who has run away with a man" (c. 646, ~ I, 2°). The crime will be explained with a religious man as the subject. Four notes are required to constitute this crime. The last three are only probably required in theory but are certainly necessary in fact to effect the dismissaI (cc. 15, 19). (a) The religious man must be united physically or morally in flight from one place to another with a woman. It is not required that the r.eligious be an apostate or fugitive from religion in the canonical sense of canon 644J" Flight in canon 646 has the common and ordinary sense of running away with a woman. The crime, is completed as soon as this notion is verified, without any consideration whatever of the length of absence from the religious house. The intention of returning or not returning, of contracting or not contracting marriage has nothing to do with the crime. Both must flee, since the canon demands that the religious man have run away with a woman. This is verified physically if both start out from the religious house; it is verified morally. 19 Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1957, 155-64. 285 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for "Religious if the religious alone flees in virtue of a previous agreement to meet the woman. The moral union is caused l~y the previous agreement; if such an agreement does not exist, there is no flight. In a doubt, this agreement is'to be presumed if.there was an illicit attachmehr or familiarity beforehand and union shortly after the departure of the religious; otherwise the agree-ment must be proved. The dismissal is effected at the begin-ning. of the flight. The flight described above is always neces, sary. Without such flight, neither concubinage nor the illicit leaving of the. house to sin with a woman, even though done frequently and furtively, constitutes the crime. When tlqe flight of this canon is difficult to prove, as is often true, an investiga-tion is to be made as to the existence of a marriage ceremony. It is rare in such cases that the woman does not insist on some form of marriage ceremony. (b) Probably the motive of the ,flight must be the satisfaction of lust. The iaecessity of such a motive is implicit in the text of the law and is part of the common notion of running away with a woman. Ordinarily this motive is to be presumed as soon as the other notes are verified.2° (c) Probably the woman must have attained puberty and not be a relative by blood or marriage in the direct line (mother, grandmother, etc.) or in the first degree .o~ the collateral line (sister) of the religious man. Puberty in a girl is attained can-onically on the day after the twelfth birthday, in a boy on the day after the fourteenth birthday (c. 88, § 2). The correspond-ing relatives will apply in the case of a religious woman, i. e., father, grandfather, brother. The necessity of this note is founded on the extrinsic authority of several authors. It has little foundation in the text of the law. The sense of the law is rather that the lustful motive is presumed not to exist with such persons but, if proved, the crime exists. Otherwise, the state of the woman is indifl:erent. It is of no import that she z°Cf. Tabera, Ol~. cir., 11-1930-416; Goyeneche, oil. cir., 209; Vermeersch, Periodica, 19-1930.122". 286 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES is married, unmarried, capable or incapable of contracting marriage validly;. (d) Probably proof must exist of the preceding, requisites. The probability of this doctrine arises from the fact that the other two crimes of canon 646, public apostasy and marriage, are of their nature capable of proof and from the extrinsic authority of some authors. If the religious has verified the other notes but the crime is so secret that this fourth note is not verified, he is not dismissed by law."~l Any proof that gives moral certi-tude suffices, e. g., the testimony of reliable witnesses. (e) Excommunication (c. 2385). Obviously the flight described above will usually also imply apostasy from religion if the religi-ous has perpetual vows and thus the incurring i/)so fdcto of an excommunication reserved to the ordinary.-~" 26. "A religious who attempts or contracts marriage, even the so-called civil marriage" (c. 646, § 1, 3°). The crime is the contracting (validly) or the attempting (invalidly) of marriage by any type of Catholic, non-Catholic, or civil ceremony pro-vided both parties gave a naturally valid consent. The form of celebration of a civil marriage must be valid according to the civil law of the place of celebration. A solemn vow of chastity renders marriage invalid; a simple vow forbids but does not invalidate marriage. The crime presupposes a marriage consent valid" from the natural law and is not verified if the consent is vitiated in either party by an essential defect, e. g., ignorance, simulation, physical violence, grave fear. However, it is to be presumed that true consent was given; and this pre-sumption is sufficient to declare the religious~dismissed. In itself, the invalidity of the marriage does not exclude the crime, i. e., the crime is still verified if the marriage is invalid because it was attempted outside the Church or because of a diriment impedi-ment. ~lGoyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, II, 153; Schaefer, op. cir., n. 1578; Bas-tien, op. cir., 446, note 2; Jone, o~0. tit., 572; Jombart, RevUe des Communautets Religieuses, 6-1930-148. 22 Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1957, 158. 287 JOSEPH ~. GALLEN Review for Religious Excommunications (cc. 2388; 2319, § 1, I°~; 2385). By presum-ing to attempt marriage, both a solemnly professed religious and the other party incur an excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See (c. 2388, §.1); if the vows of the religious are simple but perpetual, the presuming to contract or attempt marriage is punished in both parties by an excommunication reserved to the ordinary (c. 2388, § 2). If the marriage is attempted before a non-Catholic minister, the punishment of a Catholic is an excommunication reserved to the ordinary (c. 2319, § 1, 1°). A marriage ceremony implies an intention never to return to the institute and thus results in an excommunication for apostasy from religion reserved to the ordinary in the case of a religious of perpetual vows (c. 2385). A civil ceremony is not punished by the code, but in some dioceses of the United States it is punished by an excommunication reserved to the o~dinary and in some others it constitutes a reserved sin. 27. Effects (c. 646, ~ 1). Upon the commission of any of the three crimes, the religious is immediately an.d i~pso facto dis-missed, by canon 646. This dismissal by law is a legitimate dis-missal and produces all the effects of the ordinary dismissal by decree. Therefore, in the case of a professed of temporary vows, the effects are ~he same as those described in n. 14; if the religious is. of p.erpetual vows, the effects are those of the'ordinary dismissal exp!ain~d in n. 21. 28. Declaration of fact (c. 646, ~ 2). This canon commands the higher superior with the consultive vote of his council to make a declaration of fact concerning the crime. Some con-stitutions restrict this right to the superior general, and some also demand a deliberative vote of the council. In monasteries of nuns, the declaration is to be made by the superioress of the monastery with the consultive or deliberative vote of the council or chapter as commanded by the constitutions. The declaration of fact is merely a description of the pertinent points of the case, the headings of the proof, e. g., a copy of the marriage record, statement of witnesses, etc., and the conclu- 288 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES sion that the religious ~was dismissed in virtue of canon 646. The local superior is ordinarily in the best position to secure these proofs, e. g., the statements of witnesses. Frequently a trustworthy man such as a lawyer or priest should be deputed to secure some of the proofs in the case of an institute of women, e. g., the copy of the marriage record. The declara-tion and proofs are to be retained in the secret files of the house of the higher superior who made the declaration. The pur-pose of the declaration is to possess proof of the automatic dismissal and to prevent future doubts and difficulties, particu-larly for the eventuality of a recourse by the subject to the local ordinary or the Holy See. V. Provisional Sending Back to Secular Life (c. 653) 29. Subject. The subject of thi~ provisional return is any pro-fessed religious, man or woman, and any aggregated member of a society living in common (c. 681). Canon 653 speaks explicitly only of the perpetually professed; but afortiori, from afialogy of law, the common opinion of authors, and the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions, the same canon applies to the professed of only temporary vows and to the aggregated members whose bond with the society is only tem-porary. 30. Reasons required. The reason must be either of the fol-lowing: (a) Grave external scandal. This is a culpable defamatory act, committed within or outside the religious house, which is well known outside the house or known only to a few externs, who, however, will not keep the matter a secret, e. g., a sin against good morals. (b) Very serious imminent injury to the community. This is an extraordinary injury or harm certainly and proximately threatening at least reductively, not merely one or some individ-uals but the religious house, province, or institute. The religious must be the cause of this harm but it is not certain that he 289 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for" Religious must be a culpable cause. Examples of this reason are the proximate judicial accusation of a defamatory crime in either the moral or political order; sexual actions with students in an institute devoted to education when it is foreseen that these wil][ become public and bring infamy on the house, province, or institute; a serious threat to set the house on fire or against the life of a superior or another member of the institute; and a serious loss of temporal property of the house, province or institute. (c) Three conditions required in both cases. Since such an extraordinary action should not be taken against a religious because of mere probability, conjecture, or suspicion, the ex-istence of the cause must be certain; it must also be impossible to avoid the scandal or harm in other ways, e. g., by transferring the religious to another house; and there must be at least prob-ability that the scandal or harm can be averted or appreciably diminished by the provisional return to secular life. 31. Competent authority. (a) Ordinarily. Canon 653 gives the right for such action in lay institutes to the higher superior with the consent of his council. The right is therefore given by the ~ode also to provincials, even though the constitutions may affirm it only of the superior general. In prudence and if possible, the provincial should refer the case to the superior general or at least consult the latter. In a monastery of nuns, "the competent authority is the superioress with the consent of her council. (b) In a more urgent case. In a case in which the time re-quired for recourse to the superior general or provincial would imperil the avoidance of the scandal or injury, the competent authority is the local superior with the consent of his council and also the consent of the local ordinary. If it is impossible to have recourse to the local ordinary and the case will not admit _.3 Berutti, De Religiosis, 349; Bouscaren-Ellis, Canon La~w, 319. 290 September, 1957 DISMISSAL IN LAY INSTITUTES o~. delay, it is.safely probable that this action may be taken by the local superior with only the consent of his council.'~4 32. Final adjudication of the case. (a) Report. A report of the case should always be made out without delay and submitted to the authority competent for a final decision of the matter. The report is to contain the religious and family name of the subject, date, age, date of entrance, date of temporary or perpetual profession, house to which he was assigned at the time of the return to secular life, cause of this return, proofs and present state of this cause, a brief record of the past of the religious insofar as it is pertinent to the cause 6f his return and dismissal, the name and rank of the superior who effected the return, the fact that the consent of the council and of the local ordinary, when prescribed, was obtained; and, if the latter was not secured, the report is to state the reasons that'justified its omission. (b) Authority competent for a final decision. Canbn 653 states that the case is to be referred to the Holy See without delay. This canon, however, is to be interpreted in the light of the other canons on the competent authority for dismissal; and it is admitted doctrine that the authority competent for an ordinary dismissal by decree is competent also for the final decision in the case of a provisional return to secular life.~'~ Therefore, the case is to be referred, according to the nature of the institute and the vows of the subject, to the authority competent for dismissal by decree stated in nn. 2-5. 33. Effects. As soon as the provisional return is decided, the re-ligious puts off the religious habit and leaves the institute. The return to secular life is a provisional measure. It is not a dismissal and does not produce the effects of a dismissal. The competent authority mentioned above decides for or against dismissal and 24Cf. Tabera, 0p. tit., 14-1933-58; Goyeneche, De Religiosis, 221, note 31; Palombo, op. cir., n. 192; Schaefer, 0iL cir., n. 1609; O'Neill, The Dismissal of Religious in Temporary l/o~vs, 104. 25Cf. O'Neill, op. cir., 103-104; Schaefer, op. cir., n. 1636; Wernz-Vidal De Religiosis, 490, note 13; Bastien, o~0. cir., n. 645, 4; Palombo, op. cir., n. 195; Tabera, op. cir., 14-1933-57; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome luris Canonicl, I, n. 807. 291 JOSEPH F. GALLEN decrees the dismissal in the t~ormer case. The charitable subsidy is to be given to a religious woman who is provi~ionally sent back to secular lithe.2° SOME BOOKS RECEIVED [Only books sent directly to the Book Review Editor, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] The 1957 National Catholic Almanac. Edited by Felician A. Foy, O.F.M. St. Anthony's Guild, Paterson, New Jersey. $2.00 (paper cover). Does God Exist? By Alfred M. Mazzei. Translated by Daisy Corinne Fornacca. Society of St. Paul, New York, N.Y. $3.50. St. Bernadette Speaks. By Albert Bessi~res, S.J. Translated by The Earl of Wicklow. Clonmore & Reynolds Ltd., 29 Kildare St., Dub-lin. 10/6. Queen of Heaven. By Ren~ Laurentin. Translated by Gordon Smith. Clonmore & Reynolds Ltd., 29 Kildare St., Dublin, 12/6. Le Ciel ou l'Enfer. II. l'Enfer. By Chanoine G. Panneton. Beau-chesne et ses Fils, Rue de Rennes, Paris. Methods of Prayer in the Directory of the Carmelite Reform of Touraine. By Kilian J, Healy, O. Carm. Institutum Carmelitanum, Via Sforza Pallavicini, 10, Rome. Some Philosophers on Education. Edited by Donald A. Gallagher. Marquette University Press, 1131 Wisconsin Ave., Milwaukee 3, Wis-consin. $2.50 (paper cover). Wellsprings of the Faith. By Most Reverend John C. McQuaid, D.D. Clonmore & Reynolds Ltd., 29 Kildare St., Dublin. 18/-. The Reluctant Abbess. By Margaret Trouncer. Sheed and Ward, 840 Broadway, New York 3, New York. $3.75. Quadalupe to Lourdes. "By Frances Parkinson Keyes. Catechetical Guild Educational Society, St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $0.50 (paper cover). The Mystery of My Future. By Jean De Larhove. Society of St. Paul, 2187 Victory Blvd., Staten Island 14, New York. $2.50. Of the Imitation of Christ. By Thomas a Kempis. Translated by Abbot Justin McCahn. The New American Library of World Literature, Inc., 501 Madison Ave., New York 22, New York. $0:50 (paper cover). The Caiholic Booklist 1957. Edited by Sister Mary Luella, O.P. Rosary College, River Forest, Illinois. $0.75 (paper cover). ¯ _,6 Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOt;S, September, 1956, 235-36. 292 Our Supernat:ural Organism Daniel J./~. Callahan, $.J. GOD IS THE author of all things. The more science ad-vances, the more does it disclose the wonders of His crea-tion. Even a superficial reading of a manual of biology or physics or chemistry or astronomy wrings from us the words of the Psalmist: "How great are thy works, O Lord. Thou hast made all things in wisdom; the earth is filled with thy riches" (Ps. 103:24 ). These divine masterpieces, especially as mani-fested in man, qualify us by analogy for the marvels of the supernatura! order. God gives life in the embryonic state and with it an or-ganism capable of developing the tiny creature into the pleni-tude of its specific perfection. The fundamental natural prin-ciple of this evolution is the vital principle within it, which energizes it and is the source of its least activity. Its separation from the bodily element would mean the termination of growth, deterioration, death. In us the human soul is the basic source of our natural life; its faculties or powers are the immediate cause of our vital activities and these in turn bring to perfec-tion our human life. To all this the supernatural is closely analogous as will appear from a brief study of the components of its organism. Sanctifying Grace Appropriately this may be styled the soul of the higher life in us. Only from divine revelation do we know its exis-tence and nature, and it will be useful to recall here what rev-elation tells us about this precious endowment. It is something most real; a spiritual quality inherent in our soul and of such an excellence'that only God could be its principal cause; it is a stable quality, an adornment abiding in the soul till forfeited through mortal sin; it is a totally free gift to which no one of us could lay claim and which transforms us into God:like 293 DANIEL J. M. (~ALLAHAN Review for Religious beings resembling our eternal Father and enabling us to share, in a finite manner, in His life. That life comprises the infinite contemplation;, love, and possession of His uncreated perfec-tion. To this no creature by its native powers could aspire. By a privilege entirely gratuitous God destines us for the immediate visiofi of Himself in heaven and adapts us ~or it through sanctifying grace. Attended by faith; hope, and charity such grace equips us to know, love, possess God, imperfectly, of course," as He knows, loves, and possesses Himself; and thus we enter into the divine life and become truly His children. And while this life is distinct from our natural life, it is not merely superimposed on the latter: it penetrates it through and through, elevating and transforming it. Leaving intact all the natural goodness that is ours, sanctifying grace imparts a new orientation to everything within us, establishes new relations to the Blessed Trinity, and inaugurates on earth the life of the blessed. To aid us in the apprehension of this prerogative, writers resort to many comparisons and illustrations. They liken the soul to a living image of the adorable Trinity., divinely impressed on the soul as the seal leaves its image on the wax, lavishing on it an entrancing beauty since the prototype and the artist is no other than God. Again such a soul is compared to a trans-parent body receiving the sun's rays and, all aglow" itself, radiating them in all directions; to a bar of steel plunged into a furnace and sharing the heat, brightness, and pliancy of the fire; to a branch engrafted into a plant, maintaining its identity while partaking of the life of the plant; to the union in us of soul and body where the soul quickens and energizes the body even as grace communicates a new life and effects our most intimate union with God. Finally, an analogy with the hypo-static union in Christ is introduced; and, though the soul's union with God is only accidental, yet it is the union of a substance with a substance; and, while the hypostatic union results in the God-man, the union through grace issues in a God-like being, 294 September, 1957 OUR SUPERNATURAL ORGANISM whose actions are performed at once by the Creator and His creature, even as in Christ His actions were shared in by both His divine and human nature. And though our union with God is neither hypostatic nor substantial in the proper sense, for we always retain our personality and the union is only accidental, it is not merely the intimacy of two friends, for it rests on a/physical quality abiding in the soul and on physical bonds intensifying and safeguarding that union. The three Divine Persons are immediately presefit to the soul in a com-pletely new way and are possessed and enjoyed by it. Though the precise nature of this extraordinary inhabitation continues to exercise theologians, we are assured that it is capable of indefinite expansion up to the last breath of life here below, and this in p.roportion to our surrender to the Holy Spirit through the removal of all barriers and the cultivation of the infused virtues and the gifts of the Holy Ghost. The Infused Virtues In the natural order our soul functions through its faculties or powers. It thinks through the intellect; .it loves through the will; it senses through our different senses. These faculties bestowed on us together with the soul, by means of their varied activities, are susceptible of tremendous development. In the supernatural order grace parallels the soul, and the infused virtues are its chief faculties. These emanate from sanctifying grace, elevate our mind and will, enable us to perform supernatural, meritorious deeds. Virtue may be described as a good habit designed for action. It is natural if it has been acquired through the repeti-tion of the same specific act and communicates facility in doing so; if directly granted by God and if it confers the ability to do something, it is called infused. The natural virtues facilitate nat-ural righte6usness; the infused confer the power to act on a superhuman level. These latter are usually divided into theologi-cal and moral. The former have God for their formal and principal material object; in the concrete they are faith, hope, and charity and unite the soul directly to God. The moral 295 DANIEL J. M. CALLAHAN Review for Religious virtues have for their objective some moral good distinct from God, serve to eliminate the hindrances to divine union and to stabilize it, and are commonly listed under the four cardinal vi£tues. The theological virtues certainly accompany sanctifying grace and integrate the process of justification, and it is the generally accepted doctrine that the moral virtues also are then bestowed. ¯ All of these virtues are susceptible of increment and 'do increase proportionally with the increase of grace, just as the branches of the tree ke~p pace with the expansion of the trunk. Apart from the complete loss of the virtue, may they diminish? In general, any activity that is discontinued or exercised bnly rarely tends to decline or even to cease. Venial sins, especially when frequent and deliberate, considerably impede the practice of virtue and thus diminish the facility previously attained. Neglect of actual graces may likewise occ~lsion the privation of such helps as notably conduce to acts of virtue and add vigor and polish to them. And though venial sins do not directly decrease or destroy the infused virtues, it remains true that such failings open the way for serious lapses and the destruction of th.e virtues. Do all grave sins deprive us of these? Faith is destroyed only through a mortal sin of infidelity, hope through the same and that of despair; charity and the infused moral virtues, through any mortal sin. Relative to the duration ot~ all such virtues, in the lost none of them persists; the theological remain in the souls in purgatory; in heaven there will be neither acts of faith nor of hope relative to God, and most probably not relative to objects distinct from Him. And whereas neither the moral virtues nor those of faith and hope will endure in the blessed, these will retain the virtue of charity and live a life of the purest actual love. The Gifts of the Holy Spirit There is unanimity among Catholic theologians about the existence of such gifts, but their specific nature is widely contro-verted. In accordance with the doctrine of St. Thomas (Summa, 296 September, ~957 OUR SUPERNATURAL ORGANISM I-II, q. 68, a. 3), the most prevalent opinion is that they are supernatural habits, distinct from the virtues, implanted in the soul conjointly with sanctifying grace, which impart a recep-tiveness, a docility to the impulse of the Holy Spirit, a more prompt and more generous cooperation with His grace. They would appear to be, at least in the early stages, not operative habits like the virtues, but rather dispositive, adjusting the soul for a better reaction to the divine intervention. Their func-tion, then, is that 0f perfecting the exercise of the virtues. There is no certainty about their number; and, while conferred simultaneously with grace, a more copious outpouring may be the fruit of the sacrament of confirmation. The docility issu-ing from these' gifts improves perceptibly through prayer for fidelity to grace, through a life of faith and recollection, through the cultivation of the moral virtues and due control over our passions, for unless these latter are consistently mortified, the inordinate attachments in the soul will hamper us in discerning, accepting, and responding to the inspirations of grace. We must combat the spirit of the world which is diametrically op-posed to the divine and school ourselves in prompt, magnani-mous compliance with God's will. The more complete our surrender' to Him, the more will He be pleased to enlighten and inflame us. Actual Grace just as in the natural order we cannot bring power into motion without the concurrence of the Almighty, so also in the supernatural. Such cooperation is known as actual grace to distinguish it from habitual grace previously considered. It is a transitory aid imparted by God, consisting in the illumina-tion of the mind and the urge of the will for the performance of a supernatural act. It sets the intellect and heart in motion and enables them to function on a superhuman level. In the concrete, it is a holy thought, a salutary incitement of the will, produced by God who directly influences our rational faculties, stimulating them to operate, and cooperating with them to 297 DANIEL J. M. CALLAHAN Review for Religious elicit a good thought and a salutary desire in keeping with the special need of the moment. The thought is most real and comes directly'from God; it is a holy thought, designed for the spiritual benefit of the individual. When we say "salutary desire," we understand any good act of the will, for instance, the love of good, hatred of evil, fear of divine punishment, sorrow for sin, joy 'in well-doing. It is a real act of the will. Antecedent to our activity God lovingly takes the initiative and continues to act within us and with. us for the accomplishment of a deed that will conduce to life eternal. This assistance is not permanent; it persists only while its purpose lasts; and it influences us in a moral way through attraction and persuasion and physically by adding energy to our intellectual faculties too weak to act of themselves. As religious we are to be profoundly penetrated with the conviction of our need of such divine assistance. It is necessary for the achievement of every supernatural act: for the prelim-inary acts of faith, hope, sorrow requisite for the remission of sin. The constant endeavor to resist temptations which assail even the just, as well as our steadfastness in good living, are the fruits of actual grace. Obviously, then, we have not the power to persevere in religion and even to reach perfection through our unaided strength. Christ's memorable words, "Without Me you can do nothing" (Jn. 15:6), are pertinent to the natural and supernatural levels. Everyone who attains the use of reason needs this grace and all such receive it. It proceeds from the love of God; the ordinary channels for its dispensation are the sacraments, prayer, and'our meritorious deeds; and the more generous our cooperation with grace received the more will be granted, for here, as in the entire economy of salvation, God takes the initiative, awaits our free reaction, and assures us that He will" bestow th~ necessary help for the completion of our project. Conformity to the divine will, consequent peace of soul, trust, and magnanimity are supremely important in the struggle for real sanctity. 298 September, 1957 OUR SUPERNATURAL ORGANISM Appreciation "If thou didst know the gift of God" (Jn. 4:19) spoke Jesus to the Samaritan woman, referring to the supernatural life which He communicates to us through His vivifying action, here compared to water springing from an unfailing source. Religious have totally consecrated themselves to God; to Him they belong entirely; and there must be in them the life that is His. In them the supernatural must always be dominant. It is a treasure to be courageously safeguarded even at the cost of sacrifice; it is an endowment to be zealously augmented; it is a life and life is essentially progressive. Cessation of growth soon induces recession. In the wake of tepidity and lethargy spiritual death follows closely. The law of spiritual gravity is to be counteracted through p.urity of intention at all times, through earnestness even in small affairs, through fervent, per-severing prayer, and through the frequent reception of the sacraments of penance and Holy Communion. "Walk in a manner worthy of the calling with whic'h you are called," wrote 'St. Paul to the Ephesians (4:1 ff.), "with all humility and meek-ness, with patience bearing with one another in love, careful to preserve the unity of the. spirit iri the bond of peace; one body and one 'Spirit . . . one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all who is above all and .throughout all and in all." Surely a relevant injunction for all religious. OUR CONTRIBUTORS BONAVENTURE BALSAM is engaged in parish work at St. Anthony's Priory, 4640 Canal Street, New Orleans, Louisiana. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock Col-lege, Woodstock, Maryland. DANIEL J. M. CALLAHAN is profes-sor of ascetical and mystical theology at Woodstock College, Wood-stock, Maryland. 299 Survey ot: Roman Documen!:s R. ~. Smil:h, S.J. IN THIS survey only those documents will be considered which appeared in the ./Iota/lpostolicae Sedis (AAS) during the months of April and May, 1957. Hence all page references throughout the survey are to AAS of 1957 (v. 49). The African Missions On Easter Sunday, April 21, 1957 (AAS, pp. 225-48),. the Holy Father issued a new encyclical letter which is entitled Fidei Donum (TheGift of Faith) and which treats of Africa and its missions. After noting that man'.s gratitude for the gift of faith is best shown by spreading the light of Christ's truth, His Holi-ness remarks that while he is not unaware of the grave and pressing problems attending the spread of the Faith in all parts of the world, yet special attention is needed in the case of Africa, for this continent now finds itself on the threshold of its political and cultural maturity and faced with circumstances the import-ance of which is rivaled by nothing in the previous history of /~frica'. The Vicar of Christ then begins the first of the four sections into which the encyclical letter is divided. This first section is devoted to an over-all picture of the missionary scene in Africa. Most of the countries of the continent, the Pope says, are in the midst of profound social, economic, and political changes which will have a lasting effect on the fut.ure lives of these nations. The Church which has seen the rise and growth of so many nations cannot but be intensely interested in the peoples of Africa who are now attaining their civil rights. It is at this point that the Holy Father exhorts the coloniz-ing nations to grant civil rights to peoples who are prepared for them; and at the same time he urges the colonial peoples of 300 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Africa to be grateful .for .~vhat they have received from the vari-ous countries of Europe. Only such a harmonious attitude will exclude prejudice and exaggerated nationalism and will permit the peoples of Africa to experience the entire range of benefits which flow from the religion of Christ. Pius XII is especially concerned that in many countries of Africa atheistic materialism has been spreading the seed of its doctrine, thereby arousing jealousy between nations, inducing false perspectives in the matter of temporal prosperity, and excit-ing to rebellion. The presence of this atheistic materialism in Africa, thinks the Pontiff, is particularly grave owing to the fact that the peoples of Africa, because they wish to accomplish in a few years what ~he peoples of Europe took centuries to achieve, are psychologically vulnerable to the specious .promises which materialism offers. The H01y Father continues by remarking that of all the missionary regions of the world, Africa is the one with the greatest needs. African mission posts which have been estab-lished in the last ten or twenty years cannot expect a sufficient number of native clergy for a long time, while the missionaries in such stations are few and widely scattered throughout large regions where, moreover, non-Catholic religions are also spread-ing their doctrines. The gravity of the situation can be illustrated by one region of Africa where there are 2,000,000 inhabitants but only 50 priests whose energies, moreover, are completely absorbed in the care of the 60,000 persons already converted to Catholicism. Twenty more missionaries in such regions at the present time would mean, the Vicar of Christ sadly comments, the spreading of the banner of the cross in places which twenty years from now will be impossible of access. Moreover, twenty more missionaries would mean that the Church could educate in such regions a corps of African Catholics equipped to meet the social and political needs of the continent. Nor are difficulties lacking in African missionary centers which have long been established. Such centers too feel the 301 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious extreme lack of missionaries. Moreover, the bishops and vicars apostolic of Africa are obliged to provide for their flocks a full Catholic life; and this necessitates in turn schools, colleges, social institutes, all the modern communication arts. Such needs can be met only by a great flow of material and apostolic help to the continent of Africa where 85,000,000 human beings are still attached to the practice of paganism. The Holy Father centers the second part of his encyclical around the theme that the problems of the Church in Africa are not merely local difficulties, but are of vital concern to the entire Mystical Body. Bishops, those preeminent members of the Mystical Body, should have a special concern for the Church in Africa, for they as the legitimate successors of the apostles retain the duty of preaching to all nations. Moreover, continues the Holy Father, there ig not a Catholic in the world who should not be interested in the problems of the Church in Africa. Nothing that is characteristic of the Church should be absent from the mental outlook of the individual Catholic. If then catholicity or universality is one of the characteristics of that Church which is the mother of all nations, breadth of outlook must also mark the individual Catholic. In the third part of the encyclical the Holy Father dis-cusses the means by which Catholics can aid the missions of Africa. ~The first means is that of continual and earnest prayer. The best prayer, of course, will be that which Chris~, our High Priest, daily offers on our altars. And while the faith-ful should be instructed that it is good to offer Mass for their private intentions, still they should also be taught to give atten-tion to those petitions with which the Mass is primarily and neces-sarily concerned and "which include the we~Ifare and propaga-tion of the entire Church. To prayer must be added alms or material help, for present needs far exceed the help now being given. The faithful in other parts of the world should compare their conditions with the 302 September', 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS situations of missionary countries and see who are the real need~i of the Church. Hence the Vicar of Christ urges that each Catholic make an examination of conscience to consider if there is not something tl~at can be given up in order that material aid might be given to the missions. The third way of helping Africa is through the fostering of vocations to missionary work.~ Bishops should train their flocks in such a way that there will always be members of that flock ready to heed the Lord's command i~ Genesis 12:1 to leave one's land and the house of one's father. Dioceses with a suffi-ciency of priests should give of their workers to the missions; and even dioceses which themselves suffer from a scarcity of priestly workers can still offer their mite as did the widow in the gospel story. The problem of missionary recruitment, however, can be met only by the ~oncerted work of all the bishops who should encourage the Missionary Union of the Clergy, foster the work of pontifical missionary associations, and be aware of the needs of those religious institutes which do missionary work but which cannot increase the number of their vocations without th~ under-standing assistance of the local ordinary. Finally, the Holy Father approves the practice of a diocese lending some of its priests to missions for a limited time. The fourth part' of the encyclical consists of a brief conclu-sion in which the Holy Father repeats that he is as interested in all the missions as he is in those of Africa. To all missionaries of the entire world he extends his gratitude and his congratula-tions and exhorts them to labor fervently in the work to which they have been called. Lenten and Easter Messages On March 5, 1957 (AAS, pp. 208,15), the Holy Father gave his usual Lenten allocution to the parish priests and Lenten preachers of Rome. The present year, begins the Holy Father, marks the fifth anniversary ot: the inauguration of the movement 303 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious "Fora Better World." After detailing the work accomplished in the diocese of Rome during that period and after noting the things yet to be done, His Holiness then urges his listeners to sow the seed that is the word of God. To preach anything but the word of God, he warns them, is to sow destruction. He gives special attention to the matter of Sunday preaching, insist-ing that nothing can achieve so much as this regular and familiar custom so long in use in the Church. Finally,. he recalls to his listeners the fact that the true sower of the good seed is God and that they are but instruments in His hand; what changes then would sweep the world if all who preached did so as ones truly coming with the power of God. The Holy Father's Easter message, delivered on April 21, 1957 (AAS pp. 276-80), was a meditative reflection on the phrase "O truly blessed night" of Holy Saturday's E, xultet. The night preceding the Resurrection, His Holiness begins, was one of desolation, tears, and darkness: Christ is dead; His flock is scattered; all is apparently in ruin. Nevertheless, even in that night there are signs of the dawn to come: the body of Christ suffers not the slightest taint of corruption and Mary prays in quiet confidence and expectation. That night before the Resurrection is also a symbol, adds the Vicar of Christ, of the night in which modern men find themselves: they must live in fear; their intelligences are cap-tured by error; immorality has reached a new depth. Neverthe-less, there are signs of a new day dawning. Science is provi-dentially multiplying the means to a fuller and freer life, while technology is providing the way to make these means available on a large scale. Moreover, men are now beginning to realize that the night of modern times is here because Christ has again been betrayed and crucified. Day will finally come to modern man when Christ restores grace to the individual soul and takes His rightful place in human social life. The Holy Father con-cludes his Easter message to mankind with a prayer that Christ may send the angel of the Resurrection to remove the obstacles 304 September, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS which men have built up :but which they are now powerless to remove. To Hospital Sisters On April 24, 1957 (AAS, pp. 291-96), Pius XII spoke to some 2,000 Italian hospital sisters who had met for the first time in a national meeting to discuss their common problems. The Pontiff began with a forceful statement of the part that religious women play in the life of the Church today, remarking that many branches of the Church's apostolate, especially those concerned with education and with works of chariiy, would be inconceivable without the existence of religious sisters. This said, the Holy Father then began to discuss with them the ideals of their relig-ious life. It is.a truth of our faith, he notes, that virginity is higher than the married state; for through virginity the soul achieves an immediate relationship with God that is one of absolute and indissoluble love. The virginal soul takes everything that God has given her to be a wife and mother and offers it back to Him in a complete and perpetual holocaust. In order to love God, the vi,rginal soul does not reach Him through other loves: noth-ing is interposed between such a soul and God. Hence it is that a religious must be a true spouse of our Lord, uniquely, indissolubly, and intimately united with Him. Hospital sisters then must take care that their assistance to the sick does not interfere with their spirit of absolute and perpetual devotion to God, guarding against all disordered activity which leaves them neither time nor repose for prayer to Christ. They must also guard themselves against long and frequent withdrawals from common life, that strong protection of the interior life. And they must watch carefully over their spirit of individual and collective poverty, making certain that their hospitals do not assume the character of merely money-making organizations. Turning now to their work for the sick, the Vicar of Christ notes that the existence of special institutions for the care of the 305 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious sick stemmed historically from the charity of the Church. Even today, when so many are interested in the care of the suffering, the Church will never abandon her task of caring' for the sick, for no one can take the place of the Church at the side of one who besides a body also possesses a soul whose needs and claims are often greater than those of the body. It is for this reason that the Holy Father urges hospital sis-ters to continue their work. Besides being perfect religious, they must also know and use the latest scientific methods and ap-paratus. They must train themselves to a motherly kindness that is linked with a strong element of firmness. They must lead a fully dynamic life and still retain their calm and serenity. Here the Holy Father adds that superiors must see to it that community time-schedules and practices do not make the sisters' work ineffi-cient and more difficult. In conclusion the Holy Father dwells at some length on the recommendation that the sisters train themselves always to see Christ in each of their patients. If they do so, he notes, then it will be easy to pass from the chapel to the sick room; religious observance and care for the sick will not interfere one with the other; and there will be no interruption of the sisters' union with Christ. The Holy Father then blessed the assembled sisters and concluded ~ith a remark that all hospital sisters will treasure: "The Church, the Pope, are depending on you: on your complete dedication, on your abilities, and on your spirit of love." Miscellaneous Matters Under the date March 19, 1957 (AAS, pp. 176-77), the Holy Father issued the rnotu proprio Sacram Co~nmunionern in which he provided that henceforth local ordinaries (with the exception of vicars general) may permit daily celebration of after-noon Mass provided the spiritual good of a notable part of the faithful warrants such a permission. His Holiness also further mitigated the Eucharistic fast. The drinking of water does not 306 September, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS break the fast'; and the time element for the Eucharistic fast is the following: Before the celebration of Mass in the case of priests and before the reception of Communion in the case of the faithful, solid food and alcoholic drink must be abstained from for three hours, while non-alcoholic drink must be abstained from for one hour. These time regulations extend both to morning and afternoon celebration of Mass and reception of Communion; and they must also be observed by those celebrating Mass at midnight or at the early hours of the morning as well as by those receiving Communion at such times. Finally, the Holy Father grants to the sick, even those not confined to bed, the .permission to take non-alcoholic drinks as well as liquid or solid medicine at any time before the celebration of Mass or the reception of Communion: Three documents of April and May of this year concerned the saints. The first of these is an apostolic letter of the Roman Pontiff which is dated June 8, 1956 (AAS, pp. 199-200), and which appoints St. Dominic Savio the patron of all choir boys. The other two documents are decrees of the Sacred Congre- - gation of Rites, both being dated January 22, 1957 (AAS, pp. 251-56). In the first of these decrees the congregation affirms the heroic virtue of the Venerable Servant of God Sister Mary Celine of the Presentation, professed nun of the Second Order of St. Francis (1878-97); the second decree affirms the heroic virtue of the Vdnerable Servant of God Sister Teresa of Jesus Journet Ibars, foundress of the Congregation of Little Sisters of the Indigent Aged (1843-97). Priests will be interested in the Holy Father's letter, dated March 25, 1957 (AAS, pp. 272-75), and sent to Cardinal Feltin of Paris on the.occasion of the 300th anniversary of the death of Jean-Jacques Olier, founder of the Society of St. Sulpice. - Olier, the Holy Father notes, recalls to the present generation the truth that the greatness and power of a priest consists in being a man of God and a man of ihe Church. As a man of God the priest must have two indispensable qualities: prayer 307 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious exercised especially through meditation and the Divine Office; and asceticism, manifested principally by a perfect chastity of heart and body. The priest then must always be aware that union with God is the indispensable prerequisite for apostolic fecundity and that the cross is the only instrument of salvation: evil is still cast out only by prayer and fasting. As a man of the Church, concludes the Holy Father, the priest must realize that all personal sanctity and apostolic effectiveness must be founded on constant and-exact obedience to the hierarchy. ¯ Several documents of the period surveyed are concerned in one way or another with matters educational and intellectual. On March 24, 1957 (AAS, pp. 281-87), the Holy Father addressed a group of 50,000 college students of Rome and gave them some detailed advice on their studies, urging them to dedicate them-selves completely to the pursuit of truth. A month later on April 25, 1957 (AAS, pp. 296-300), His Holiness spoke to the members of the eleventh plenary assembly of Pax Romana, telling them that no Catholic can be indifferent to the new world com-munity now in process of formation. This is especially true, he says, of Catholics engaged in intellectual work, for it is their task to spread Catholic truth and to give it practical application in all areas of human activity. Educational and intellectual matters also figure in two decrees issued by the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities. In the first of these decrees, dated-November 4, 1956 (AAS, pp. 219-20), provision is made for the canonical erection of a faculty of theology in Sophia University in Tokyo. In the other decree, dated December 20, 1956 (AAS, p. 308), . a faculty of philosophy was canonically erected in the Catholic University of Quito. Thre~ documents of April and May of this year pertain to political matters. On February 16, 1957 (AAS, pp. 201-5), a c-onvgntion was ratified betweeri the Holy See and the German Federal State of North-Rhine-Westphalia concerning the estab-lishment of a new diocese of Essen. On March 28, 1957 (AAS, 308 September, 1957 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS pp. 287-88), the Pontiff:addressed a group of young Berlin Catholics, telling them that the state must always respect the rights of individuals and of families and adding a plea for a united Europe and for the moral conditions without which such a union can never be realized. On Aprii 28, 1957 (AAS, pp. 300-301), the Pope gave a brief address on Communism, empha-sizing that the events of the last fdw months have clearly shown' to all men the aberrations of that way of life. Two other documents may be mentioned by way of conclud-ing this survey. On March 6, 1957 (AAS, pp. 215-17), the Holy Father sent a radio message to the school children of the United States exhorting them to be generous in contributing help for the needy children of other countries. And on Apri'l 23, 1957 (AAS, pp. 289-90), His Holiness spoke to a small group of Paris lawyers, extolling their° dignity as men devoted to the defense of law and of humanity and remarking that their profession is noteworthy as showing the value of humanism in a world where technical and scientific education is at a premium. Questions and Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. GaIlen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock Coll~ge, Woodstock, Maryland.'] 29 Are the professed of temporary vows obliged by canon law to return to the motherhouse two months before perpetual profession, remain there, and prepare for this profession? No. You are applying to the professed of temporary vows what an instruction of the Sacred Congregation-of Religious, November 3, 1921, had commanded only for novices employed in the external works of a congregation during the second year of noviceship. The code does not even command a retreat before perpetual profession. The constitutions almost universally prescribe such a retreat, and the usual duration is eight full. days. A shorter retreat is also found, for" 309 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religioue example, five or six days. It seems evidvnt enough that the constitu-tions or customs should command a retreat before perpetual profession. It would also be reasonable and profitable to prescribe a longer period of greater recollection .before perpetual profession. REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, September, 1953, 267; November, 1955, 313. --30-- Hasn't the movement of renovation and adaptation suggested any new laws whatsoever concerning poverty? This movement is primarily spiritual, theological, educational, formative, and apostolic. It is only very secondarily canonical or legal. Therefore, in the matter of poverty the emphasis of the move-ment is on the striving for detachment that. leads to an intensified love of God (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 1955, 302; September, 1956, 269-70). No new laws on poverty have been enacted by the Holy See, and no important suggestion for a new law has been made by authors with regard to the poverty of solemn profession. In the 'matter of the poverty of institutes of simple vows, suggestions have been.maple for inclusion in constitutions that are being origitxally approved or revised. The purpose of these suggestions is to make the poverty of simple p*ofession at least approach that of solemn profession. They are founded on the principle that in itself it is more in accord with evangelical poverty to give away one's property than to retain it for life and to be deprived or restricted in the right of acquiring property for oneself than to retain this right in an almost unlimited manner. The su.ggestions are thus reducible to two headings. 1. Right of acquisition. A limitation of the right of acquisition is according to the mind of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. In new or revised constitution~, congregations of men or women may in-clude an article of the following type: "After profession, whether of temporary or perpetual ~,ows, the religious acquire for themselves only property received as an inheritance or legacy from relatives to the second degree. All other temporal goods are acquired for the con-gregation." This practice may be followed only by institutes that have such a provision in their approved constitutions. An article of this nature would effect a purer poverty and would also eliminate some practical 310 September, 1957 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS difficulties and abuses. The meaning of relativ.es may be confined to blood relatives or extended also to relatives by marriage. The degrees would be computed according to canon law. 2. Giving away or renouncing one's property. New or revised con-stitutions of women may contain an ~rticle of the following type: "A professed sister, whether of temporary or perpetual vows, may not alienate the ownership of her property by a free gift effective during her lifetime. However, the professed of perpetual vows may (or, are counselled to) give all the property they own to the congregation under the form of a dowry." The similar article for institutes of men would be: "A professed religious, vShether of temporary or per-petual vows, may not alienate the ownership of his property by a free gift effective during his lifetime. However, the professed of perpetual vows may (or, are counselled toI give all the property they own to the congregation under the condition that the capital sum will be restored to them if they should leave or be dismissed." Either of the practices of the preceding paragraph, since they are not contrary to the code, may be ~ollowed even if not contained in the constitutions. The second sentence in Zither article may be introduced by an apt spiritual phrase, e. g., lCor their greater sancti-fication, for their greater poverty, for the greater purity of their evangelical poverty. There would be no difficulty also in applying either practice to the professed of temporary vows. In both cases the capital sum of the property will be restored to a religious who leaves, is excluded from further profession, or is dismissed. This fact would pro.tect the right of the religious to leave, if he wishes to do so, aad ,~iould also prevent want in the case of a departure, both of which constitute the purpose of the retention of property in congregations. Neither practice would prevent the religious from applying part or all of the income oa his property to other good purposes, e. g., to needy relatives, nor, with the permissioa of the Holy ~;ee, all or part of the capital sum of his personal property. However, it does not seem contrary to the mind of the Sacred Congregation for new or revised constitutions not merely to permit or counsel but to impose either practice with regard to all the personal property of a religious (REvIsw FOP, RELIGIOUS, September, 1953, 258-59; Escudero, /Iota et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statib'us Per[ectionis, I, 377; Muzzarelli, ibid., 430-31). 311 ~UEsTIONS AND ~NSWERS ~31m What is the law for the last Gospel according to the simplified rubrics? The last Gospel is always that of St. John except in the third Mass on Christmas and low Masses on Palm Sunday at which the palms are not blessed. Cf. Bugnini-Bellocchio, De Rubricis ad Sira-pliciorem Formam Redi#endis, 69; Bugnini, The Simpli/ication of the Rubric, s, 113; J. B. O'Connell, Simpii[yin# the Rubrics, 71; The Cele-bration o[ Mass, 178. What Mass may be said on the Saturday of Our Lady (S. Maria in Sabbato)? The Mass of the Saturday of Our Lady; the Daily Mass of the Dead and any votive Mass that is not of the BlesSed Mother, but both of these, if low, are forbidden during the three periods of January 2-5; January 7-12; and Ascension-Vigil of Pentecost; and the Mass of an occurring simple feast or mere commemoration, e. g., on Jan-uary 5, 19; July 13, 27; August 3; September 28; October 5, 26 in the ordo of the Universal Church for 1957. As stated above, the only Mass of the Blessed Mother permitted is that of S. Maria in Sabbato. Cf. Wuest-Mullaney-Barry Matters Liturgical, n. 252. --33-- What should be done if a check in a small amount is received for your own personal, use? Endorse the check and drop it in the treasurer's box. The inten-tion of such a donor is certainly not that the religious should sin by using the money without permission. Neither are we to presume that a donor intends that the religious should make use of the gift in a way that is contrary to the greater perfection of the religious. Externs are fully conscious that the religious is in the state of perfection and that his life should be distinguished by renunciation and self-denial. They are readily scandalized at the lack of these qualities. If you have any material necessity, the more perfect time to ask for it is not on the occasion of receiving a gift. Cf. gEVlEW FOg gELIG~OUS, January, 1949, 39. 312 Book Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE ROMAN CATACOMBS AND THEIR MARTYRS. By Lud-wig Hertling, S.J., and Engelb~rt Kirschbaum, S.J. Translated from the German by M. Joseph Costelloe, S.J. Pp. 224. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee I. 1956. $3.50. It is a pleasure to ir~troduce this excellent hook to readers of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The subject is nowhere so well presented, to my knowledge, within the compass of one modest volume. It is com-petent; it is well ordered; it is readable; it is warm with the sympathies of the Christian tradition of culture. Archaeology, in all its branches, has a remarkable appeal to many people today, no doubt becauseit brings to them a new and vivid revelation.of the community of human nature with itself. The catacombs of Rome, with their touching expression of the pi.eties of our forefathers in the faith, reveal to Christians the communion of saints. A Catholic feels wonderfully at home in these ancient resting places of our dead. The authors are professors of ecclesiastical history and of achae-ology, respectively, in the Gregorian University and scholars of estab-lished authority in their fields. Father Kirschbaum was one of the four commissioned by Pius XII to investigate the reputed site, under the high altar of St. Peter's, of the apostolic tomb. A brief account of the results Of their quest is among the points of major interest in this book. Father Costelloe'meets with ease the two great exigencies of the translator's art, faithfulness to the thought of his author and to the idiom of his reader. A skilled initiate in Roman archaeology, he can write so clearly about these matters which he understands so well. With the praiseworthy permission of Fathers Hertling and Kirsch-baum, he has added his own notes to theirs and some quite new matter in the body of the book, known through the advance reports of explorations yet unpublished. By this positive contribution, he gives to English readers a welcome revision as well as a sound version of the original. 313 BOOK REVIEWS Review' for Religious The scope of the book may be indicated by running down the titles of the chapters: The Exploration of the Catacombs;. The Ceme-teries; The Tombs of the Popes; The Tombs of the Martyrs; The Tombs of the Apostles; The Persecutions; On the Way to Martyrdom; The Eucharist; Baptism; The People of God; The Art of the Cata-combs; The Creed of Catacombal Art. Forty-five plates and eight figures make an important complement to the text. By some fault of printing, twoor three of them, in my copy, are rough to the touch. Generally, the publisher has done 'a good job, and at a remarkably low price.--ED~;~,g R. SMOTH~P,S, S.J. FRANCIS OF THE CRUCIFIED. By Myles Schmitt, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. 152. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1. 1956. $3.00. Father Myles Schmitt, of St. Francis Capuchin College, Washing-ton, D. C., offers his readers a series of conference-chapters on the Franciscan way of perfection. Writers of general treatises on spiritual theology, such as Tanquerey and de Guibert, can present a .particular way of perfection only in skeletal form. Father Schmitt develops at suitable length the Franciscan way. At the same time, he is constantly concerned to relate it to the Christian way. For, at root, all Christian perfection is one, no matter the diversity of ways proposed for arriv-ing at it. In a way reminiscent of Gerald Vann's The Heart of Man, Father Schmitt organizes the life of perfection around the Beatitudes. His book is not as complete and detailed as Theodosius Foley's Spiritual Conferences for Religious Based on the Franciscan Ideal. Nor does it follow the life of St. Francis as closely as de Tour's Franciscan Perfection. But his choice of the Beatitudes as an organizing principle keeps the main line of argument simple, strong, and progressive and still gives him room enough to touch on a variety of subjects. Father Schmitt is especially good at describing the spiral move-merit of growth in perfection. Not only must ofie try to live more and more in accordance with his vision of the ideal; but, at the same time, one's vision must grow correspondingly in depth and p~netration. This spiral movement is particularly clear in St. Francis's religious life which began with what might be called an "inaugural vision" and grew as that vision' deepened and matured. Father Schmitt takes great pains .to delineate the initial vision of the Franciscan way, to map out 314 September, 1957 BOOK REVIEWS the s~ag'es of progress of that vis~ion, and to relate to it all growth in perfection. Basically, then, the Franciscan must focus his attention on the imitation of Christ crucified through a living out of the gospel life as envisaged by the Beatitudes. The foundation of this life is poverty leading to that poverty of personality called humility. Keeping before his eyes his nothingness in the presence of God, the~ Franciscan makes a sacrifice of himself and .thus fulfills simple justice. With mercy and simplicity, he takes on the role of peace-maker, courageous!y overcoming the opposition of a world set against Christ and at war ,with itself. His is a life of love, of devotion to the Eucharist, of love of Mary sorrowful. And oil such is his .vision, his necessary response will be apostolic action. Obviously the book's usefulness is not limited to Franciscans. Inasmuch as all the means proposed are the common heritage of Christi