Background: Established in 2000, Millennium Development Goal 4 (MDG4) catalysed extraordinary political, financial, and social commitments to reduce under-5 mortality by two-thirds between 1990 and 2015. At the country level, the pace of progress in improving child survival has varied markedly, highlighting a crucial need to further examine potential drivers of accelerated or slowed decreases in child mortality. The Global Burden of Disease 2015 Study (GBD 2015) provides an analytical framework to comprehensively assess these trends for under-5 mortality, age-specific and cause-specific mortality among children under 5 years, and stillbirths by geography over time. Methods: Drawing from analytical approaches developed and refined in previous iterations of the GBD study, we generated updated estimates of child mortality by age group (neonatal, post-neonatal, ages 1–4 years, and under 5) for 195 countries and territories and selected subnational geographies, from 1980–2015. We also estimated numbers and rates of stillbirths for these geographies and years. Gaussian process regression with data source adjustments for sampling and non-sampling bias was applied to synthesise input data for under-5 mortality for each geography. Age-specific mortality estimates were generated through a two-stage age–sex splitting process, and stillbirth estimates were produced with a mixed-effects model, which accounted for variable stillbirth definitions and data source-specific biases. For GBD 2015, we did a series of novel analyses to systematically quantify the drivers of trends in child mortality across geographies. First, we assessed observed and expected levels and annualised rates of decrease for under-5 mortality and stillbirths as they related to the Soci-demographic Index (SDI). Second, we examined the ratio of recorded and expected levels of child mortality, on the basis of SDI, across geographies, as well as differences in recorded and expected annualised rates of change for under-5 mortality. Third, we analysed levels and cause compositions of under-5 mortality, across time and geographies, as they related to rising SDI. Finally, we decomposed the changes in under-5 mortality to changes in SDI at the global level, as well as changes in leading causes of under-5 deaths for countries and territories. We documented each step of the GBD 2015 child mortality estimation process, as well as data sources, in accordance with the Guidelines for Accurate and Transparent Health Estimates Reporting (GATHER). Findings: Globally, 5·8 million (95% uncertainty interval [UI] 5·7–6·0) children younger than 5 years died in 2015, representing a 52·0% (95% UI 50·7–53·3) decrease in the number of under-5 deaths since 1990. Neonatal deaths and stillbirths fell at a slower pace since 1990, decreasing by 42·4% (41·3–43·6) to 2·6 million (2·6–2·7) neonatal deaths and 47·0% (35·1–57·0) to 2·1 million (1·8-2·5) stillbirths in 2015. Between 1990 and 2015, global under-5 mortality decreased at an annualised rate of decrease of 3·0% (2·6–3·3), falling short of the 4·4% annualised rate of decrease required to achieve MDG4. During this time, 58 countries met or exceeded the pace of progress required to meet MDG4. Between 2000, the year MDG4 was formally enacted, and 2015, 28 additional countries that did not achieve the 4·4% rate of decrease from 1990 met the MDG4 pace of decrease. However, absolute levels of under-5 mortality remained high in many countries, with 11 countries still recording rates exceeding 100 per 1000 livebirths in 2015. Marked decreases in under-5 deaths due to a number of communicable diseases, including lower respiratory infections, diarrhoeal diseases, measles, and malaria, accounted for much of the progress in lowering overall under-5 mortality in low-income countries. Compared with gains achieved for infectious diseases and nutritional deficiencies, the persisting toll of neonatal conditions and congenital anomalies on child survival became evident, especially in low-income and low-middle-income countries. We found sizeable heterogeneities in comparing observed and expected rates of under-5 mortality, as well as differences in observed and expected rates of change for under-5 mortality. At the global level, we recorded a divergence in observed and expected levels of under-5 mortality starting in 2000, with the observed trend falling much faster than what was expected based on SDI through 2015. Between 2000 and 2015, the world recorded 10·3 million fewer under-5 deaths than expected on the basis of improving SDI alone. Interpretation: Gains in child survival have been large, widespread, and in many places in the world, faster than what was anticipated based on improving levels of development. Yet some countries, particularly in sub-Saharan Africa, still had high rates of under-5 mortality in 2015. Unless these countries are able to accelerate reductions in child deaths at an extraordinary pace, their achievement of proposed SDG targets is unlikely. Improving the evidence base on drivers that might hasten the pace of progress for child survival, ranging from cost-effective intervention packages to innovative financing mechanisms, is vital to charting the pathways for ultimately ending preventable child deaths by 2030.
Background Established in 2000, Millennium Development Goal 4 (MDG4) catalysed extraordinary political, financial, and social commitments to reduce under-5 mortality by two-thirds between 1990 and 2015. At the country level, the pace of progress in improving child survival has varied markedly, highlighting a crucial need to further examine potential drivers of accelerated or slowed decreases in child mortality. The Global Burden of Disease 2015 Study (GBD 2015) provides an analytical framework to comprehensively assess these trends for under-5 mortality, age-specific and cause-specific mortality among children under 5 years, and stillbirths by geography over time. Methods Drawing from analytical approaches developed and refined in previous iterations of the GBD study, we generated updated estimates of child mortality by age group (neonatal, post-neonatal, ages 1-4 years, and under 5) for 195 countries and territories and selected subnational geographies, from 1980-2015. We also estimated numbers and rates of stillbirths for these geographies and years. Gaussian process regression with data source adjustments for sampling and non-sampling bias was applied to synthesise input data for under-5 mortality for each geography. Age-specific mortality estimates were generated through a two-stage age-sex splitting process, and stillbirth estimates were produced with a mixed-effects model, which accounted for variable stillbirth definitions and data source-specific biases. For GBD 2015, we did a series of novel analyses to systematically quantify the drivers of trends in child mortality across geographies. First, we assessed observed and expected levels and annualised rates of decrease for under-5 mortality and stillbirths as they related to the Soci-demographic Index (SDI). Second, we examined the ratio of recorded and expected levels of child mortality, on the basis of SDI, across geographies, as well as differences in recorded and expected annualised rates of change for under-5 mortality. Third, we analysed levels and cause compositions of under-5 mortality, across time and geographies, as they related to rising SDI. Finally, we decomposed the changes in under-5 mortality to changes in SDI at the global level, as well as changes in leading causes of under-5 deaths for countries and territories. We documented each step of the GBD 2015 child mortality estimation process, as well as data sources, in accordance with the Guidelines for Accurate and Transparent Health Estimates Reporting (GATHER). Findings Globally, 5.8 million (95% uncertainty interval [UI] 5.7-6.0) children younger than 5 years died in 2015, representing a 52.0% (95% UI 50.7-53.3) decrease in the number of under-5 deaths since 1990. Neonatal deaths and stillbirths fell at a slower pace since 1990, decreasing by 42.4% (41.3-43.6) to 2.6 million (2.6-2.7) neonatal deaths and 47.0% (35.1-57.0) to 2.1 million (1.8-2.5) stillbirths in 2015. Between 1990 and 2015, global under-5 mortality decreased at an annualised rate of decrease of 3.0% (2.6-3.3), falling short of the 4.4% annualised rate of decrease required to achieve MDG4. During this time, 58 countries met or exceeded the pace of progress required to meet MDG4. Between 2000, the year MDG4 was formally enacted, and 2015, 28 additional countries that did not achieve the 4.4% rate of decrease from 1990 met the MDG4 pace of decrease. However, absolute levels of under-5 mortality remained high in many countries, with 11 countries still recording rates exceeding 100 per 1000 livebirths in 2015. Marked decreases in under-5 deaths due to a number of communicable diseases, including lower respiratory infections, diarrhoeal diseases, measles, and malaria, accounted for much of the progress in lowering overall under-5 mortality in low-income countries. Compared with gains achieved for infectious diseases and nutritional deficiencies, the persisting toll of neonatal conditions and congenital anomalies on child survival became evident, especially in low-income and low-middle-income countries. We found sizeable heterogeneities in comparing observed and expected rates of under-5 mortality, as well as differences in observed and expected rates of change for under-5 mortality. At the global level, we recorded a divergence in observed and expected levels of under-5 mortality starting in 2000, with the observed trend falling much faster than what was expected based on SDI through 2015. Between 2000 and 2015, the world recorded 10.3 million fewer under-5 deaths than expected on the basis of improving SDI alone. Interpretation Gains in child survival have been large, widespread, and in many places in the world, faster than what was anticipated based on improving levels of development. Yet some countries, particularly in sub-Saharan Africa, still had high rates of under-5 mortality in 2015. Unless these countries are able to accelerate reductions in child deaths at an extraordinary pace, their achievement of proposed SDG targets is unlikely. Improving the evidence base on drivers that might hasten the pace of progress for child survival, ranging from cost-effective intervention packages to innovative financing mechanisms, is vital to charting the pathways for ultimately ending preventable child deaths by 2030.
Background: Achieving universal health coverage (UHC) involves all people receiving the health services they need, of high quality, without experiencing financial hardship. Making progress towards UHC is a policy priority for both countries and global institutions, as highlighted by the agenda of the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and WHO's Thirteenth General Programme of Work (GPW13). Measuring effective coverage at the health-system level is important for understanding whether health services are aligned with countries' health profiles and are of sufficient quality to produce health gains for populations of all ages. Methods: Based on the Global Burden of Diseases, Injuries, and Risk Factors Study (GBD) 2019, we assessed UHC effective coverage for 204 countries and territories from 1990 to 2019. Drawing from a measurement framework developed through WHO's GPW13 consultation, we mapped 23 effective coverage indicators to a matrix representing health service types (eg, promotion, prevention, and treatment) and five population-age groups spanning from reproductive and newborn to older adults (≥65 years). Effective coverage indicators were based on intervention coverage or outcome-based measures such as mortality-to-incidence ratios to approximate access to quality care; outcome-based measures were transformed to values on a scale of 0–100 based on the 2·5th and 97·5th percentile of location-year values. We constructed the UHC effective coverage index by weighting each effective coverage indicator relative to its associated potential health gains, as measured by disability-adjusted life-years for each location-year and population-age group. For three tests of validity (content, known-groups, and convergent), UHC effective coverage index performance was generally better than that of other UHC service coverage indices from WHO (ie, the current metric for SDG indicator 3.8.1 on UHC service coverage), the World Bank, and GBD 2017. We quantified frontiers of UHC effective coverage performance on the basis of pooled health spending per capita, representing UHC effective coverage index levels achieved in 2019 relative to country-level government health spending, prepaid private expenditures, and development assistance for health. To assess current trajectories towards the GPW13 UHC billion target—1 billion more people benefiting from UHC by 2023—we estimated additional population equivalents with UHC effective coverage from 2018 to 2023. Findings: Globally, performance on the UHC effective coverage index improved from 45·8 (95% uncertainty interval 44·2–47·5) in 1990 to 60·3 (58·7–61·9) in 2019, yet country-level UHC effective coverage in 2019 still spanned from 95 or higher in Japan and Iceland to lower than 25 in Somalia and the Central African Republic. Since 2010, sub-Saharan Africa showed accelerated gains on the UHC effective coverage index (at an average increase of 2·6% [1·9–3·3] per year up to 2019); by contrast, most other GBD super-regions had slowed rates of progress in 2010–2019 relative to 1990–2010. Many countries showed lagging performance on effective coverage indicators for non-communicable diseases relative to those for communicable diseases and maternal and child health, despite non-communicable diseases accounting for a greater proportion of potential health gains in 2019, suggesting that many health systems are not keeping pace with the rising non-communicable disease burden and associated population health needs. In 2019, the UHC effective coverage index was associated with pooled health spending per capita (r=0·79), although countries across the development spectrum had much lower UHC effective coverage than is potentially achievable relative to their health spending. Under maximum efficiency of translating health spending into UHC effective coverage performance, countries would need to reach $1398 pooled health spending per capita (US$ adjusted for purchasing power parity) in order to achieve 80 on the UHC effective coverage index. From 2018 to 2023, an estimated 388·9 million (358·6–421·3) more population equivalents would have UHC effective coverage, falling well short of the GPW13 target of 1 billion more people benefiting from UHC during this time. Current projections point to an estimated 3·1 billion (3·0–3·2) population equivalents still lacking UHC effective coverage in 2023, with nearly a third (968·1 million [903·5–1040·3]) residing in south Asia. Interpretation: The present study demonstrates the utility of measuring effective coverage and its role in supporting improved health outcomes for all people—the ultimate goal of UHC and its achievement. Global ambitions to accelerate progress on UHC service coverage are increasingly unlikely unless concerted action on non-communicable diseases occurs and countries can better translate health spending into improved performance. Focusing on effective coverage and accounting for the world's evolving health needs lays the groundwork for better understanding how close—or how far—all populations are in benefiting from UHC.
Background Achieving universal health coverage (UHC) involves all people receiving the health services they need, of high quality, without experiencing financial hardship. Making progress towards UHC is a policy priority for both countries and global institutions, as highlighted by the agenda of the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) and WHO's Thirteenth General Programme of Work (GPW13). Measuring effective coverage at the health-system level is important for understanding whether health services are aligned with countries' health profiles and are of sufficient quality to produce health gains for populations of all ages. Methods Based on the Global Burden of Diseases, Injuries, and Risk Factors Study (GBD) 2019, we assessed UHC effective coverage for 204 countries and territories from 1990 to 2019. Drawing from a measurement framework developed through WHO's GPW13 consultation, we mapped 23 effective coverage indicators to a matrix representing health service types (eg, promotion, prevention, and treatment) and five population-age groups spanning from reproductive and newborn to older adults (≥65 years). Effective coverage indicators were based on intervention coverage or outcome-based measures such as mortality-to-incidence ratios to approximate access to quality care; outcome-based measures were transformed to values on a scale of 0–100 based on the 2·5th and 97·5th percentile of location-year values. We constructed the UHC effective coverage index by weighting each effective coverage indicator relative to its associated potential health gains, as measured by disability-adjusted life-years for each location-year and population-age group. For three tests of validity (content, known-groups, and convergent), UHC effective coverage index performance was generally better than that of other UHC service coverage indices from WHO (ie, the current metric for SDG indicator 3.8.1 on UHC service coverage), the World Bank, and GBD 2017. We quantified frontiers of UHC effective coverage performance on the basis of pooled health spending per capita, representing UHC effective coverage index levels achieved in 2019 relative to country-level government health spending, prepaid private expenditures, and development assistance for health. To assess current trajectories towards the GPW13 UHC billion target—1 billion more people benefiting from UHC by 2023—we estimated additional population equivalents with UHC effective coverage from 2018 to 2023. Findings Globally, performance on the UHC effective coverage index improved from 45·8 (95% uncertainty interval 44·2–47·5) in 1990 to 60·3 (58·7–61·9) in 2019, yet country-level UHC effective coverage in 2019 still spanned from 95 or higher in Japan and Iceland to lower than 25 in Somalia and the Central African Republic. Since 2010, sub-Saharan Africa showed accelerated gains on the UHC effective coverage index (at an average increase of 2·6% [1·9–3·3] per year up to 2019); by contrast, most other GBD super-regions had slowed rates of progress in 2010–2019 relative to 1990–2010. Many countries showed lagging performance on effective coverage indicators for non-communicable diseases relative to those for communicable diseases and maternal and child health, despite non-communicable diseases accounting for a greater proportion of potential health gains in 2019, suggesting that many health systems are not keeping pace with the rising non-communicable disease burden and associated population health needs. In 2019, the UHC effective coverage index was associated with pooled health spending per capita (r=0·79), although countries across the development spectrum had much lower UHC effective coverage than is potentially achievable relative to their health spending. Under maximum efficiency of translating health spending into UHC effective coverage performance, countries would need to reach $1398 pooled health spending per capita (US$ adjusted for purchasing power parity) in order to achieve 80 on the UHC effective coverage index. From 2018 to 2023, an estimated 388·9 million (358·6–421·3) more population equivalents would have UHC effective coverage, falling well short of the GPW13 target of 1 billion more people benefiting from UHC during this time. Current projections point to an estimated 3·1 billion (3·0–3·2) population equivalents still lacking UHC effective coverage in 2023, with nearly a third (968·1 million [903·5–1040·3]) residing in south Asia. Interpretation The present study demonstrates the utility of measuring effective coverage and its role in supporting improved health outcomes for all people—the ultimate goal of UHC and its achievement. Global ambitions to accelerate progress on UHC service coverage are increasingly unlikely unless concerted action on non-communicable diseases occurs and countries can better translate health spending into improved performance. Focusing on effective coverage and accounting for the world's evolving health needs lays the groundwork for better understanding how close—or how far—all populations are in benefiting from UHC. Funding Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation.
Importance Cancer and other noncommunicable diseases (NCDs) are now widely recognized as a threat to global development. The latest United Nations high-level meeting on NCDs reaffirmed this observation and also highlighted the slow progress in meeting the 2011 Political Declaration on the Prevention and Control of Noncommunicable Diseases and the third Sustainable Development Goal. Lack of situational analyses, priority setting, and budgeting have been identified as major obstacles in achieving these goals. All of these have in common that they require information on the local cancer epidemiology. The Global Burden of Disease (GBD) study is uniquely poised to provide these crucial data. Objective To describe cancer burden for 29 cancer groups in 195 countries from 1990 through 2017 to provide data needed for cancer control planning. Evidence Review We used the GBD study estimation methods to describe cancer incidence, mortality, years lived with disability, years of life lost, and disability-adjusted life-years (DALYs). Results are presented at the national level as well as by Socio-demographic Index (SDI), a composite indicator of income, educational attainment, and total fertility rate. We also analyzed the influence of the epidemiological vs the demographic transition on cancer incidence. Findings In 2017, there were 24.5 million incident cancer cases worldwide (16.8 million without nonmelanoma skin cancer [NMSC]) and 9.6 million cancer deaths. The majority of cancer DALYs came from years of life lost (97%), and only 3% came from years lived with disability. The odds of developing cancer were the lowest in the low SDI quintile (1 in 7) and the highest in the high SDI quintile (1 in 2) for both sexes. In 2017, the most common incident cancers in men were NMSC (4.3 million incident cases); tracheal, bronchus, and lung (TBL) cancer (1.5 million incident cases); and prostate cancer (1.3 million incident cases). The most common causes of cancer deaths and DALYs for men were TBL cancer (1.3 million deaths and 28.4 million DALYs), liver cancer (572 000 deaths and 15.2 million DALYs), and stomach cancer (542 000 deaths and 12.2 million DALYs). For women in 2017, the most common incident cancers were NMSC (3.3 million incident cases), breast cancer (1.9 million incident cases), and colorectal cancer (819 000 incident cases). The leading causes of cancer deaths and DALYs for women were breast cancer (601 000 deaths and 17.4 million DALYs), TBL cancer (596 000 deaths and 12.6 million DALYs), and colorectal cancer (414 000 deaths and 8.3 million DALYs). Conclusions and Relevance The national epidemiological profiles of cancer burden in the GBD study show large heterogeneities, which are a reflection of different exposures to risk factors, economic settings, lifestyles, and access to care and screening. The GBD study can be used by policy makers and other stakeholders to develop and improve national and local cancer control in order to achieve the global targets and improve equity in cancer
For a decade, The Cancer Genome Atlas (TCGA) program collected clinicopathologic annotation data along with multi-platform molecular profiles of more than 11,000 human tumors across 33 different cancer types. TCGA clinical data contain key features representing the democratized nature of the data collection process. To ensure proper use of this large clinical dataset associated with genomic features, we developed a standardized dataset named the TCGA Pan-Cancer Clinical Data Resource (TCGA-CDR), which includes four major clinical outcome endpoints. In addition to detailing major challenges and statistical limitations encountered during the effort of integrating the acquired clinical data, we present a summary that includes endpoint usage recommendations for each cancer type. These TCGA-CDR findings appear to be consistent with cancer genomics studies independent of the TCGA effort and provide opportunities for investigating cancer biology using clinical correlates at an unprecedented scale.
For a decade, The Cancer Genome Atlas (TCGA) program collected clinicopathologic annotation data along with multi-platform molecular profiles of more than 11,000 human tumors across 33 different cancer types. TCGA clinical data contain key features representing the democratized nature of the data collection process. To ensure proper use of this large clinical dataset associated with genomic features, we developed a standardized dataset named the TCGA Pan-Cancer Clinical Data Resource (TCGA-CDR), which includes four major clinical outcome endpoints. In addition to detailing major challenges and statistical limitations encountered during the effort of integrating the acquired clinical data, we present a summary that includes endpoint usage recommendations for each cancer type. These TCGA-CDR findings appear to be consistent with cancer genomics studies independent of the TCGA effort and provide opportunities for investigating cancer biology using clinical correlates at an unprecedented scale. Analysis of clinicopathologic annotations for over 11,000 cancer patients in the TCGA program leads to the generation of TCGA Clinical Data Resource, which provides recommendations of clinical outcome endpoint usage for 33 cancer types.
Background Healthy life expectancy (HALE) and disability-adjusted life-years (DALYs) provide summary measures of health across geographies and time that can inform assessments of epidemiological patterns and health system performance, help to prioritise investments in research and development, and monitor progress toward the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). We aimed to provide updated HALE and DALYs for geographies worldwide and evaluate how disease burden changes with development. Methods We used results from the Global Burden of Diseases, Injuries, and Risk Factors Study 2015 (GBD 2015) for all-cause mortality, cause-specific mortality, and non-fatal disease burden to derive HALE and DALYs by sex for 195 countries and territories from 1990 to 2015. We calculated DALYs by summing years of life lost (YLLs) and years of life lived with disability (YLDs) for each geography, age group, sex, and year. We estimated HALE using the Sullivan method, which draws from age-specific death rates and YLDs per capita. We then assessed how observed levels of DALYs and HALE differed from expected trends calculated with the Socio-demographic Index (SDI), a composite indicator constructed from measures of income per capita, average years of schooling, and total fertility rate. Findings Total global DALYs remained largely unchanged from 1990 to 2015, with decreases in communicable, neonatal, maternal, and nutritional (Group 1) disease DALYs offset by increased DALYs due to non-communicable diseases (NCDs). Much of this epidemiological transition was caused by changes in population growth and ageing, but it was accelerated by widespread improvements in SDI that also correlated strongly with the increasing importance of NCDs. Both total DALYs and age-standardised DALY rates due to most Group 1 causes significantly decreased by 2015, and although total burden climbed for the majority of NCDs, age-standardised DALY rates due to NCDs declined. Nonetheless, age-standardised DALY rates due to several high-burden NCDs (including osteoarthritis, drug use disorders, depression, diabetes, congenital birth defects, and skin, oral, and sense organ diseases) either increased or remained unchanged, leading to increases in their relative ranking in many geographies. From 2005 to 2015, HALE at birth increased by an average of 2·9 years (95% uncertainty interval 2·9–3·0) for men and 3·5 years (3·4–3·7) for women, while HALE at age 65 years improved by 0·85 years (0·78–0·92) and 1·2 years (1·1–1·3), respectively. Rising SDI was associated with consistently higher HALE and a somewhat smaller proportion of life spent with functional health loss; however, rising SDI was related to increases in total disability. Many countries and territories in central America and eastern sub-Saharan Africa had increasingly lower rates of disease burden than expected given their SDI. At the same time, a subset of geographies recorded a growing gap between observed and expected levels of DALYs, a trend driven mainly by rising burden due to war, interpersonal violence, and various NCDs. Interpretation Health is improving globally, but this means more populations are spending more time with functional health loss, an absolute expansion of morbidity. The proportion of life spent in ill health decreases somewhat with increasing SDI, a relative compression of morbidity, which supports continued efforts to elevate personal income, improve education, and limit fertility. Our analysis of DALYs and HALE and their relationship to SDI represents a robust framework on which to benchmark geography-specific health performance and SDG progress. Country-specific drivers of disease burden, particularly for causes with higher-than-expected DALYs, should inform financial and research investments, prevention efforts, health policies, and health system improvement initiatives for all countries along the development continuum. Funding Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. ; We would like to thank the countless individuals who have contributed to the Global Burden of Disease Study 2015 in various capacities. The data reported here have been supplied by the US Renal Data System (USRDS). Data for this research was provided by MEASURE Evaluation, funded by the United States Agency for International Development (USAID). Collection of these data was made possible by the US Agency for International Development (USAID) under the terms of cooperative agreement GPO-A-00-08-000_D3-00. Views expressed do not necessarily reflect those of USAID, the US Government, or MEASURE Evaluation. Parts of this material are based on data and information provided by the Canadian institute for Health Information. However, the analyses, conclusions, opinions and statements expressed herein are those of the author and not those of the Canadian Institute for Health information. The Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics granted the researchers access to relevant data in accordance with license no SLN2014-3-170, after subjecting data to processing aiming to preserve the confidentiality of individual data in accordance with the General Statistics Law, 2000. The researchers are solely responsible for the conclusions and inferences drawn upon available data. This paper uses data from SHARE Waves 1, 2, 3 (SHARELIFE), 4 and 5 (DOIs: 10.6103/SHARE.w1.500, 10.6103/SHARE.w2.500, 10.6103/SHARE.w3.500, 10.6103/SHARE.w4.500, 10.6103/SHARE.w5.500), see Börsch-Supan and colleagues, 2013, for methodological details. The SHARE data collection has been primarily funded by the European Commission through FP5 (QLK6-CT-2001-00360), FP6 (SHARE-I3: RII-CT-2006-062193, COMPARE: CIT5-CT-2005-028857, SHARELIFE: CIT4-CT-2006-028812) and FP7 (SHARE-PREP: number 211909, SHARE-LEAP: number 227822, SHARE M4: number 261982). Additional funding from the German Ministry of Education and Research, the US National Institute on Aging (U01_AG09740-13S2, P01_AG005842, P01_AG08291, P30_AG12815, R21_AG025169, Y1-AG-4553-01, IAG_BSR06-11, and OGHA_04-064) and from various national funding sources is gratefully acknowledged. This study has been realised using the data collected by the Swiss Household Panel (SHP), which is based at the Swiss Centre of Expertise in the Social Sciences FORS. The project is financed by the Swiss National Science Foundation. The following individuals would like to acknowledge various forms of institutional support: Simon I Hay is funded by a Senior Research Fellowship from the Wellcome Trust (#095066), and grants from the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation (OPP1119467, OPP1093011, OPP1106023 and OPP1132415). Amanda G Thrift is supported by a fellowship from the National Health and Medical Research Council (GNT1042600). Panniyammakal Jeemon is supported by the Wellcome Trust-DBT India Alliance, Clinical and Public Health, Intermediate Fellowship (2015–2020). Boris Bikbov, Norberto Percio, and Giuseppe Remuzzi acknowledge that work related to this paper has been done on the behalf of the GBD Genitourinary Disease Expert Group supported by the International Society of Nephrology (ISN). Amador Goodridge acknowledges funding from Sistema Nacional de Investigadores de Panamá-SNI. José das Neves was supported in his contribution to this work by a Fellowship from Fundação para a Ciência e a Tecnologia, Portugal (SFRH/BPD/92934/2013). Lijing L Yan is supported by the National Natural Sciences Foundation of China grants (71233001 and 71490732). Olanrewaju Oladimeji is an African Research Fellow at Human Sciences Research Council (HSRC) and Doctoral Candidate at the University of KwaZulu-Natal (UKZN), South Africa, and would like to acknowledge the institutional support by leveraging on the existing organisational research infrastructure at HSRC and UKZN. Nicholas Steel received funding from Public Health England as a Visiting Scholar in the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation in 2016. No individuals acknowledged received additional compensation for their efforts. ; Peer-reviewed ; Publisher Version
Issue 71.1 of the Review for Religious, 2012. This was the final issue. ; Volume 71 2012 Editor Michael G. Harter sj Associate Editor Garth L. Hallett sj Book Review Editor Rosemary Jermann Scripture Scope Eugene Hensell osb Editorial Staff Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp e v i e w f o r r e l i g i o u s A Journal of Catholic Spirituality contents prisms 4 Prisms Ignatian spirituality 8 Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? We Are Sent Kathleen Hughes rscj explores the provocative parallels between the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four-part rhythm of the Eucharist as two ways we are caught up in the work of God in Christ, and two invitations to replicate the whole life, death, and rising of Jesus. This article was one of the keynote presentations at Ignatian Spirituality Conference V held in St. Louis, Missouri, July 21-24, 2011. 29 Without the Drama: The Transition from Third to Fourth Week Ronald Mercier sj explores how those who make the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius are invited to enter into a grand silence where they contemplate the empty space without answers that follows the crucifixion—the space that remains the context of our lives, the place of our ministries, and the space within which joy dawns for those who know the Risen Lord. Questions for Reflection 58 Finding or Seeking God in All Things: A Few Cautionary Notes Peter J. Schineller sj researches the phrase "finding God in all things," common in writings about Ignatian spirituality, and discovers that it is rare in the writings of Ignatius. He finds that phrases such as "searching for and seeking God in all things" more accurately describe the Ignatian approach. 2 Review for Religious sharing experience 69 The Warmth, the Will, and the Way Ben Harrison mc is discovering that it helps him be more consistent in his spiritual journey if he is attentive to the warmth of the Spirit's presence in his heart and to the vows as an expression of the will to move deeper in his relationship with God. 78 Getting with the Program A young man writes of his experience of coming to terms during the novitiate with his addiction to pornography. This article could be used profitably as a case study during a novitiate class or read as background for a community discussion. Questions for Personal Reflection and Group Study discernment models 86 Dialogue with the Radically Other: Models of Discernment in the Old Testament Ligita Ryliskyte md phd sje explores the rich imagery of the Old Testament and offers valuable paradigms to understand spiritual discernment as a dialogue with God. In this essay she describes four models of discernment that might be distinguished in Old Testament imagery. departments 100 Scripture Scope: Vocation and the Call to Discipleship: A Reflection on Mark 1:16-20 105 Book Reviews 71.1 2012 3 Review for Religious prisms 4 A wise man once said: "It's a shame to waste a good crisis." If that is true, Review for Religious is facing a moment of great opportunity. In recent years the number of subscribers has steadily fallen off, and the cost of publication has risen to the point that our future as a print journal is in jeop-ardy. The recent deaths of Fathers Fischer and Fleming have taken their toll. We have reached a critical point in our history. When my provincial assigned me to succeed David Fleming as editor, he gave me a specific mission: Assess the viability of the publication. So for the past year, the staff and our advisory board have taken that mission seriously even as we worked to meet our ordinary production schedule. While we all hoped to be able to keep this good work alive, the real goal of our discernment was not to save or to close the journal, but to explore ways to more effectively serve the church. In the past months we have consulted widely. We looked at the shifting demographics of reli-gious life and understood that younger reli-gious are getting more of their information on 71.1 2012 5 the Internet than through printed periodicals. We sorted through spreadsheets of detailed financial information. We looked hard at our available resources and realized that we could sustain publication of the journal in its present format for a maximum of three to five years. The hand-writing on the wall could not be clearer: Simply maintain-ing operations as they are will inevitably lead to closure. Maintenance, without change, is not an option. Part of our analysis took us back to look at our history. Our journal came into being in 1941 at a Jesuit theolo-gate in St. Marys, Kansas, where three enterprising faculty members—Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, and Gerald Kelly (later joined by Henry Willmering)—invited their students to edit and publish the papers they wrote as class assignments in what became the early incarnation of this journal which has served the church and religious life proudly for the past 70 years. Richard Smith, Daniel F. X. Meenan, Philip Fischer and David Fleming edited the publi-cation over the subsequent decades. Since Review for Religious was founded at a small theology school, we began exploring the idea that a theology center, rather than the confines of our office, would be a more logical site for the publication of this journal. As we realized that a network of theology centers around the world linked through the Internet could have great potential for producing articles and generating lively discussion, we began exploring that path. We contacted the moderators of Jesuit Conferences that have significant centers of religious formation in Africa, India, and the Asia-Pacific region—in parts of the world Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, Gerald Kelly, Henry Willmering Review for Religious Author • Title 6 where religious life is growing—to see if any of them would have an interest in assuming responsibility for the journal. As a result of our inquiries, we are engaged in a conversa-tion with just such a center about continuing the mission of Review for Religious. We are not looking to replicate the journal as it cur-rently exists, but are talking about re-envisioning and re-designing it with current and future generations of religious in mind. As a result of our discussions and discernment, we have determined that this copy of Review for Religious is the final issue that will be produced by our St. Louis office. Whether the journal remains as a print publication, or is redesigned for delivery on the Internet, or ceases publication altogether is yet to be determined. In the meantime, we are suspending publication and putting a moratorium on renewals or new subscriptions until our discernment is completed. To say that we have reached the end is premature. A hiatus or pause is a more accurate description. As Ron Mercier points out in his article in this issue, a rest is as important a part of a musical score as is a chord or a whole string of arpeggios. And such a time of waiting can be a rich moment. We are not sitting idly while the discussion goes on but are in the process of digitizing our entire collection. We plan to make every article, poem, and book review we have published available on the Internet. It should be an invalu- Richard Smith, Daniel Meenan, Philip Fischer, and David Fleming. 71.1 2012 7 able archive for anyone wishing to research the shifts in religious life during the past 70 years. I am grateful to our current staff: Mary Ann Foppe, who has been the office manager for the past 25 years; Judy Sharp, our receptionist, who has handled subscriptions; Rosemary Jermann, who has written the Bookshelf column; Garth Hallett sj, who has served as Associate Editor; Tracy Gramm, who has done layout and graphic design. I have appreciated Ed Hensell osb, Elizabeth McDonough op, Richard Hill sj, and Joseph Gallen sj, who have provided regular columns over the years, and Jean Read, Iris Ann Ledden ssnd, Regina Siegfried asc, Claire Boehmer asc, Joe Meek, and many oth-ers who have made major behind-the-scenes contri-butions. They have been an excellent staff. We are grateful to the countless number of con-tributors who have sent us manuscripts and poetry for our consideration. They helped us keep our finger on the pulse of religious life. And finally, we thank you, our faithful subscribers. We are grateful for your support, and we trust that we have been an important resource for you over the years. Please read the inside of the back cover of this issue. It contains details about how to keep informed about the progress of our discernment. We will notify each subscriber about the outcome of that discernment. Please pray that the Spirit will lead us to a good conclusion. Michael Harter SJ Rosemary Jermann, Mary Ann Foppe, Tracy Gramm, Judy Sharp and Michael Harter Review for Religious Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? We Are Sent I need to begin with a confession. I was given an assignment to speak about the Eucharist, particularly as it describes a way of life flowing from Weeks Three and Four of the Exercises. I am not an expert on the Spiritual Exercises, but I have been a student of the Eucharist for many decades, so I was happy to think about this topic. And, though the talk was still non-existent, a description had to be prepared for the program booklet. Many of you have prob-ably had the same experience. You make up a description of a talk right out of thin air, hop-ing to be sufficiently generic so you can talk about almost anything at all. kathleen hughes ignatian spirituality 8 Kathleen Hughes rscj, former professor of Word and Worship at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and former provincial of her order's United States prov-ince, is currently a mission consultant in the Network of Sacred Heart Schools. Her address is 541 S. Mason Road; St. Louis, Missouri 63141. 71.1 2012 9 But a funny thing happened to me on the way to the topic assigned. I took a detour. I stumbled onto what I regard as an amazing new insight about how the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises mirror each other. At first I thought I was the last to arrive. Then I checked with those who have far greater familiarity with the literature on the Spiritual Exercises, and no one had heard any reflection on such a topic. That, too, gave me pause and left me wondering how far out on a limb I was climbing. Nevertheless, here's the insight I want to develop in the first part of this talk: there seems to be a quite provocative parallel between the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four-part rhythm of the Eucharist. The gathering rites of the Eucharist include elements of praise and penitence, as are typical of movements in Week One of the Spiritual Exercises; the Liturgy of the Word is the gradual unfolding of the person and work of Jesus Christ, as occurs in Week Two; the Liturgy of the Eucharist, the celebration of Jesus' death for the life of the world, is the heart of Week Three; and the concluding rites of the Eucharist have an affinity with the rhythms of Week Four. In these pages I intend to develop this thesis in more detail, hoping in the process to give fresh insight into God's activity in these two parallel celebrations of the paschal mystery—these two ways we are being caught up in the work of God in Christ. Then I will move to a focus on the Eucharist itself, as it flows from Week Three, incarnates the intimacy of Week Four, and remains the abiding experience of consolation, chal-lenge, and invitation to faithful living, parallel to leav-ing retreat and picking up everyday life. Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 10 Part I: Parallels Overview First, then, before we look at the Four Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises and the four parts of the Eucharist in more detail, let me offer an overview of the resonances I've discovered between them. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises are a series of movements or stages that, negotiated with grace, realize the Christian ideal of identification with Christ. Both are invitations to conversion; both, at their heart, are offers of holi-ness and transformation. Both the Exercises and the Eucharist have a basic psychological rhythm that facili-tates growth in the spiritual life. The Exercises and the Eucharist as we know them only gradually evolved to their present form. The Exercises began as jottings in Ignatius's personal notebook—conso-lations, desolations, graces received—and this collec-tion of insights developed into a practical manual as Ignatius gave them to oth-ers and learned from their experience. They remain a core series of spiritual exercises that are endlessly flexible as enfleshed in the lives of individuals. The Eucharist, too, is the result of a gradual evolution over time around the core of readings and the breaking of bread, making every age and every human commu-nity a fresh inculturation of a basic pattern. Happily, in our day the basic four-part structure of gathering, listening, responding, and sending has been recovered in the liturgical reforms of the Second Vatican Council. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises interrupt our ordinary time with extraordinary grace. 71.1 2012 11 Interestingly, both the Exercises and the Eucharist are filled with words, indeed with dialogue, and with spaces of silence. Both also make appeal to all of our senses and stir up mystagogical insights in those who are attentive. Both the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises interrupt our ordinary time with extraordinary grace; they help us to make sense of our life as it is unfolding before the living God. And both the Eucharist and the Exercises send us to live, in deed, what we have just experienced in this time of encounter with the divine. Finally, both these patterns of prayer follow, for most of us, familiar and predictable dynamics and so, for each, we need the grace to pay attention, to move beyond the familiar in order to get inside the mysteries. The First Week and the Gathering Rites of the Eucharist We come to retreat or to Eucharist just as we are, and we bring our history and our particular world with us into this sacred time and place. We come, sometimes breathlessly, from the work we have just left behind and the preoccupations that fill our minds and hearts. We come always with unfinished business and with distrac-tions, even burdens, of body and spirit. We come with our crosses and our inexhaustible needs. We come because we are drawn to a time and space of intimacy and prayer, of encounter with the Lord who will tutor our hearts, of transformation to new and deeper life. We come to be nourished. We come remembering God's goodness and God's fidelity to us, no matter our own response. We come hoping to touch our finger to the flame once again, placing ourselves, for this span of time, on holy ground. God's unconditional and ever-faithful love perme-ates our awareness in Week One. Each one of us has Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 12 been blessed with divine life; God's creative activity has showered each of us in unique ways and has supported and sustained us throughout our lives. In face of the immense goodness of God, we acknowledge our inade-quate response; we know that sin has hindered our rela-tionships with self and others and, above all, with God. Week One provides the opportunity to recognize sin as our failure to respond with love to God always present, to express our own sorrow and repentance, and then to know God's ever-greater love, mercy, and forgiveness. We reflect on our lives in light of God's boundless love for us, knowing that God wants to free us of everything that gets in the way of a loving response. The focus is less on particular sins than on our relationship with God that has been damaged, perhaps even shattered. Yet it is a relationship always available, for God longs for intimacy with us far more than we could ask or even imagine. Our personal history gives us hope: God is filled with mercy and compassion, slow to anger, full of kindness. God's response to our repentance is mercy and forgiveness. By the end of the First Week, we know ourselves as sinners, loved and rescued by a God who is so much greater than our hearts. These same heart movements are present in the gathering rites of the Eucharist. We generally begin the celebration with a hymn of praise and thanksgiving. We are then invited into a time of silence before the liv-ing God, and we cannot but realize our unworthiness and our experience of sin. In the language of the new Missal we own our complicity in sin "through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault," and we join with one another in begging for mercy and for-giveness: "Lord, have mercy." Then the Gloria is our hymn of praise after the words of absolution: "May 71.1 2012 13 almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to life everlasting. Amen." We begin the Eucharist knowing ourselves as loved sinners, disposed to open our hearts to the word proclaimed in our midst. There are two additional striking parallels between the First Week of the Exercises and the gathering rites of Eucharist. The first has to do with the cross of Christ, for the cross is prominent at the beginning of both experiences. The retreatant is invited to make a first meditation before the cross; similarly, when we gather for the Eucharist, the entrance procession places the cross at the very beginning of the celebration. There is nothing like the cross of Christ to sharpen our focus, to bring us to the sober reality that relationships have consequences, that the paschal mystery of Jesus' life, death, and rising is what has made it possible to draw near to the throne of grace. And here's a second intriguing possibility with the Eucharist. There is a presidential prayer at the conclu-sion of the entrance rites, another at the preparation of the table and the gifts, and a third after Communion. These are all, essentially, prayers of petition; they each ask for a specific grace that is dependent for its focus on the place of the prayer in the rite. We really could think of these prayers as "preludes" that name and ask for a specific grace as we move from one week to the next, from one part of the Eucharist to the next. For example, the opening prayer for today's liturgy, the Seventeenth Sunday, Year A, from icel's Missal of 1998, reads: God of eternal wisdom, You alone impart the gift of right judgment. Grant us an understanding heart that we may value wisely the treasure of your kingdom Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 14 and gladly forego all lesser gifts to possess that kingdom's incomparable joy. We make our prayer through Our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit God for ever and ever. Amen.1 What a perfect presidential prayer to open our hearts to the Word of God; what a perfect prelude to move to Week Two of the Exercises. The Second Week and the Liturgy of the Word The parallels between the Second Week of the Exercises and the Liturgy of the Word are easily dis-cernible. Both focus on the scriptures, and both invite decision; both are grounded in the Gospels and in the Mystery who is Christ; both the Spiritual Exercises and the Liturgy of the Word, over time, offer an intimate encounter with Jesus of Nazareth—healing, teaching, sharing meals, welcoming sinners, going about doing good, spending the night in union with his Abba, gath-ering disciples and forming their hearts. We reflect on scripture passages, in retreat as at Mass, one after another, not in order to know the scriptures better but to discover ever more fully the One whom they disclose to us. During the Second Week of the Exercises, like Martha's sister, Mary, the retreatant sits at the feet of Jesus, the teacher, drawn to his person, absorbing his attitudes and values, his choices, his preaching of the dream of God for the world, for humankind, for each of us. The Second Week, of course, is not full only of the consolation of spending time with a dear friend. That 71.1 2012 15 dear friend of ours also reveals to us the cost of dis-cipleship, the misunderstandings, the disappointments, the gathering storm of criticism and anger. We take in the whole of the life of Jesus Christ and are drawn to know him more intimately, to love him more ardently, and to follow him more faithfully. We choose to be dis-ciples of the perfect disciple. Empowered by the love of God experienced in Week One and by Jesus' friendship, which deepens for us in Week Two, we choose an ever closer relationship with him, no matter what. Loved sin-ners become loving servants, embracing and following Jesus, setting our faces, with him, to Jerusalem. It has been written that during the Second Week "We find ourselves drinking in the experiences of Jesus, so that we begin to assimilate his values, his loves, his freedom. This style of praying provides the necessary content of decision-making or discernment, which forms an essential part of the Second Week and is meant to be an abiding part of a Christian's life that is shaped by the Exercises."2 Of course, those statements also describe a regu-lar pattern of solitary prayer in daily life that reaches its summit in the Eucharist. God speaks to our hearts, opening up for us the mystery of redemption and salva-tion and offering us spiritual nourishment; Christ him-self is present in the midst of the community through the Word proclaimed.3 The cycle of readings, highlighting first one evange-list's portrait of Christ and then another's in the three-year cycle, invites our reflection on the life and ministry of Jesus, his proclamation of the Good News, his say-ings and parables, his teachings and miracles, and, espe-cially during Lent and the triduum, how his face was set to Jerusalem during his last days on earth. The Gospel is the highpoint of the Liturgy of the Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 16 Word, and we mark it with various signs of reverence for the book and with the tracing of the cross on our forehead, lips, and breast, praying that our mind be opened, that our words be true, and that our whole being be exposed to the consolation and the challenge of a Gospel way of life. The homily follows. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal describes the homily as a necessary source of nourishment of the Christian life.4 In fact, for a majority of Christians it is often the only source of spir-itual nourishment in a busy week. The Second Week of the Exercises illuminates the challenge to those who give the homily in the Eucharist. The point of the hom-ily is identical to the grace sought in Week Two of the Exercises, namely, to enable the assembly to know Jesus more intimately, to love him more ardently and to follow him more faithfully. Nothing less! Not entertainment. Not exegesis. Not personal self-disclosure. Nothing less than knowing, loving, and following Christ, choosing his choices, becoming gradually and almost imperceptibly more like him, putting on his mind and heart. Just as one chooses discipleship at the end of Week Two, so too there is a choice at the end of the Liturgy of the Word. As we prepare to move from the Table of God's Word to the Table of the Lord's Supper, we join ourselves to Christ and ask that we too be transformed every bit as much as the bread and the wine, that we and they may become for us and for our world the Body and Blood of Christ. The Third Week and the Liturgy of the Eucharist The focus of Week Three is both the Last Supper and the Passion. So, too, these two themes are conflated in the Liturgy of the Eucharist: "the Sacrifice of the 71.1 2012 17 Cross and its sacramental renewal in the Mass, which Christ the Lord instituted at the Last Supper and com-manded the apostles to do in his memory, are one and the same, differing only in the manner of offering, and . . . consequently the Mass is at once a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, of propitiation and satisfaction."5 The first meditation of the Exercises in Week Three is on the Last Supper in its entirety—including the preparations, the choice of place, the arrangements for the meal, the assembling in the upper room, Christ's washing of the apostles' feet, the supper itself, Christ's giving of his body and blood in Eucharist as the ultimate expression of his love for them, and his final words, his last will and testament, that they continue this same action in his memory. Much of this finds a resonance in the Liturgy of the Eucharist. There is, of course, first the preparation of the table and the gifts, the preparation of the altar itself and then of the offerings of bread and wine. There is the washing of the hands of the presider, a ritual of cleansing and interior purification in readiness for all that will follow. There is the prayer over the gifts, a simple and focused petition—a second "prelude," if you will, asking in a variety of ways that the gifts we have placed on the table will become holy and that we our-selves will be caught up in this action and be made holy to the praise and glory of God. Then the great prayer of praise and thanksgiving, the Eucharistic Prayer, begins. We tell the story of Jesus' life, death, and rising. We enter into Christ's liturgy, the endless self-giving of Christ into the hands of the One he called Abba, from whom he receives back his life. Our worship is an offering of our whole selves with and in Christ to God. That is our participation in the paschal Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 18 mystery of Christ's obedience unto death, our identifica-tion with Christ in his radical obedience to God. Have you ever used one of the Eucharistic Prayers for your meditation during Week Three? The Eucharistic Prayer is addressed to God the Father. Could we not think of it as a colloquy with the One Jesus called Abba, our own intimate conversation with God, as we ponder the mystery of the Passion? By turns, the Eucharistic Prayer "collo-quy" offers thanksgiving to God for the whole work of salvation realized in Christ; it implores the action of God's transforming Spirit; it tells the story again of the night before Jesus died when he offered his body and blood, gave the apostles to eat and drink, and left them a command to perpetuate this mystery; it recalls the events that fol-lowed the supper, especially the blessed Passion of Christ together with his victory over sin and death; it makes an offering to God not only of the spotless victim but of our-selves so that day by day we might be perfected through Christ the mediator and be brought into unity with God and with each other when God may be all in all.6 It is a perfect prayer; it is a perfect condensed statement of what we believe and what we long for; it is a colloquy, if you will, that gathers up and gives expression to the faith of the community in Jesus' salvific death and rising and our par-ticipation in that mystery. There is no better word at the end of the Eucharistic Prayer, or at the end of our Third Week meditation on the Passion as we dwell in the silence of God, than the word "Amen." So be it. Week Four and the Communion and Concluding Rites We are ready for Week Four—Jesus' resurrection and his apparitions to his mother, to the women, to the disciples, to Mary in the garden. Always the message is 71.1 2012 19 the same: do not be afraid; peace be with you; go now and tell the good news; go now to feed my lambs. And as peace is the gift of the Risen One, we beg that same peace for the whole human family, and we ask for mutual love among ourselves. We approach the table of the Lord and receive the one Bread of Life, which is Christ who died and rose for the salva-tion of the world. Our Communion makes us one with the Risen Christ, and the last presidential prayer, the prayer after Communion, is a final "prelude"—a peti-tion that we might go forth and live, in deed, what we have just done in word and ritual action. "Please make this Communion take!" this prayer seems to beg. We become what we eat. Through the Communions of our lifetime we are gradually being transformed into God. We know that we ourselves and our world have been radically changed by Jesus' resurrection, and we embrace his commission to become the Heart of God on earth. In contemplating the love of God in the conclud-ing exercise of Week Four, we pray an intimate prayer of thanksgiving to the One who has shared his life so completely with us that we are filled with gratitude and with a desire to make a generous return of love. "Take, Lord, receive," we say, and in so doing we express our availability before God for whatever we will face, rely-ing simply and completely on God's grace. We know ourselves as blessed and sent. Thus far I have been developing the ways that the Eucharist and the Spiritual Exercises mirror and some-times illuminate aspects of each other. As a transition to the second part of this reflection, I suggest pausing over the words of the "Anima Christi" using David Fleming's translation. It was David who said that this prayer is a summary of the dynamics of the whole movement Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 20 of the Exercises, and he also described the prayer as a summary of the transformation wrought through the Eucharist. Jesus, may all that is you flow into me. May your body and blood be my food and drink. May your passion and death be my strength and life. Jesus, with you by my side enough has been given. May the shelter I seek be the shadow of your cross. Let me not run from the love which you offer, but hold me safe from the forces of evil. On each of my dyings shed your light and your love. Keep calling to me until that day comes, when, with your saints, I may praise you forever. Amen.7 Part II: Living the Eucharist David Fleming also called the "Anima Christi" a summary of the living of the Fourth Week in the everyday, so it is to that topic we turn, the living of the Eucharist. Many years ago I read a book by Gregory Dix called The Shape of the Liturgy, a very long, very erudite history of the Eucharist by an Anglican clergyman and liturgi-cal scholar. At the conclusion, around page seven hun-dred something, the author shifts from liturgical history, archeology, and philology to spirituality. He quotes the words of Jesus at the Last Supper, "Do this in memory of me," and then poses an intriguing question: Was ever another command so obeyed? Dix paints an extraordinary picture: Century after century, spreading slowly to every continent and country, to every race on earth, this action of Eucharist has been carried out in every conceivable human circumstance and for every conceivable human need, from the heights of 71.1 2012 21 power to places of poverty and need, for royalty at their crowning and for criminals going to the scaffold, for a bride and bridegroom in a little country church, for the wisdom for the Parliament of a mighty nation, for a sick old woman afraid to die, for Columbus setting out to discover the New World, for a barren couple hoping for a child, by an old monk on the fiftieth anniversary of his vows, and on and on. Dix lyrically enumerates these and scores of other instances in which the Christian com-munity has been faithful to Jesus' command, "Do this."8 Over the centuries the Eucharist has been celebrated by innumerable millions of entirely obscure faithful women and men like you and me, people with hopes and fears and joys and sorrows and sins and temptations and prayers every bit as vivid and alive as yours and mine are now. Week by week, on a hundred thousand succes-sive Sundays, faithfully, unfailingly, the followers of Jesus have done just this for the remembrance of him.9 This is an extraordinary picture of the sacrament that constitutes the community, of the event that binds us together, one with another and with Christians of every age, place, race, tongue, and way of life. The Eucharist has been like a wave of grace rolling over the community again and again across the centuries of Christendom, hollowing out spaces for the divine in the midst of the everyday. Was ever another command so obeyed? But after pondering Dix, I realized that when I con-sidered that Last Supper of Jesus and his friends, there was another question on my mind. When Jesus said "do this in remembrance of me," what did he mean by the this? Surely not just the Jewish pattern of the meal, though we know a lot about Jewish rituals, the blessing of bread, the number of cups, the style of blessing said over both. Surely the this is something more. What are Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 22 we being asked to do? to be? to embrace? to celebrate? What commitment do we make when we say "Amen"? Scripture supplies two directions toward an answer: one in the Synoptic accounts of the supper and Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, and the other in the Gospel of John. Recall the words of Paul describing the Last Supper: I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, "This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me" (1 Cor 11:23-25). Do this in remembrance of me. But what is the this? Have you ever considered that the Last Supper was precisely that—it was the last. The Last Supper was the last of a whole series of Jesus' meals recorded in the Scriptures. Jesus never played the pious ascetic, keep-ing away from celebrations. He loved a good feast. He used that image of feasting as a metaphor of the reign of God—a great banquet. It was said of him, "This man is a glutton and a drunkard." An even more shocking accusa-tion was whispered behind his back: "This man sits down at table with sinners, with the morally dubious, with the outcasts of society, with those living on the fringes." On nearly every page of the Gospels there is a meal or a reference to food. Jesus calls out to Zacchaeus, "Get down from that tree. I'm coming to your house for What commitment do we make when we say "Amen"? 71.1 2012 23 lunch." There is the story of Simon who threw a din-ner party but was an inattentive host, and of the woman who slipped in to minister to Jesus as he sat at Simon's table. There is the story of Peter's mother-in-law who is cured only to get up and wait on them. There is the Syrophoenician woman who would not take no for an answer, who spoke about crumbs that fell from the table and who expected—and received—more than crumbs from this man. There are the feeding miracles that tell us something of the utter lavishness of the banquet and that everyone will receive enough and there will still be something left over for another day. There are parables of feasts, of great abundance, of jockeying for places at table, of appropriate attire, of filling the room with those drawn from the highways and the byways. Even the risen appearances of Jesus include meals. "Peace be with you," Jesus says. "What's for dinner?" On the shore, in the upper room, on the way to Emmaus, they recognize him in the breaking of the bread. How do you recognize someone? Even at a distance, you rec-ognize the timbre of a voice, or a particular gesture, or the slight tilt of the head so characteristic of an indi-vidual. The disciples recognized Jesus for what was most characteristic of him: the way he broke the bread. What is the this that we are to replicate? It is the whole life and ministry of Jesus at table. Scripture scholars refer to this as Jesus' ministry of table fellow-ship. To share food, in Semitic times, was to share life itself. And Jesus shared life with an astonishing assort-ment of people. Everyone was welcome to sit with him at table, to tell stories and to break the bread. Jesus' ministry of table fellowship is a ministry of universal reconciliation, no exceptions. The Last Supper reca-pitulated the attitudes and values of Jesus, who opened Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 24 his table and his heart to everyone, who offered hospi-tality to all, who was himself at home with all manner of people, who knew the human need for nourishment of body, mind, and spirit and who was always present to the other—welcoming, reconciling, offering life. Do this in memory of me. The Gospel of John offers a second answer to the question "What is the this?" In John there is a very dif-ferent institution narrative. It is the account of the foot washing. We know the story so well. Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper, laid aside his garments, and girded himself with a towel. He poured water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel. Peter resisted this tenderness until Jesus pressed: "If I do not wash you, you have no part with me." Peter relented in typical Peter fashion: "Not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" When Jesus had com-pleted the washing and resumed his place, he said to them, "Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you" (Cf. Jn 13:1-15). You should do as I have done. In other words, "Do this in memory of me." I had an experience when I was studying at the University of Notre Dame that colors my understand-ing of the washing of the feet after the manner of Jesus. Notre Dame has a reputation for the excellence of its liturgical studies program and, at least when I was there, for the perfection of its liturgical celebrations: every 71.1 2012 25 minister rehearsed; every detail on a checklist; every liturgy perfect. And, during the sacred triduum, the lit-urgies were even more perfect! It was Holy Thursday and time for the foot washing. Twelve people moved forward, probably having prepared for the foot wash-ing by carefully washing their feet! Then, seemingly from nowhere, a very unkempt man started up the aisle, staggering a bit, perhaps under the weather. It was one of those stunning moments. Time stood still. Then the deacon walked down the aisle to help the man for-ward and assist him in taking off his shoes and socks. What is the this? Tender and loving care for the other; accepting our mutual vulnerabilities; choosing to open our hearts to all, even the one staggering into our life and upsetting its plans and perfections. Foot washing is not just a way of life but an attitude of heart, a kneeling before the other in reverence. Foot washing is embrac-ing a way of service after the manner of Jesus, simply, generously, not counting the cost. Do this: Embrace my attitudes and values as your own. Love those I love, and be my heart to them. Welcome the stranger, the one on the margins, the disenfranchised. Become vulnerable with one another. Kneel in reverence, especially before those whom soci-ety shuns. Nourish one another's bodies and spirits. Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep, both here at home and half a world away— those in Norway who are paralyzed by a massacre they Foot washing is not just a way of life but an attitude of heart, a kneeling before the other in reverence Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 26 could never have imagined, those who are starving from the drought in Africa, those who are terrified of nuclear contamination in Japan, those who are caught up in trafficking around the globe or denied asylum here at home, those who have lost the ones they love and all they owned in fire, flood, tornado, or earthquake. Make a habit of roaming the globe in prayer so that you do not remain distant from the joys and pain of the world. Send those waves of grace once again across continents and cultures to bathe our world in the love and mercy of Eucharist. Do this in memory of me. Conclusion Week Three invites us to experience the Last Supper, to place ourselves there in the upper room, to look around at the faces, to listen to the words, to pon-der them in our hearts as we watch the immense tender-ness of the Lord with those he loved even to the end, whose hearts he was tutoring even on the night before he died. And we have stayed with him, watched and prayed with him, and accompanied him as he gave up his life. Then we have simply dwelt in silence. That same intimacy and presence to one another marks Week Four, a time of tenderness and affection with the risen Jesus who shares his love and his joy with us but does not let us cling to him. He sends us as apostles, empowered by his Spirit, to continue his sav-ing presence, to be his heart on earth. And day by day, week by week, the Eucharist con-tinues to draw us into these mysteries. The heart of the Eucharist is Jesus Christ. The heart of it is the cel-ebration of Jesus' life, death, and rising every time we gather—and the merging of our daily living and dying with his and with one another—for the life of the world. 71.1 2012 27 The heart of it is joining ourselves to Christ, the perfect sacrifice, to the praise and glory of God. The heart of it is begging that the Spirit will transform each one of us just as really as the bread and wine so that we become more and more Christ's Body in truth, not just in name. The heart of it is learning over and over again to say "Amen" to all of these realities and—at least some-times— actually meaning it. Meaning "Amen," meaning yes I will try to live, in deed, in the coming days, what we have just enacted in word and ritual action. I conclude with a favorite reflection of mine on the word "Amen." Be careful of simple words said often. "Amen" makes demands like an unrelenting schoolmaster: fierce attention to all that is said; no apathy, no preoccupation, no prejudice permitted. "Amen": We are present. We are open. We hearken. We understand. Here we are; we are listening to your word. "Amen" makes demands like a signature on a dotted line: sober bond to all that goes before; no hesitation, no half-heartedness, no mental reservation allowed. "Amen": We support. We approve. We are of one mind. We promise. May this come to pass. So be it. Be careful when you say "Amen."10 Notes 1 Cf. Sunday Celebration of the Word and Hours (Ottawa: Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1995). This book contains the Sunday collects prepared by the International Committee on English in the Liturgy for the Missal of 1998, since withdrawn. Review for Religious Hughes • Were Not Our Hearts Burning within Us? 28 2 David L. Fleming sj, "The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises: Understanding a Dynamic," in Notes on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1981) 11. 3 General Instruction of the Roman Missal, 2003, §29, paraphrase. 4 GIRM, § 65. 5 GIRM, § 9. 6 GIRM, § 79. 7 David L. Fleming sj, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading. (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978) 3. 8 Gregory Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy (London: Dacre Press, 1945) 744-5, passim. 9 Ibid. paraphrase. 10 Barbara Schmich Searle, "Ritual Dialogue," Assembly 7:3, February, 1981. Obedience You have had my yes for years– and I have had yours since the sun, the seashells, and the storms at sea. But now, ah . . . you and I are more than yes. As time moves with, within, and around, this yes of ours takes on wings, takes on colors I never imagined, challenges that strengthen and soften me, glory that stills me, stirs me, extends and opens me. It becomes a murmur of love that we share. Love that frees me and compels me to choose you again and yet again . . . that I might respond as I wish to respond . . . openly, knowingly, even a little mysteriously . . . as the bush in the desert responded to flame. Kimberly M. King rscj 71.1 2012 ronald mercier 29 Without the Drama: The Transition from Third to Fourth Week of the Spiritual Exercises S travinsky's "Rite of Spring" caused a furor when it was first performed in 1913, but the more I listen to it, the more I think it expresses something important, and not only from a musical point of view. At the tail end of the piece, the "Sacrifice," Stravinsky tries to cap-ture the human spirit in its "pagan"—pure—form. You might want to find a recording of it and play it before you read further. Cacophony—there's no other way to describe it! Bad sound. It assaults the senses. It builds to a crescendo and with the violence of spirit that leads to the sacrifice of a human, a woman who dances herself to death for the Ronald Mercier sj is associate professor of theology at Saint Louis University and rector of the community where Jesuit scholastics pursue the study of philosophy and theology. This article was originally given as a keynote presentation at Ignatian Spirituality Conference V on July 22, 2011, in St. Louis, Missouri. Comments can be addressed to him at Bellarmine House of Studies; 3737 Westminster Place; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 30 sake of the community. It is violence that can kill and wound and send to hell, to use Ignatius's words from the Incarnation meditation. In the ballet that goes with the music, there is a frenetic dance that is almost a form of madness. No wonder people were so challenged by the music; this is not about some nice ethereal enjoyment, but is a revelation of what can shape the human heart and actions. This revelation opens to our fears but not to our hopes. Curiously, the music ends with a bang, a loud discor-dant chord that leaves us waiting for something more. We would like some kind of resolution at this point, but we are left with utter silence after that dramatic end. We wait, but the music just ends. Or does it? For me, this piece leads to a reflection on the transition from the Third to the Fourth Week in the Ignatian Exercises, a movement out of a murderous drama into a disorienting grand silence within which the Fourth Week dawns. I would like to invite you to sit with Ignatius in what we would name "Holy Saturday," a place he sketches as the space for contemplation within which we experience Resurrection. My thesis is simple: Without the grand silence of Holy Saturday, the "seventh day" for Ignatius, we do not experience the joy and freedom of the Fourth Week. Waiting in the transition—a transition into, not out of, emptiness—allows for creation of the space into which the Risen Lord comes, if we let the quiet ripen. The music of Stravinsky captures the movement of the Third Week, a drama of human making. We walk with Jesus as he experiences being sacrificed for "the good of the people." Curiously, Ignatius invites us to experience the Passion, but he does not describe the gore that would have been standard fare in the spiritual-ity of his time. No doubt he assumed that people knew 71.1 2012 31 the specifics of the passion, crucifixion, and death from the religious imagination of his time. I wonder, though, whether that is all. It strikes me that we are invited into two spaces: the fullness of the world upon which the Trinity gazes in the Incarnation mediation, but also the reality of the Trinity's desire effected through what happens in these moments. In this transition, we fulfill the movement of the Incarnation meditation. Ignatius certainly invites us to "consider what Christ our Lord suffers in His human nature . . . [and] to strive to grieve, be sad, and weep" (SpEx §195). We "must be with the Lord in his suffering, [and] follow him unto his death," lest we be "simply spectators at a Passion event which may be very touching, but which in no way dis-turbs the egotism of our lives,"1 as Gilles Cusson so nicely puts it. We experience with Jesus what human egotism can do, the dramatic clash that seeks sacrifice to maintain some order. Ignatius's contemplation of the Passion has little to do with Mel Gibson's hero worship; we con-template one who embraces utter powerlessness, not "muscular humanity." Yet, Cusson also says that we need to attend to Ignatius's Fifth Point, "how the divinity hides itself; . . . it could destroy . . . but does not do so" (SpEx §196). What is God about in Christ? What goes beyond the "work of our hands," the murderous sacrifice, and actu-ally effects the will of the Trinity? Is God violent? Is We contemplate one who embraces utter powerlessness, not "muscular humanity." Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 32 this the "divinity [who] hides"? Or is the violent god our god? What occurs when our dramatic violence ends? For me, personally and as a director, this question is never academic. The temptation to remain specta-tors or to wonder at the horrors of the Passion—and so to remain distant from it and from the Resurrection— always presents itself as a path of light, as "really feeling bad" for Jesus, and perhaps knowing real (even mur-derous) anger toward those who create perverse tor-tures for him. The experi-ence of the Fourth Week then somehow appears too remote, not surprisingly, and not only because by that time we know the exhaustion of having given ourselves so radically to prayer. But if we remain spectators of the Passion, what also becomes remote is the real joy of the Fourth Week, a joy so different from the transient happiness that we may whip up but never suffices for the long-term journey. And the Fourth Week is really for the long haul, not transient at all. What alternative remains? Consider for a moment where Ignatius leads us. As he did in the contemplation on the Incarnation, he places us with the work of the Trinity and with Mary. This gives us our transition point and deserves some pause. Notice how he frames our prayer at the end of the week, the time of transition: One should consider as frequently as possible . . . that the most Sacred Body of Christ our Lord remained If we remain spectators of the Passion, what also becomes remote is the real joy of the Fourth Week. 71.1 2012 33 separated from the soul, and the place and manner of his burial. Let [the exercitant] consider, likewise, the desolation of our Lady, her great sorrow and weariness, and also that of the disciples (SpEx §208, Seventh Day). Two dimensions frame the time after the death of Jesus on the cross, two movements that invite us into a depth within which resurrection happens: the experi-ence of death in Jesus and its impact on those (like us) who love him. Resurrection, Cusson rightly suggests, never becomes a topic for consideration, but encounters us in and through the one whom we love and who has conquered death, a "confirmation from above surpass-ing all human hope."2 Let us stay, though, for a moment with the two aspects Ignatius gives us not so much as a conclusion to the Third Week as the door through which the Third Week becomes, or opens to, the Fourth Week. We have in the Christian tradition a powerful sense that the Paschal Mystery—the death, coming to the dead, and Resurrection of the Lord—never constitutes the past, something complete and over, but, rather, remains the context of our lives, the place of our ministries, the space within which joy dawns for us and for all who know the Risen Lord. Two things, then, shape this contemplation, which really becomes the shape of "the seventh day," a con-templation of the Passion as a whole. First, Ignatius begs us to consider the fullness of the death of Jesus because, without an experience of that fullness, we really cannot complete the journey of the Third Week (and of the Incarnation) or comprehend the fullness of the ways in which Jesus' ministry touches and shapes our lives and our world. We need to ponder, prayerfully, what it Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 34 means for Jesus to "remain separated from his soul," to know death, not just to "be killed." Let me suggest that this consideration never rep-resents some thought exercise or parlor game. In our culture we often trivialize death and, in fact, avoid the topic completely or paper it over with euphemisms. We do not say that people die, but that they "pass away." We make the reality so antiseptic, so unreal, that we actually generate a fear of death that drives us even to try to con-trol it, like some unruly passion. Humans have always feared death, as the social critic Ernst Becker makes clear. In our modern North American culture, though, we have created a kind of nightmare; we rarely encoun-ter the reality of someone's dying. Even worse, people have to die not freely as Jesus did, but alone, caught up in our medicalized model. Alternatively, we can make death into a mere video game: how many can we kill? By contrast, Ignatius invites us to a thoroughgoing realism. In Jesus' death, we contemplate the fullness of his human death, freely embraced for us, the fullness of the trajectory of the Incarnation. We are invited to consider especially his embrace of abandonment. Hans Urs von Balthasar, the great Swiss theologian and pro-foundly Ignatian thinker, asks us to ponder just what this means, as a path toward hope: The Redeemer showed himself therefore as the only one who, going beyond the general experience of death, was able to measure the depths of that abyss.3 Think about that with me for just a moment. For Balthasar (and here he places himself in the whole strand of Christian mystics) we desire to shield our-selves from death. We may have "the general experience of death," but we seek to hold it at bay, often at great cost. No one wants to die, of course, and from time 71.1 2012 35 immemorial we have created lovely myths of "afterlife" as ways of avoiding the fullness of what we would expe-rience in death, so that we do not really die. Instead, Ignatius invites us, in the wake of the cry by which Jesus freely gives up his spirit and accepts death, to consider what it would mean for someone freely and fully to enter into the realm of Hades, of Sheol, in which, as the psalmist says, "no one can praise You." In Jesus, God goes fully to claim the reality of human death and dying as God's very own. Balthasar uses the image of the abyss—a wonderful image—for this. We need to ponder, not morosely but in faith, the full tra-jectory of the Third Week. Ignatius places us there and asks that during the Seventh Day—however long it might be—we continually call that reality to mind and keep it before us. He invites us there in place of repetitions or Applications of the Senses, because in pon-dering the fullness of the death of Jesus, in letting it "ripen to fullness," as it were, we begin to grasp the fullness of what it means that he dies for our sake, that he goes where we would not go. If, as David Fleming, John Futrell, John English and many others suggest, the Last Supper sets the tone for the Third Week, here we know what it means to "be broken and poured out," even to the fullness of death itself. We have been praying for the grace of freedom throughout the Exercises, and in a sense here we encounter freedom in its fullness. Balthasar notes what freedom—in its purest form, free from all stain of sin—would mean: "And precisely in that did his mortal anguish and God-abandonment differ radically from the habitual anxiety of the sinner." 4 Jesus freely—and with-out defense—walks the way ahead of us, embraces our path. Jesus claims the fullness of death as a space within Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 36 which to meet us—thus, the implication of the seventh-day exercise. We can—and do—often hurry by the real-ity, or simply marvel at the wreck of a corpse in the Pietà. Ignatius, according to Balthasar, invites us to let death be full, that we might know freedom with Christ, freedom for our mission ultimately, freedom to love "even to death itself." No masochism or delectatio morosa marks this moment, but only a profound invitation to explore what we fear with the One who has gone the way before us. For Ignatius, that remains key. If Resurrection cannot grasp the fullness of what death means, if it can-not meet us in the anxiety that would hold us bound and create the kind of craziness that marks our death-obsessed culture, it remains but a "nice idea," easily dis-pensed with, perhaps. For Balthasar, Jesus delves into death as abandonment, freely, without losing hope, but relying completely on the God who alone can overcome death. Imagine "separation of soul and body" in its totality, without the experience of Resurrection that often shields us. Jesus embraces that. This descent remains but part of the story for Ignatius, since he invites us to place ourselves with Mary and the disciples in their desolation—an impor-tant context. The imagery of that placement reveals a deliberate quality in two ways: it prepares us to encoun-ter the Risen Lord and accept our mission. In one sense, of course, we explore the same space as previously, explore what it means for Jesus to have died—but now from the perspectives of those left behind. Again, Ignatius invites us to contemplate with Mary—and to some extent with Mary Magdalene—to share space and time with women who also embrace the "empty space" without defense, freely. The sinlessness of Mary parallels Jesus' own condition, and invites us 71.1 2012 37 to imagine how she, whose heart knew only openness, would experience the "separation" of soul from body. In her once again, Ignatius asks us to confront death as death, in its fullness in Jesus, in one whom we pas-sionately love. While I will focus on the encounter with Mary, the mother of Jesus, as a basic form of the Resurrection con-templations, I do not mean to suggest that one must force people to engage that path. Eventually the pattern of the Exercises does lead us there, but as John English suggests in Spiritual Freedom,5 a directee may find it difficult to enter into the purity of Mary's openness to encounter the Risen Lord; a person may find more fruitful prayer with the grief of Mary Magdalene, or the guilt of Simon Peter, or others. Still, the fullness of that openness to the Risen Lord brings us back to the full "yes" of Mary, mother of Jesus, as a paradigm of freedom. We have probably all known a parent who has lost a beloved child. As I write this I cannot help but think of the parents of a young Chinese student who failed at university and chose suicide in the face of despair. I cannot begin to imagine the grief of soul such a moment would entail for those parents; nor can I imagine the added burden of feeling guilt for having laid on a child expectations that he could not fulfill. That empty space of a dead child shocks us; "it should not happen," we say quite rightly. Parents should die before their children do. The empty space becomes almost too much to take in, though with Michelangelo's Pietà we catch a glimpse of how a face might appear when gazing on that emptiness. Yet, for the director at this point in the Exercises, especially in the face of what happens in the transition, an important distinction remains. Monty Williams, in a work in progress that he shared with me, advises that we Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 38 note two different paths as one encounters fear, notably the fear of death. There are two ways of being present to our fears. We could look at them and wonder how we can be so stupid, and then make the plans . . . to ensure those mistakes never happen again. . . . The other way . . . is to experience the amazement. . . . The more we ponder . . . it, the more we are filled with a sense of wonder—which gives no answer. That wonder, that sense of amazement, is our first awareness of the presence of God in the space we have created by looking at our fears. As Williams frames it, two choices remain. We can panic and move into flight or analysis or simply an excess of emotions to make us feel better. Or we can be attentive, in the face of such fears, to an empty space without answers—a much harder place to be. When Ignatius invites us to contemplate, to recall Mary, all of those spaces we have known in the Second Week come to mind. Mary remains for us always the one who attends, who does not withdraw, even in the face of the horror of the slaughter of the innocents, but who pon-ders. The path of our entry into the Seventh Day parallels Mary's path, and a director looks at whether the exerci-tant gets caught up in his or her own pain or can ponder the empty space with Mary—that dreadful emptiness the church hints at in stripped altars and empty tabernacles after the Good Friday service. With Mary, we hear the invitation in freedom to know our beloved Jesus as dead. A terrible space, but not a maudlin one! We hear the call to compassion, to attentiveness, to let an empty space open. In essence, Michelangelo's Pietà invites us not to wild grieving but to face the reality of Mary holding her dead son. Attentiveness is a state of waiting, but for what? 71.1 2012 39 I can't help but remember Mary Oliver's powerful poem "The Uses of Sorrow," which captures so much of what I think Ignatius presents to us in constructing a place for prayer: (In my sleep I dreamed this poem) Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.6 The poem admirably catches the difference between panic/analysis and attentiveness as ways of responding to the human—and here divine—reality of death. For us the path takes time; Ignatius invites us on the seventh day to recall this to mind again and again, but the full process may well be the journey of our lives and our dying. However, contemplating the loss of Jesus is but one dimension. With Mary—and with the disciples—we are invited to ponder the world in which, as Cleopas said, "we had hoped" but which is now a space of desolation. We face the fullness of what Ignatius means when he invites the retreatant to see and consider the Three Divine Persons. . . . They look down upon the whole surface of the earth and behold all nations in great blindness, going down to death and descending into hell (SpEx §106). The reality of human violence is seen in its full-ness in this moment, especially when, with the disciples, we see that violence is also part of their lives—in their abandoning their Master. With Mary and them, the full brutality of violence in the name of God, yet murder-ous of God, comes home to us in all its savagery. No doubt they had seen or heard of crucifixion before. This Roman "tool" helped maintain fear in the populace by destroying its memory of the one killed, lest anyone else Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 40 attempt to do what the crucified one had done. We can all rationalize human cruelty to suit our purposes. Here, though, their Master, Lord, Mentor, the one who healed, raised from the dead, preached Good News—the one they loved—becomes the victim of such cruelty. With him, the hope he had proclaimed also becomes a victim, exactly as the Romans would have desired. Hope is too dangerous a drug to a people fac-ing death. Is the reality of what Cleopas proclaimed— that "we had hoped"—also dead? With Mary and the disciples, we gaze on the empty space in the wake of the cross, and we know the dying of our hopes, of the ways in which all of our plans and expectations go to the cross with Jesus. Our history, our world, hangs in that balance. As director, how often have I sat with people who, in the wake of Jesus' death and burial, have to encounter again their own history of violence—received, experienced in others, commit-ted! The call to attentiveness in this space where our wounded history is made so evident places the past and the future in the balance. If in the first movement with Jesus and Mary we know the fear before death, in this second movement perhaps we face the fear of living in a world mediated by violence, a violence that we can usually hold at bay or ignore by switching the televi-sion channel. Yet, in this transition place, we face the brokenness and "poured-out" quality of our world, and we hear the call not to stronger forms of violence or retribution but to attend in that quiet space and know the fullness of a hope that might have died too. So many people live in this space. It is not theoretical. So, for me, the power of Stravinsky's piece, build-ing to that awful crescendo, that cacophony of death, followed by nothing, silence, lies in wanting some reso- 71.1 2012 41 lution other than the sacrifice. He captures well what those first disciples must have been going through on their "seventh day," after the terrible dramatics of human violence, cruelty, power; now Mary and the others know an empty silence made all the more desolate by what had come before. Building better plans, creating monu-ments, assigning guilt or blame—all of these would have tempered the grief. Instead, we hear the invitation to silence, to attentiveness. It may be that real forgiveness, hope, and resurrection can occur only in such silence. Ignatius places us before those realities that so easily move us away from attentiveness—fear of death and fear of violence or rejection—as a space within which some-thing very different—freedom—can arise. This experience could well represent a kind of "downer" for us, but need it be so? The sense of the deaths we experience—whether the physical death that Jesus freely embraces or the death of our illusions about the world and our patterns of dealing with it—create, as it were, a wasteland, an emptiness before which we stand and pray with Mary and the disciples. Its all-encompassing nature seeks to enlarge our freedom by placing before us our fears. Facing the wasteland yields fruit not in darkness or desolation (though we do indeed pass through these) but, as Antonio Valentino noted in a Directory written in the first generation after the death of Ignatius, aims at perfection in prayer and work, holding always God before one's eyes with gentleness and consistency, and remembering God whenever we think, speak or act.7 If we are moving toward the Contemplatio here as a mode of engaging the world, then this transition that "clears the ground" can yield an abundant harvest. We are left waiting for God's action—not ours. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 42 I do not use the imagery of "clearing ground" acci-dentally. I find myself touched by the way in which one deals with one sweep of contemplation, which clears, seeds, and bears fruit in ever deeper ways. Think through with me the extraordinary introduction to the Fourth Week that piggybacks on what we have seen. As Cusson mentions, when Ignatius presents the medita-tion on the first resurrection appearance (SpEx §299), he offers a first point, nothing else; the simplicity of the perspective shines through: "He appeared to the Virgin Mary." Ignatius sees no need for second or third points, as are given in all the other meditations. It is a unique tableau.8 Ignatius does complete the sweep from where we have been: His soul, likewise united with the divinity, descended into hell. There he sets free the souls of the just, then comes to the sepulcher, and rising appears in body and soul to His Blessed Mother (SpEx §219). We have before us the same matter as in the con-templations on "the seventh day" of the Third Week; the setting does not change. What happens arises from within where we find ourselves as we attend to the empty space at the end of the Third Week. Our entry into the Fourth Week comes not because we will our-selves to joy. Rather, in the space that death and vio-lence have laid waste, Resurrection dawns like light and, with it, love, joy, and hope as the fruit. We do not change spaces for Resurrection, for the Fourth Week; rather, we extend the Third until it bears fruit. As director, I cannot overemphasize how hard it is to keep people focused at this point; exhaustion has set in. The Fourth Week regularly gets short shrift, as does Resurrection in so much of Christian life; yet, as I pray with the transition from Third to Fourth Week, I 71.1 2012 43 realize how crucial that transition point is to our ability to be in and to serve a broken but risen world. Ignatius leads us to the "hell" which Jesus has entered freely and fully, with all those who have gone before—and with us eventually—and then moves to Mary, in her home and oratory, exactly the order that repeats the end of the Third Week. I would like to move in three points—Jesus' apparition to Mary, Jesus' rising "from the dead," and the gift of joy to a world that killed and can kill still. They are related, but quite distinct too. Think of how redolent Jesus' apparition is for Mary. Ignatius does not describe it much, except for a clear allusion. He asks us to "see the arrangement of . . . the place or house of our Lady. I will note its different parts, and also her room, her ora-tory, etc." (SpEx §220). In §103 we were asked "especially to see the house and room of our Lady." The parallelism is almost exact, and, of course, David Fleming in Like the Lightning alludes to the Annunciation contemplation.9 This is not pious drivel, as some are tempted to say; this really is a new Annunciation, but one that asks Mary—and us—to go on mission for the Trinity with the Risen Lord. After all the Sturm und Drang of the Third Week— the drama of our human violence and blood-lust, even the drama of the Last Supper that begins the Third This really is a new Annunciation, but one that asks Mary—and us— to go on mission for the Trinity with the Risen Lord. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 44 Week—this dawn of the Fourth Week, of a new world, is so undra-matic. Mel Gibson would have a difficult time with it. We would be tempted to make it dramatic, and certainly the Miraflores altar-piece does so, with Jesus showing his wounds and with Mary por-trayed as quite the medieval lady. Ignatius's description, though, is so different. Certainly, as he notes in the fourth point, the "divinity here manifests itself so miraculously," though in the fifth point the man-ifestation is as the consoler, the one who brings joy in the glory of the Resurrection. What are we to make of the apparition as "con-soler"? By the way, Ignatius gives only this contemplation in the Fourth Week, though we find a number of other texts arranged from §299-312 (in the section on the Mysteries of Christ's Life), with an ever wider circle of people let in on the Resurrection. In the Fourth Week itself, one contemplation alone pre-cedes the Contemplatio, again with Mary. If we take a step back, Mary represents the free per-son who has tasted the fullness of the passage of Jesus, both into death and at the hands of a broken, murderous world. If the darkness that John evokes in the Gospel stands as a hallmark of the Passion, Mary knows that darkness fully. As we wait with her, we hear the invita-tion to know that darkness, to let our own hopes and dreams die, to recognize the fullness of what death, as God-forsakenness, means. Mary roots us in a barren 71.1 2012 45 landscape without familiar landmarks. Stark—not dra-matic. Quiet. As long as we cling to our own artifacts, the land remains cluttered, and we are unable to receive. In essence, Mary descends into a kind of hell as well, the fullness of the First Week's hell, which is not of her doing, but which is the fruit of the world we have created. The more I ponder and pray with these texts, however, the more they strike me as a new "Incarnation," but with a different order and intent. In the Incarnation medita-tion, we move from the work of God, who ponders the broken, murderous world and chooses to enter it, invit-ing Mary—and us—to share in the work of the Trinity here now. With Mary we have been placed in a God-less world, the fullness of hell. We gaze, we ponder with her, in the freedom of those who have elected to follow Jesus. Mary—and we—know what God's heart would have felt in the acute desire to set people free. We now move from the order of "this world" to an encounter with the Trinity as we know the fullness of the desire of the Trinity in the Incarnation prayer, now effected by the Risen Lord. Again, I want to stress the point: Ignatius places us with Mary as the archetype of the person of the Exercises, the free person. While in later contempla-tions we are indeed shown the rest of the Gospel story, here he asks us to share in the fullness of what freedom The Apparition to Mary Reverses the order of the Incarnation meditation From the Trinity To a Broken World To revelation of the Trinity From a Broken World Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 46 means, freedom at the intersection of our engagement with a broken world, and we wonder at the dawning of a world shot through with Resurrection. The transition of this time represents not a movement from Third Week to Fourth Week, as if we could leave the former behind as just a bad memory; rather, the transition is the on-going space of discipleship. We, like Mary, remain in a broken world, but the transition into the Fourth Week recasts the meaning of the world in a dramatic way, so that we can accept the call to serve a world still broken. Contemplation constitutes the basic hallmark of this freedom; the encounter with the Risen Lord that Ignatius sketches out occurs as an offer of new life in the midst of the contemplation of the fullness of death and sinful violence. These two elements of death and life form a diptych, as it were, for our lives and our prayer. We encounter here not merely the Risen Lord but, with Mary, the pattern of what we shall know as we await that ultimate coming of Christ to the world, and we receive a mission to act upon hope. Into that space, the risen Lord comes, not just as resuscitated—"I'm back"—but as a living proclamation of a new world, God's plan for the ultimate healing and completion of the world God so loves. From the broken world, we encounter the divinity made flesh again for us, but now glorified and risen. If Christ performs "the office of the consoler," as Ignatius says, this consolation does not simply cause a "feeling good" or even a happi-ness, but a revelation of a new world and the empower-ing invitation to dwell in that new world and extend it through time and space. That power is "joy." Joy in this case is not an affect, or even a spiri-tual movement, for Ignatius. In fact, he distinguishes between the two realities: 71.1 2012 47 as soon as I awake [I will] place before my mind the contemplation I am to enter upon, and then . . . strive to feel joy and happiness at the great joy and happi-ness of Christ our Lord (SpEx §229). Happiness we know as an affective movement, a passing reality; we feel happy when we experience cer-tain realities. We can know happiness but still be alien to joy, since happiness comes and goes, depending on the experience we feel. Happiness has an object, and in this case Ignatius does want us to evoke within ourselves the experience of happiness; the encounter becomes the cause of our happiness. Joy, however, pertains to a very different reality. Joy—and this is Christ's joy, of course, a gift of the Holy Spirit—intends not a movement of the heart, a feel-ing, but a disposition, a way of being; it is the hallmark of those who have encountered the risen Lord in the midst of surrounding darkness. Joy makes possible the freedom to go on mission into the Fourth Week—our ordinary time. That light dawns in the Resurrection, not apart from but in the midst of the darkness which Mary—and we—have known. G.K. Chesterton's lament about "joyless Christians" captures something very important here: Christianity satisfies suddenly and perfectly man's [sic] ancestral instinct for being the right way up; satisfies it supremely in this; that by its creed joy becomes something gigantic and sadness something special and small. The vault above us is not deaf because the universe is an idiot; the silence is not the heartless silence of an endless and aimless world.10 The joy we experience in the presence of the Risen Lord does not suddenly wipe away the reality of the grief we know at the experience of the brokenness of Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 48 the world and its impact on the vulnerable; rather, such joy places it all in context, allows us to see the world as it is, in the context of God's proclamation of new life and hope in Christ. The way Ignatius ends the Exercises with Mary and this twofold contempla-tion seems to suggest that this joy becomes our "new normal," what God intended in creation and effects through the Incarnation, ministry, and Passover of the Word. We often emphasize the continuity/discontinuity of the Risen Jesus; he is like but different. But is it not really also the world which is continuous/discontinu-ous? In a great line from "Lion in Winter," Eleanor of Aquitaine says, "In a world where carpenters get resur-rected, everything is possible." Exactly—and such is our hope and the cause of our joy. As contemplatives moved to action, we in the Ignatian tradition live in the intersection of the two parts of the diptych, of Holy Saturday and Easter, but with joy as the hinge, something into which we grow. The encounter with the Risen Lord in the midst of a broken world becomes the reality of our lives and a point of conversion into this "new world." In that respect, we are unlike Mary but more like the others who encounter the Lord in a gradual way, but who nevertheless grow into a joyful engagement with the world. However, we can-not separate this encounter from the work which serves life and just peace; we grow in joy and hope only if we place ourselves at the service of justice, as it were, as the thirty-second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus suggested. Yet, we are no longer simply disciples, but apostles, those sent as the Word was sent into the world, but now into a world transformed. This "new normal," a joyful realm, disorients in many ways. Please excuse me as I take a bit of a detour 71.1 2012 49 into a Byzantine theme, that of the "Harrowing of Hell," an ancient icon in the East that depicts a scene sketched by a homily from the second century. I ask you to pon-der it with me for just a few moments. We have here one particu-lar rendition of the icon, but a powerful one with three signifi-cant movements. One of these captures the Contemplation for the Fourth Week as given by Ignatius, namely that the Risen Lord sets free the souls of the just held bound before Christ's Resurrection. For Balthasar and oth-ers, this moment of encounter with the Risen Lord has become the deciding moment for them, the one in which heaven—and the second death—actually open. In that sense, we have a key moment of election again, a confirmation to "fol-low" but now in a different way—to eternal life for them. Yet this Risen Lord calls us to proclaim eternal life and freedom in this world. Second, and this evokes the reality of La Storta, the risen Christ carries the cross, but as a tool through which to break open the gates of Sheol. This Christ on mission invites us to the imagery of the Third Week, but now as a call to freedom, not to death or destruction. The order of the world is profoundly inverted here, and violence gives way to freedom. No wonder the thirty- Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 50 second General Congregation could so freely embrace being "under the banner of the cross" as a mode of identification. This rising Christ changes all the imag-ery of violence, death, and hopelessness we would have taken for granted. One finds joy even in the cross—how odd—but, again, joy is not simply a moment of happi-ness but a consistent mode of being. Again, we cannot separate encounter with the Risen Lord from presence to those who know Holy Saturday and its pain or loss of hope. Last, though, for the East—and for Ignatius, I think—the implications of this little icon and of the work of Christ show free-dom in an even bolder way. A second-century homily proclaims, "I did not create you to be held captive," as does the Office of Readings every Holy Saturday. Do we ponder, though, the implications of that little line, the heart of the link between the Third and Fourth Weeks? The dynamic of the Third Week—from the human point of view—reveals the inevitability of betrayal, duplicity, shame, violence, grief, blood-lust. Not an appetizing menu, to be sure. Ignatius would ask us to contemplate the recreated world in which such patterns have lost their power forever, not just for a moment; we know their power, but as something that has passed away, both from the world and from our lives. If a counterpart to the contemplation on the Incarnation in the Second Week is the Two Standards meditation, perhaps this "diptych" does something Joy is not simply a moment of happiness but a consistent mode of being. 71.1 2012 51 similar. In the Two Standards meditation, Satan calls his demons and "goads them on to lay snares for people and bind them with chains" (SpEx §142). Christ bids, attracts, graces, to a very different world, of poverty, bearing insult and humiliation freely as a means of free-dom (SpEx §146). We have seen that first standard lived to its full-est in the Third Week; now we see Christ who in his revealed divinity, as the fullness of the revelation of the Trinity, continues to serve, to free, to attract, to bid, but now as having conquered all freely and lovingly. Do we not know here the prospect of a whole new world unbound or in the process of unbinding, a process to which Christ missions us? Does Christ not call us in this contemplation with Mary to gather companions in the work of dwelling in this contemplative yet active space? The full import of what has been "the normal" becomes ever clearer to us, even as we enter more fully into com-panionship with Mary in this contemplation. The chal-lenge to us, however, never degenerates into hopeless self-scrutinizing or, even worse, scrupulosity. We do not get forced back into contemplating our sins, as too often happens when people gaze upon the cross, or into the violent guilt or shame of the Third Week. Rather, aware of the Third Week and its full impact on the one whom we love and on the world Christ so loves, we hear the invitation to explore contemplatively a dawning world, one which opens, I think, to the Contemplatio and to our role in extending Christ's joy. James Alison, the British Catholic theologian, has written movingly on this, inviting us to consider how our cultures shape our imaginations through the pat-terns of interaction—rivalistic patterns—which for us constitute "the normal." In Christ, and I think in Mary Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 52 and the disciples, God gives us a dramatically differ-ent pattern of interaction, one that creates relationships touched by joy, not by violence or rivalry or fear. In the complementary contemplations we are given through-out the Fourth Week, we encounter many such persons, wounded in and by the Third Week, even agents of the violence of the Third Week, with whom and in whom we now encounter the pattern of joy and hope. These reflections lead me to ponder the meaning of the "Rules for Thinking with the Church" (SpEx §352-370). They are usually given as a form of Counter- Reformation ecclesiology, a guide on how to engage the debates of the mid-sixteenth century. The text contains all kinds of very context-specific allusions—echoes of debates on predestination, sacraments, authority, and the like that helped tear the church apart. We realize that the inability to attend to what the other was saying represented but one more kind of violence in an already violent age. Ignatius, of course, never had shied away from a fight. One has only to remember how ready he was to dispatch the Moor who had shown insufficient defer-ence to the Blessed Virgin, his Lady. He certainly would not be the first choice as a poster boy for pacifism. Yet, think with me for a moment about the Rules, written at a time when everyone wanted a good fight and looked, all too often, for occasions to pick a fight or score a point. Ignatius's presentation strikes me as curious in that regard, strangely pacific, to use Alison's invitation to a radically different imagination, a con-version of imagination, where our normal expectation is no longer violence or the violent god but rather of a world ordered to and by peaceful relationships. We find here none of the grand drama of the instructions to 71.1 2012 53 the Cardinal Legates to the various Diets and Councils. Instead, we find a man desperate to preserve the unity of the community, to avoid the kinds of clashes that mark his age. Perhaps when we look at the Rules for Thinking with the Church, the metaphor that I have been using— of having had the earth scorched around us and entering a new world—could be helpful. We tend to bring with us the imagery and imagination to which we have grown accustomed. We bring the patterns of guilt or shame or blame or grief or violence that we have learned only too well from the world we have known as normal. Yet, the totality of the presence of the Risen Christ to Mary— and to us—challenges any return to those spaces to which we have grown accustomed. Certainly, if Christ has "harrowed hell" and broken dominant patterns, we are in need of "a way," of his way. Might not the Rules for Thinking with the Church be Ignatius's way of inviting us to turn from the slavish obedience so alien to the freedom of the Fourth Week and to become attentive to the community of people elected in grace, graced by Risen Life, empowered by saints, who could sketch out for us and for our imagi-nation a path with and to Christ? We stand in need of a community of faith, the Church militant in the original Spanish text, which can model for us the new life revealed in and through the Risen Lord. While the Rules invite a kind of docility in seeking a way of peace and renewal of imagination found in the community of the faithful, they do not require checking one's mind at the door. At times we can, like Ignatius, grieve because of a church that shows the marks of the violence and domination of those who killed the Lord. Nevertheless we wait in the hope of encountering Christ in this com- Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 54 munity, in the Holy Saturday-Easter Sunday diptych, still confident that we will contemplatively learn a way forward, not in spite of but in the pain. In a similar way, Ignatius needed the community to foster conversion out of scruples and into Christ. Still, a real encounter as is experienced in the tran-sition opens a path to community. Rooted in a new experience of the world, it is a community of peace, joy, hope, creativity. This, of course, has none of the "grand drama" of the Third Week that would thrill Mel Gibson, but it has the quiet quality of a son meeting a grieving mother who has been wounded by violence but, in joy, is experiencing the possibility of new life, the opening of heart and imagination. Quiet, not dramatic in the ways we are used to, but nonetheless a powerful and creative stance. The difference between the drama at the end of the Third Week and the quiet dawn of the Fourth invites us to know in its fullness what the Two Standards means and what Christ offers: not a crusade of our own, but an allowing of new possibilities to dawn in our age. We have seen such dawns, and their ecclesial power touches deeply. I think of Jean Vanier's L'Arche com-munity embracing the handicapped, those rejected by the world. There is the hospice movement, which rose from Dame Cecily Saunders's refusal to allow cancer patients for whom medical drama could do no more to simply go away and die. Those who serve refugees and bring a moment of tenderness and hope to fragile lives similarly stand at the confluence of this Paschal diptych. Easier, I suppose, would be to follow the temptation to take up arms and fight back or condemn, but we are invited to a very different path, not of moralism but of an embrace like that of Mary by her Son. 71.1 2012 55 We began this talk with Stravinsky's musical image of primal humanity and its lust for sacrifice, a lust that seeks "salvation for the people" in a woman condemned to die by dancing madly. The music crashes to a dra-matic conclusion followed by silence. I would like to end with a different dance, one described by Sydney Carter's words applied to the Shaker hymn "Simple Gifts," here the "Lord of the Dance." Perhaps this could evoke something of the transition to a dance that is joyous, inclusive, expansive. May this be our prayer and our path. I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black— It's hard to dance with the devil on your back. They buried my body, and they thought I'd gone, But I am the Dance, and I still go on. Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he. They cut me down and I leapt up high; I am the life that'll never, never die; I'll live in you if you'll live in me— I am the Lord of the Dance, said he. Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he. Notes 1 Gilles Cusson, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1988), p. 299. 2 Cusson, p. 303. Review for Religious Mercier • Without the Drama 56 3 Hans Urs von Balthasar, Mysterium Paschale: The Mystery of Easter (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans, 1990), p. 168. 4 von Balthasar, p 169. 5 John English, Spiritual Freedom: From an Expertience of the Ignatian Exercises to the Art of Spiritual Direction (Guelph: Loyola House, 1973), p. 247. 6 Mary Oliver, Thirst (Boston: Beacon Press), p. 52. 7 Martin E. Palmer, S.J., On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of 1599 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 79. 8 Cusson, p. 303. 9 David L. Fleming, Like the Lightning: The Dynamics of the Ignatian Exercises (St Louis, Institute of Jesuit Sources, 2004), p. 77. 10 Gilbert K. Chesterton, Othodoxy (Garden City, NY: Image Books, 1959), p. 160. Questions for Reflection 1. Where have I embraced the emptiness of death and how has it enabled me to experience the joy of the Risen Lord? 2. Do you have any favorite music, artwork, or poetry that helps you enter into the sacred silence discussed in this article—or that helps you understand other moments in the Spiritual Exercises or in the Gospels? 71.1 2012 57 Dolor 5: At the Foot of the Cross Giving birth is contracting to sleep with death. It is an agreement to pass on everything that has been fed, fondled, fiercely treasured, looked forward to as one looks for the first hibiscus every spring. It is a signature and seal in pledge that one will leave someone something. It holds the possibility—tormenting as tarantula's tricks— that the loved child may pass first, cursedly, of illness, mishap, quick step in the wrong place, by fate or by murderous hatred heaped upon the great. The blood and wash of afterbirth foretell that every holding close lets loose. Small fingers, small toes enlarge as mothering bellies pull back to size and shape. Flowerings green up. They will, they must, brown down with wintering. And every footfall tells an end to every earthly good, each breath started with a slap, each name begun so well that slips into what's next. Pamela Smith sscm Review for Religious 58 peter j. schineller Finding or Seeking God in All Things: A Few Cautionary Notes "T o find God in all things" is a commonplace of Ignatian spirituality. Books and essays on Ignatius and Jesuit spirituality have highlighted the phrase as a hallmark of that spirituality. However, in an essay entitled "The Ignatian Charism and Contemporary Theology," the late Cardinal Avery Dulles wrote that "to the best of my knowledge the expression 'finding God in all things,' does not appear verbatim in the writ-ings of St. Ignatius."1 He admits that we do find "similar expressions" in the writings of Ignatius, and adds that "it seems evident that God can be found in all things." Dulles's observation makes me wonder and leads me to the unanswerable question of whether Ignatius deliberately avoided the phrase "find God in all things." Ignatius does write in many places that we should seek Peter J. Schineller sj is the archivist for the New York Province of the Society of Jesus. He resides at America House, 106 West 56th Street, New York, NY 10019. 59 71.1 2012 and serve God in all things; but, as we will see, except for one place, he does not use the phrase "find God in all things." Jerome Nadal, one of the early companions of Ignatius, clearly believed that Ignatius had the gift or charism to "feel the presence of God" and that this experience should likewise characterize Ignatius's fol-lowers. He writes: "I shall not fail to recall that grace which he had in all circumstances, while at work or in conversation, of feeling the presence of God and of tasting spiritual things, of being contemplative even in the midst of action: he used to interpret this as seeking God in all things."2 Note well that Nadal says Ignatius interpreted this experience as seeking God in all things. So too, Pedro Ribadeneira, also an early compan-ion of Ignatius, reports that "we frequently saw him taking the occasion of little things to lift his mind to God, who even in the smallest things is great. From seeing a plant, foliage, a leaf, a flower, any fruit, from the consideration of a little worm or any other animal, he raised himself above the heavens and penetrated the deepest thought."3 And, in the Autobiography of Ignatius, Luis da Camara, who wrote down the words of Ignatius, states: "At whatever time or hour he wanted to find God, he found Him."4 (To be precise, da Camara says that Ignatius could find God at all times, not that he found God in all things.) So we ask: might there be some wis-dom or insight—or caution—in the fact that Ignatius only once uses the phrase "find God in all things"? The Sole Text and Its Context In the long letter to Antonio Brandão subtitled "Instructions given by our father Ignatius, or at his Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 60 direction . . ." we read the advice given to scholastics: "the scholastics cannot engage in long meditations . . . they can practice seeking the presence of our Lord in all things; in their dealings with other people, their walking, seeing, tasting, hearing, understanding, and all our activities. For his Divine Majesty truly is in every-thing by his presence, power, and essence. This kind of meditation—finding God our Lord in everything—is easier than lifting ourselves up and laboriously making ourselves present to more abstracted divine realities."5 Again, a caution. This letter was not written by Ignatius, but at his direction by Juan de Polanco. Further, before he says "finding God in everything," he says the scholastics must "practice seeking the presence of our Lord in all things." Finding that presence is not auto-matic— and, perhaps, not so easy as we might think! In the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, we read that Jesuit novices "should often be exhorted to seek God our Lord in all things . . . loving him in all crea-tures and all creatures in him" [§288]. Again, we see emphasis on the element of search. So too, in the Contemplation to Attain Love in the Spiritual Exercises, we read: "Here it will be to ask for an intimate knowledge of the many blessings received, that filled with gratitude for all, I may in all things love and serve the Divine Majesty" [SpEx §233]. Ignatius wants the retreatants to love and serve God in all; he does not write that they are to find God in all things. I wonder if the rea-son might be that Ignatius wishes to safeguard the Divine Majesty, the ever-greater God. Might it be that he fears that we will believe that we can capture or contain or iden-tify the ever-greater God in any one thing or in all things? In addition to frequently encouraging that we seek or serve God in all things, Ignatius does say that we 71.1 2012 61 can and must "find the will of God." Thus the Spiritual Exercises are a way of preparing the soul to rid itself of attachments and "of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul" [SpEx §1]. And Ignatius most frequently ends his letters praying for the grace to "know God's most holy will and per-fectly fulfill it." Or, "may God in his goodness give us his abundant grace to know his most holy will and entirely to fulfill it." Even as Ignatius urges us to seek and find the will of God, he emphasizes the method and the search. He never claims that seeking and finding the will of God is easily done. It demands prayer, reflection, seeking, mortification, time, and effort. Today's Background, Context, Horizon In an obvious oversimplification, we might say that in our age we find two extreme tendencies: 1) the skepti-cal, secular way of underbelief and 2) the less critical way of overbelief. These correspond to two rival "isms" in our globalized world, spoken of by Fr. Adolfo Nicolás, supe-rior general of the Society of Jesus, in a major address on higher education: 1) an aggressive secularism and 2) a resurgence of various fundamentalisms.6 We might look at the cautious and critical way of Ignatius in light of these two tendencies. 1. The skeptical and secular viewpoint. Many today, including Christians, experience the distance, absence, Seeking and finding the will of God demands prayer, reflection, seeking, mortification, time, and effort. Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 62 or otherness of God. Rather than finding God in all things, they do not find God anywhere in their experi-ence. Or God is edged out by many possibilities, alter-natives, and options, by many "things" that are not God. They live in a world come of age that no longer "needs" God and are skeptical of those who find, describe, and talk of God so easily. They are critical of claims or interpretations that seem to make God into one thing among many. This objectification of God, they find, entails a loss of God's otherness and transcendence. 2. The less critical fundamentalism or overbelief. At the other extreme are the many believers who see God at work in every event. God is close and at hand. Some Christians seem to think they have a lock on God, clearly grasping and knowing the divine intentions and will for the world and for humankind. Statements to that effect indicate a temptation to reduce God to our size, to capture and lay hold of God. In a general way, two of today's thinkers reflect these two tendencies. The first is the critic George Steiner. In My Unwritten Books, a sequel to his book Real Presences, which points us to various signs of the transcendent, Steiner writes that he feels strongly the absence of God—a powerful experience of emptiness. "Awesome is the God who is not. . . . I strive to be with His sovereign absence."7 Steiner finds himself groping for and seeking God more than believing in and finding God. He adds that to be great, literature need not believe in or affirm God, but at least must grapple with the question of God, the search and debate over the reality of God. From an explicit Christian perspective, we might also listen to James Gustafson. In an article entitled "The Denial of God as God,"8 Gustafson writes that "the history of our religion is the history of human 71.1 2012 63 attempts to manage and manipulate the awesome power of God, who is finally beyond our capacities to know fully, to capture in human thoughts and deeds. . . . It is the history of efforts to control the times and places of his presence." Gustafson asserts that we overlook this awesome reality of God: "how we want a God we can manage, a God who comes when we beckon him, a God who permits us to say that he is here, but not there; a God who meets our needs on our terms; a God who supports our moral causes and destroys the forces we think are evil; a household God and a kitchen God." Then, drawing from the thought of Martin Luther, he challenges us not to try to manipulate or reduce God, but to "let God be God." Ignatius's Balance Surely Ignatius is not guilty of this reduction or denial of God. He had a strong sense of the immen-sity and majesty of God (he loved stargazing), as well as the closeness of God (recall his meditation on the Incarnation and birth of Jesus Christ in the Spiritual Exercises [§101-117]). But can this be said of all his followers? Might some be at times guilty of oversimpli-fying, reducing, identifying God with their own prefer-ences and thus not "letting God be God"? To put this more boldly; if we think it easy and pos-sible to find God in all things, might we end up by not finding the true God—the transcendent God—in or above any things? Emphasizing the finding of God in all things could become misleading and wrongheaded because it misses or misinterprets the special presence of God in some particular times, places, events, and things. Might this approach be similar to the positive emphasis on the generous and widespread presence and Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 64 offering of God's grace to all persons. If that view, good in itself, is pushed to the extreme, if all is grace, then we no longer distinguish between grace and non-grace, between grace and nature. Or, if all ground is seen as holy ground, then we might overlook or undercut the special presence or intervention, the special rev-elation of God. If we hold that everything i s sacred and noth-ing is profane or secular, then we could also hold the reverse, that nothing is sacred. Ultimately, it seems important and necessary that we maintain the distinction (not separation) of sacred and secular, of grace and nature, of the God who is in all things and yet above all things. Ignatius also writes of one other thing that Jesuits should seek in all things—namely, greater abnegation and continual mortification! "The better to arrive at this degree of perfection which is so precious in the spiritual life, [the] chief and most earnest endeavor [of the Jesuit candidate and those in formation] should be to seek in our Lord his greater abnegation and continual mortifica-tion in all things possible; and our endeavor should be to help him in those things to the extent that our Lord gives us his grace, for his greater praise and glory" [General Examen of the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, §103]. While the seeking of mortification does not pre- If we think it easy and possible to find God in all things, might we end up by not finding the true God— the transcendent God— in or above any things? 71.1 2012 65 clude the effort to seek, find, and serve God in all things, surely it derives from a very different, and more sober perspective. It offers a balance to an overly posi-tive, totally one-sided incarnational spirituality. Ignatius is reminding us that the God or Christ that we seek and serve in all things is the Christ of the cross (abnega-tion and mortification) as well as the Christ of glory who comes with power. Thus Ignatius can write regard-ing the qualifications of the rector of a college, that he should "be a man of great example, edification and mortification of all his evil inclinations" [Constitutions, §423]. The ideal superior is one who both practices mortification and seeks to find God in all things! Living with and Maintaining the Tension Deus Semper Major—God Ever Greater—is the title of the monumental work of Erich Pryzwara sj on Ignatius of Loyola.9 The God of Ignatius, the God we seek, find, love, and serve is ever greater, always more. God is in all, but also always above all. Ignatius had the ability to keep seemingly opposing tensions or ten-dencies in view—prayer and action, contemplation and action, the local and the universal, trust in God and trust in our talents and efforts, and obedience and free-dom. In these reflections we are pointing to 1) the ten-sion between the God in all things, and the God above all things and 2) the possible tension between seeking God in all things, and finding God in all things. It seems best and most creative to hold on to both elements of these two tensions and not eliminate one or the other. In one tension we hold that God is in and also above all things: incarnate, indwelling, working in the world, and yet, in keeping with the fourth part of the Contemplation to Attain the Love of God, above Review for Religious Schineller • Finding or Seeking God in All Things 66 and beyond, the source of all. In the second tension, we maintain both the seeking for and the finding of God. St. Augustine writes that we would not seek God unless we had already found (and been found by) God. So I am simply suggesting that rather than conflate the two, or eliminate one or the other, we place a bit more emphasis on the seeking and searching, and less on the finding, in accord with Deut. 4:29: "from there you will seek the Lord your God, and you will find him if you search after him with all your heart and soul." A Caution and a Challenge Does this mean we should not use the phrase "find-ing God in all things"? No. It is in common use and does reflect the way Ignatius was interpreted by his contem-poraries even if Ignatius was normally reticent in using it. At the same time, we should use the words carefully and with awe, recalling that God is always greater and beyond. We dare not think we have captured God. We can preserve and use "finding God in all things" if we emphasize the search, the process, the prayerful effort of trying to find God in places and events around us. Two final cautions: Meister Eckhart said that "Foolish people deem that they should look upon God as though he stood there and they here. It is not thus." God is ever greater, ever here, and ever beyond. We might recall, too, the words of Fr. John Courtney Murray when he saw a poster to be used at a demonstration. Expressing the spirit of the times and a commitment to faith and justice, the poster read: "God Is Other People!" Murray is reported to have said "They forgot the comma after the word 'other.' It should read: 'God is Other, People!' " Probably the strongest challenge now is to seek and find God in the cities, in the world of technology and 71.1 2012 67 computers. We should not seek to find God only in sun-sets and stars and in the least of the sisters and broth-ers, but also amid skyscrapers and elevators, amid steel and concrete buildings, amid asphalt streets, on subways and in airplanes—wherever God seems to be edged out, overlooked, or denied. If the challenge seems daunting, we might be consoled by the words St. Augustine attri-butes to God: "you would not search for me unless you had already found me." And, we might add, we would not search for God "unless God had already found us." Notes 1 Avery Dulles sj, "The Ignatian Charism and Contemporary Theology." America (26 April 1997): 16. 2 Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu, Mon. Nadal, iv, 651. 3 Monumenta Historica Societatis Iesu, Vita Ignatii Loyolae, in Fontes Narrativi, iv, 742. 4 Ignatius of Loyola, Autobiography, §99. 5 Ignatius of Loyola: Letters and Instructions, (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 2006), p. 342. 6 Adolfo Nicolás sj, "Challenges to Jesuit Higher Education Today." Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education 40 (Fall 2011): 9. 7 George Steiner, My Unwritten Books, (New York: New Directions Books, 2008), p. 209. 8 James Gustafson, "The Denial of God as God." Criterion (Autumn 1977): 6-9. 9 Erich Przywara sj, Deus Semper Major: Theologie der Exercitien (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1940). Review for Religious 68 In Distressing Disguise for Agnes Gonxha Bejaxhiu he's a lonely old man dandruff dusts his faded black shirt some polyester blend shiny, holding odors of sweat and cigarettes and left-overs some of which remains on the front of his trousers the purple around his neck shabby, soiled, worn-out even burned a little in one place careless as he is with his smokes over my head his palsied hand trembles and to my ears come mumbled words of grace while my heart strains to see Him, to see His true face, here before me in distressing disguise. Sean Kinsella Winter Sunset At exactly five-fifteen p.m. the over-ripe sun paused a second on the town's rim, all the horizon's color sealed in its neon pulp. I could hardly stop gazing, sure it would burst and spill red-orange juice, winter's redemptive blood, across the Western sky. Patricia Schnapp rsm The Warmth, the Will, and the Way The dilemma is that I am not making very steady progress on my spiritual journey. This leads me to think that I need more consistency. Since I already live "a stable way of life" as a member of a religious order, my basic direc-tion is set. I see that this way of life is leading me where the deepest currents of my heart want me to go. But despite that general clar-ity of direction, I find myself dawdling along, sometimes going backwards, often wandering off to explore some curiosity, rarely totally focused on the path, much less on the goal, of this particular journey on which the Way is also the End. We often pray that the Holy Spirit will fill our hearts and "enkindle in them the fire" of 71.1 2012 sharing experi-ence 69 ben harrison Ben Harrison mc is a Missionaries of Charity Brother. He has worked in formation and has journeyed, in the U.S. and Europe, alongside homeless people, prisoners, addicts, and other people on the margins of society. His email is . Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 70 his love. Once on a retreat I was complaining to the director that I didn't feel any sense of God's presence, and he assured me that I wouldn't be feeling the absence if there weren't a kind of presence; the longing itself was a sign of the Spirit's presence. If I could welcome that longing as a warming presence rather than endure it as a chilling absence, it would help to enkindle the fire of his love. When I speak of this warmth of heart I am not talk-ing about seeking emotional experiences in prayer but rather of finding that sense of inner presence that is so important in the prayer of Eastern Christianity. My mind and the actions it inspires range all over the place, but if I am attentive to that warmth in my heart, the inner pres-ence not only influences my thoughts and feelings but also anchors my actions and desires. This sense of warmth, then, helps me to be more consistent on my spiritual way. I frequently have very good insights, and for a long time I thought that they could keep me centered. I often thought, "Oh, what a brilliant idea! If I can only remember that every day, I will be set for life." And so I would make a note and stick it on the door, or I would write a prayer and say it every morning, until it became so routine that what I was saying didn't even register. Soon I would have another brilliant insight with life-changing potential. Such thoughts are like matches that provide real fire, but only for a few minutes. Then, unless the match is touched to a candle or to a heap of kindling, it is spent. I need something more reliable than insights. I need something more reliable than insights. 71.1 2012 71 Perhaps the secret is to do what would be done in a cottage in the woods: continually add fuel to the fire, a log at a time, to keep it burning. Then, late at night, bank the coals, rake them together in a little pile so that the heat will not dissipate. A few glowing embers will remain in the morning, upon which new kindling can be placed and fresh wood arranged so all is ready to warm the beginnings of the new day. That way the hearth never grows cold. I am discovering that this warmth of heart is a sign of the Spirit's presence with me, abiding in me, direct-ing me toward the goal. But there is something else that seems to be essential in order to deepen that presence and strengthen God's claim on me—what I would call will. The desire is there: the forward impulse, the yearn-ing for the heights, the longing to surrender my being to the One Who Is. What is the difference between this desire and will? To wish for something is to entertain a desire for it; to want it is to own that desire; to will it is to act on that desire, to put it into operation. Will has about it an element of determination. And it is not something I can drum up within myself. It has to be given. St. Paul says, "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for God is at work in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (Phil 2:12-13). Will and the Vows As I think about my vocation, I would say that my will is expressed, above all, by the vows. My vows are the way I demonstrate to myself, to God, and to oth-ers this desire to belong totally to him. The Latin verb for will is volo, velle, and the Latin verb voveo, vovere means vow or wish. Though etymologically the roots of volo and voveo do not seem to be related, there is, Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 72 to my mind, a consonance of meaning. The vows of religious life are a way of making concrete the double-edged desire that is God's desire for me, expressed in a call—a word spoken silently in the heart—that awakens a reciprocating desire in me. His desire to give himself completely to me sets that very same flame alight in me so that I desire to give myself irrevocably to him. The gentle fire of the Spirit's warmth that God enkindles in my heart is drawing me, slowly but surely, toward the blazing glory at the heart of God, and my vows repre-sent the power of that attraction and my determination by God's grace to reach that goal. I see the vows of religious life as the embodiment and expression of the will to be united with God and to give myself to him totally in a particular context, in response to his gift of himself to us in Christ. This is so whether we are speaking of the monastic vows of obedi-ence, stability, and conversion of life or the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience (or, for that matter, similar sets of vows or promises: those of priest-hood or sacramental marriage, of virginity or service, of oblate-hood or lay association). From primitive times a vow was a solemn promise to make some gift or sacrifice to a divinity as an earnest of a good requested or in thanksgiving for a boon received. Although on a literal level this sounds like a type of bargaining or commerce, I can also see it as a way of demonstrating to myself and my God how important something is to me, how sincerely I desire it, how des-perately I need it, how serious my intentions are. The medieval king might have prayed, "Lord, defend us from the threat of these brutal enemies and I will build a church for your glory." Or a mother may pray, "Lord, if you spare my daughter from this dread disease, 71.1 2012 73 I will do everything I can to support research for its cure." Or a widow may say, as one I know did, "Lord, if I am spared from this condition leading to blindness, I will never use my eyes to take pleasure in what is not good and pure." Thus we see how a vow is an expression of a wish for some good for oneself or others. The Italian word for such a commitment is impegno, which can be translated as "pledge." Literally, some-thing given in pegno is pawned. By the vows I am putting the treasure of my earthly life in pledge for a higher good. I am putting my security, my posterity, and my liberty in pawn for something I need more urgently. What is it, in this case, that I need so urgently? I need the grace to live up to this persistent impulse to give myself—an impulse that God has placed in my heart. I know that the faith, hope, and love in me are too weak and faltering to do the job, to get me where I yearn to go. And so I pledge what I have to him and entrust my poor being to him, not to pay him for what he freely gives, but to show him (and myself) that I am serious about following him and that I trust him with this pre-cious but paltry gift of my life, trust that he will keep it safe and see it redeemed and restored in his own time. Pledging my life to him, I am confident that he will give me the grace I need to live each day. In the world of commerce, one pawns something of value for ready money—something that has value but is not spendable, for something that can be spent. The ready cash makes it possible to buy what is needed today. Another word for this ready cash is currency, also called fluid or liquid assets. All these words—"current," "fluid," "liquid"— suggest an action of flowing and remind us of the Spirit, that spring of living water that flows forth from the heart of Christ. Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 74 Thus, when I make my profession of vows, I am proclaiming my faith in God and my desire to belong to him. The vows that I pronounce represent the totality of my gift of self. In the institute to which I belong, we profess the evangelical counsels—the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. These three vows are an apt symbol of the totality of my life. By dedicating to God all that I have, all that I love, and all my choices and decisions now and in the future, I am effectively giv-ing him all I am. This triad of the evangelical counsels reflects a totality of being, as do many similar triads. I have no trouble, for example, in seeing parallels between the vows and St. Ignatius's prayer surrender-ing "my memory, my understanding, my entire will." The traditional baptismal formula asks us to renounce "the world, the flesh, and the devil." Scripture tells us that we are to love God with our whole heart, soul, and mind (Mt 22:37). The magi brought the treasures of the nations—gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Micah tells us that our sole obligation is "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" (Mi 6:8). It is easy to see how the three evangelical counsels reflect the three theological gifts of faith, hope, and love. And finally, without putting too fine a point on the comparison, I suggest that the vow of poverty is descriptive of my relationship with the Father, without whom I am nothing and have nothing; chastity reflects my relationship with the Word, the Son, who is friend, Savior, and Bridegroom of souls; and obedience is the domain of the Spirit, who prompts the content of obe-dience and makes possible its practice. The act of making vows is thus a statement of my desire to surrender myself absolutely to the Absolute, to dedicate myself to his way and consecrate myself to his 71.1 2012 75 purpose. The mutuality of giving to which God invites me does not mean a mere absorption in each other. Though I would be content to lose myself in God, he seems to want more for me than that. God wants me to share his love for others and so, by my self-offering, he unites me to his own mission—his out-pouring, in-gathering action of universal love. Thus I am given to the particular apostolates and ministries of the institute in which I live my vocation. Sometimes vows are spoken of as sacred bonds. Bonds are something that we feel gripping us, holding or securing us. If bonds are involuntary we feel them as a constraint, an injustice. If they are desired, we feel them as a comfort, a belong-ing, an embrace. I suppose anyone who makes vows feels them sometimes as a restriction and some-times as a liberation. But part of the radi-cal nature of such a commitment is the protestation that one is willing to pay the price, that one values the liberation of giving oneself more than the security of having oneself. It is a recognition that dying to self is the road to life and that the cross shared is the victory won. Like the fox in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince, I want nothing more than for the Little Prince to tame me, so that "the wheat, which is golden [like your hair], will remind me of you. And I'll love the sound of the wind in the wheat." The act of making vows is a statement of my desire to surrender myself absolutely to the Absolute. Review for Religious Harrison • The Warmth, the Will, and the Way 76 Consistency in the Way Returning, then, to my original point, I am saying that two things will help me to find a salutary consis-tency in my spiritual journey: the abiding warmth of the Spirit's presence in my heart, and the will—the determination—to yield to the relentless attraction of Jesus drawing me, and all, to himself. God's love for me in Christ arouses a reciprocating love in me. I give my poor self to him in pledge, not because I have to but because I want to, and he gives me, in return, the wherewithal to make the journey: the daily bread, the water from the rock, and the yearning for home—for the harbor—at the heart of God. Perhaps the greatest indication of his love that God has given me, from my point of view, is not his love itself for me (of which I can scarcely conceive) but my love for him, which is a sweet hunger, a soothing need. Nor is my love for him something that I can claim or that I often feel, but rather an occasional glimpse of light; a fitful melting of joy; a momentary, faint intima-tion of promised ecstasy. It is to the memory of those rare moments of tender quickening, of nostalgia for the unknown, that my will clings during the long periods of dryness, confusion, and loss. It is will that keeps me walking on the way when even the cherished memory fades and all I have left to fall back on is the Spirit's quiet presence in my heart. Indeed, it is all up to God. It is he who supports the journey from behind with his warm abiding. It is he who lures me from ahead through that hunger in my heart. And it is he who strengthens me on the way by the will to journey on. Each day's reminder of that will at work in me is the comforting burden of the vows, by which I experience within myself the debt of love, the 71.1 2012 77 yoke of gratitude, the claim of oneness by which I know that I am his. Being as I am, the fact that I do not manage to live my vows wholeheartedly is not surprising. But it is important that I feel the rub and the pinch and the chafe of them against my stubborn self. As my need and desire for God become stronger than all lesser needs and desires, so the bonds of my belonging to him will grow stronger than all my resistances. At the point that I can give myself without reserve, I will be free. And how do I dare to think that I will reach that point? St. Paul tells us that if God has gone so far as to give his Son for us, "will he not also give us all things with him?" (Rom 8:32). And Paul says further, "I am sure that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ" (Phil 1:6). I trust that God would not have put this desire in my heart, and that of my companions on the way, if he didn't intend to give us the grace to see it through. Home Walking the Labyrinth at Chartres Home. Is it where I begin or end or at the middle stillpoint? Am I at home on the way? Here I am, Lord. Never far from the beginning always approaching the end continually circling the center. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious Getting with the Program P robably one of the most important graces of my novitiate was coming to realize that I had an addiction. It was a painful and embarrassing experience, and yet I have no doubt that it was the best thing that has happened to me in a number of years. During my novitiate I started accessing pornogra-phy online. It was a development I was so ashamed of that I was afraid it would herald the end of my journey into religious life. Previously I had bought magazines and sought out sexually stimulating images in films or through image search engines on the Internet. My behavior began to take root at an early age in romantic fantasy. I would fantasize about being with a girl and wooing her in some exotic setting. Even though I was sexually inexperienced and naive and did not know what adults did together between the sheets, I would some-times escape into this fantasy when I went to bed. 78 A young man writes of his experience of coming to terms during the novitiate with his addiction to pornography. He has requested that the article be published anonym
Issue 21.6 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; JOHN XXIII Letter to Religious Women TheI largest church of Christianity is being prepared to receive the fathers of Vatican Council ii. On October 11 will begin the great meeting which has been the object of the prayerful expectation of al! Catholics and We may add of all men of good will. This is a solemn hour in the history of the Church, for it is a matter of stirring up the forces of spiritual renovation which the Church always possesses so that a new dynamism can .be communicated to the activities and the institutions of her age-long history. The clergy are already reciting the Breviary every day in union with Us for the successful outcome of the ecu-menical Council.2 The laity, especially children, the sick, and the old, have frequently been asked to offer prayer and sacrifice for the same purpose; and they have re-sponded with generous promptness. All are eager to offer their help, for the Council is assuming the role of ',a new Pentecost."s In such a climate of zealous preparation it is natural that those should distinguish themselves who have made a total offering of themselves to God and who have given thermelves to the exercise of. fervent prayer and charity. Beloved daughters, the Church has gathered you under her protective mantle; she has approved your constitu-tions; she has defended your rights; she has derived and will continue to derive great benefits from your works. As an expression of gratitude for what you have done up to x This letter, I1 tempio raassimo, is translated from the Italian text as given in Osservatore Romano, July 8, 1962, pp. 1-2. 2Apostolic Exhortation Sacrae. Laudis, January 60 1962, in Acta Apostolicae $edis, v. 54 (1962), pp. 66-75. ~Prayer for the Council in Acta ApOstolicae Sedis, v. ~51 (1959), p. 832. ÷ ÷ ÷ l~ligious Womtn VOLUME 21, 1962 493 ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS now and as a joyful hope.for your future work, the'words of the Apostle may be deservedly applied to you: ¯. making mention of you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may grant you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the deep knowledge of him: the eyes of your mind being enlightened, so that you may know what is the hope of his calling, what the riches of his .inher-itance in the saints. (Eph 1: 15-18). I would ask you to give every consideration to this let-ter; in the words of the humble Vicar of Christ hear what the Divine Master wishes to suggest to each of you. The preparation for the Council demands that the women consecrated to the Lord according to approved canonical forms should reconsider wi~h renewed fervor the duties of their vocation.In this way your response when the enact-ments of the Council are made will be prompt and gener-ous, for it will have been prepared for by a deeply intense endeavor of personal sanctification. In order that life consecrated to God should always cor-respond in the best way possible to the desires of the Divine Heart, it is necessary that it be 1) a life of prayer, 2) a life of example, and 3) a life of the apostolate. THE LIFE OF PRAYER Here Our thoughts turn especially to the nuns and sisters of the contemplative and penitential life. As We re-distributed the candles given to Us on February 2, 1961, the feast of the Presentation of our Lord in the temple, We remarked: The first destination of the candles, religious houses with the strictest rules of mortification and penance, is meant to re-affirm once more the p~:eeminence of the duties of worship and of total consecration to a life of prayer over every other form of apostolate; and at the same time it is meant to emphasize the greatness of vocations to this way of life and the need of vocations to it? This corresponds to a truth that is universally valid even for religious women of a predominantly active life: the interior life is the only foundation and the only soul of every apostolate. All of you should meditate on this truth, you who are rightly called quasi apes argumentosae because of your continual exercise of the fourteen works of mercy in sisterly conjunction with your fellow sisters. So also those of you who are consecrated to God in secular institutes must draw from prayer all the efficacy of your enterprises. Like every other form of societal living, life that is of-fered to the Lord entails difficulties and sacrifices. Only ' Discorsi,Messaggi, Colloqui di Sua Santitd Giovanni XXIlI, v. 3 (Vatican City: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1962), p. 143. prayer will obtain the gift of happy perseverance. The good works to which you are dedicated will not always be crowned with success; disillusionment, misunderstand-ing, ingratitude await you. Without the help of prayer you will not be able to bear up on your difficult road. You should not forget that a misunderstood dynamism can lead you to fall into that "heresy of action" reproved by Our predecessors. If this danger is avoided, then you can be confident that you are truly cooperators in the salvation of souls :and you will add many merits to your reward. All of you, those devoted to the contemplative life as well as those in the active life, should understand the meaning of the expression, "a life of prayer." It does not mean a mechanical repetition of formulas; it is rather the indispensable means of intimacy with our Lord and of a better comprehension of the dignity of the daughters of God and of the spouses of the Holy Spirit, that "gentle Guest of the soul" who speaks to those who know how to listen in recollection. Your prayer should be nourished by the wellsprings of a profound knowledge of Sacred Scripture, especially of the New Testament; it will be further fostered by the liturgy and the teaching of the Church in all its fullness. Holy Mass should be the center of each day in such a way that each action becomes both a prepar~ation and:a thanks-giving for it. Holy Communion is the daily food which will sustain, comfort, and strengthen you. In this way you will avoid the danger of lacking oil for your lamps as did the foolish virgins in the parable. You will find yourselves ready for everything: for glory and for ignominy, for health and for sickness, for continuing your work and for dying--"Behold the bridegroom comes, go out to meet him" (Mt 25:6). And here it will be useful to recall to you once more the often repeated statement of what We consider to be the three fundamental devotions even for the simple faith-ful: "For the understanding and. encouragement of the adoration of Christ, there is nothing better than to con-sider and to invoke Him under the triple light of His Name, His Heart, and His Blood."5 The Name, the Heart, the Blood of Christ: these are the substantial nourishment of a solid life of piety. The Name of Jesusl In all truth, Nil canitur suavius, Nil auditur iucundius, Discourse at the close o[ the Roman Synod in dcta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 52 (1960i, ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 21, 1962 4. 4. + .John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 Nil cogitatur dulcius, Quam Iesus Dei Filius. Song never was so sweet in ear, Word never was such news to hear, Thought half so sweet there is not one, As Jesus God the Father's Son.6 The Heart of Jesusl In his encyclical "Haurietis Aquas'" of May 15, 1956 (which we recommend to your attentive reflection), Pius XII of venerable memory remarked: If the reasons for devotion to the wounded Heart of Christ ~re duly considered, it should-become clear to all that this is not an ordinary form of piety which one can esteem less than other devotions or regard as a minor matter; rather it is a form of worship perfectly adaptedto lead to the attainment of Chris-tian perfection.~ The Blood of Christi "This is the loftiest sign of the ¯ redemptive sacrifice of Christ which is mystically and really renewed in holy Mass; it gives meaning and orienta-tion to all Christian fife.''s A LIFE OF EXAMPLE These are. the words of Christ: "I have given you an example, that as Ihave done to you, so you also should do" (Jn 13:15). To those who desire to follow the steps of Christ faithfully is presented the practice of the evangeli-cal counsels, "the royal road of Christian sanctification.''6 Poverty Christ was born in a stable; during His public life He had no place to lay His head at night (Mt 8:20); and He died on the naked cross. The first condition that He laid down for those who wish to follow Him was this: "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven" (Mt 19:2f). You have been drawn by the example and teaching of our Divine Master; you have offered all to Him: "I have offered all these things joyfully" (1 Chr 29:17). It is in the light of the imitation of the poor Christ that your vow receives its full value; daily you must content ~ourself with what is indispensable; what is superfluous you should give under obedience to the poor and to good works; the e Vesper-Hymn of the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus; [the English translation is that of Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J.]. ~ dcta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 48 (19.56)¢ p. 346. 8 Discourse to the Religious Family of the Most Precious Blood, June 2, 1962 (Osservatore Romano, July 3, 1962). e Encyclical Letter Sacerdotii Nostri Primordia in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 51 (1959), pp. 550-51. ~ unknown of tomorrow, sickness, old age--these should be entrusted tO Divine Providence after prudent provisions have been taken. Detachment from the goods of the earth attracts general attention since it shows to all that poverty is neither stingi-ness nor avarice; it makes persons reflect seriously on the divine words: "What profit does a man make by gaining the whole world while losing his soul?" (Mt 16:26). Live your vow or your promise to the full, for it makes you like Him who, though rich, became, poor in order that we might become rich through His poverty (see 2. Cor 8:9). In this matter there will be no lack of temptation such as the seeking of small comforts or satisfacti6n in food or the use of goods. Poverty, as you know, has its thorns which must be painful because they will become the roses of heaven. Again the need for legitimate modernization may be-come excessive by ostentation in construction and equip-ment, matters that have sometimes occasioned comments that were scarcely favorable even if there was no question of the modest rooms of the sisters. But understand this well, beloved daughters; it is not Our intention to say that what is indispensable for physical health and for reason-able and needful recreation is contrary to poverty. Never-theless, may the eye of the Divine Master never be sad-dened by that elegance which can have a negative influence on the interior life of persons consecrated~to. God when they live in surroundings which lack the atmosphere of austerity. Let poverty be held in great honor among all of you. We wish to extend a special word of comfort to clois-tered nuns for whom "sister poverty" often becomes "sister indigence." Christ, the Son of God become poor, will be your consolation. Meanwhile in His name We Ourselves stretch out Our hands for you to your fellow sisters who are in a better economic state and to generous benefactors. We encourage the enterprises begun in this connection by the federations of cloistered nuns under the direction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. And We recall to all of you the divine promise: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God" (Lk 6:20). Angelic Chastity We read in the Gospels how jesus suffered and 'how great were the injuries that afflicted Him. Bu~' from Beth-lehem to Calvary the splendor which radiated from His divine purity always increased and won over the people. So great was the austerity and the charm o[ His deport-ment. So also must you be, beloved daughters. Blessed are the carefulness, the mortifications, and the renunciations ÷ ÷ I~ligious Women VOLUME 21, 1962 497 4. 4. 4. John XXIll with which you seek to make more radiant the virtue about. which Pius XII wrote a memorable encyclical letter.1° Live the lessons of.the encyclical; let your conduct show to all that chastity is not only possible but that it is a social virtue which is forcefully defended by prayer, vigi-lance, and the mortification of the senses. May your example show that your heart is not enclosed in a sterile egoism but that it has chosen the indispensable condition for making itself solicitous for the needs of the neighbor. For this purpose cultivate the rules of good man-ners. We repeat: cultivate and make use of them without paying attention to those who would introduce into your life a mode of behavior less adapted to rightful respect and reserve. In your apostolic works reject the theory of those who do not speak or speak very little of modesty and decency so that there may be introduced into methods of education criteria and orientations in opposition to the teaching of the Sacred Books and of Catholic tradition. Even though on the one hand materialism,.theoretical or practical, is a threat and though on the other hand hedonism and corruption wish to break all barriers, Our soul is restored to serenity by the contemplation of the angelic bands who have offered their chastity and who through their prayer and sacrifice draw down on the erring the marvels of divine mercy in a propitiation of pardon for the sins of individuals and of peoples. Obedience The Apostle St. Paul has developed the theme of the humiliation of Christ made obedient even to the death of the cross (Eph 2:8). In order to follow the Divine Master better, you are bound to Him by a vow or promise of obedience. This continual immolation of one's own "I," this annihilation of one's self, can be very costly; but it is also true that victory lies here (see Prv 21:28), because to this spiritual crucifixion there corresponds heavenly graces for you and for humanity. The teaching of the Church is clear and precise con-cerning the inalienable rights of the human person. The peculiar endowments of each person must be allowed to develop in a fitting way in order that each one may corre-spond with the gifts received from God. All this is a recog-nized thing. But if one passes from respect for the person to the exaltation of personality and to the affirmation of personalism, the dangers become great. There are valu-able directives also for you in the words of Pius XII in his exhortation Menti Nostrae: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Encyclical Sacra Virginittu in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 46 (1954), In an age such as this in which the principle of authority is greatly shaken, it is absolutely necessary that the priest, stand-ing firm on the principles of faith, should consider and accept authority not only as the bulwark of the social and religious orders, but also as the foundation of his own personal sanctifi-cation. 11 At this point Our discussion continues by directing it-self to thbse who have the responsibility and the duty of directing others. Demand the most generous obedience to the rules; but at the same time be understanding toward your fellow sisters; encourage in each the development of natural aptitudes. The duty of superior.s is to make obedi-ence lovable and not to obtain a merely external deference and mu~h less to impose unbearable burdens. Beloved daughters, We exhort all of you to live accord-ing to the spirit of this virtue which is nourished by deep humility, absolute disinterestedness, and complete detach-ment. When obedience has become the program of all of life, then the words of St. Catherine of Siena will be under-stood: "How sweet and glorious is this virtue in which all the other virtues are containedt Obedience, you sail without fatigue and without danger you arrive at the harbor of salvation. You are conformed to the only Son, the Word . ; you set sail in the bark of the holy cross, bringing yourself to remain firm and not to neglect the obedience of the Word nor to abandon His teaching . You are great in your perseverance; you are so great since you stretch from heaven to earth, for heaven is un-locked by you.= THE LIFE OF THE APOSTOLATE St. Paul teaches that the mystery revealed to us by God, the plan conceived from all eternity in Christ and come to realization in Him in the fullness of' time, is this: "To re-establish all things in Christ, both those in heaven and those on earth" (Eph 1:10). No one who consecrates him- .self to the Lord is dispensed from the sublime duty of continuing the salvific mission of the Divine Redeemer. The Church has special and great expectations with re-gard to those who live in the silence of the cloister. Like Moses, they hold their arms uplifted in prayer, conscious that in this suppliant attitude victory is gained. So im-portant is the contribution of religious of the contem-plative. life to tl~e apostolate that as the co-patron of the missions and hence as the equal of St. Francis Xavier Pius XI did not choose a sister of the active life but a Carmelite, St. Theres~ of the Child Jesus. You must be spiritually present to all the needs of the Church militant.' No misfortune, no loss, no calamity ~ Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 42 (1950), pp. 662-63. ~Dialogue, c. 155. 4. 4. 4. Religiot~s Woraen VOLUME 21, 1962 499 ÷ ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should find. you a stranger. No scientific discovery, no cul-tural meeting, no social or political gathering should make you think: "These are things that do not concern me." May the Church militant perceive your presence wherever there is a request for your spiritual contribution, to the good of souls and also to true human progress .and to universal peace. May the souls in Purgatory receive your suffrages that the beatific vision may come to them more speedily. United to the choirs of the angels and the saints, continue to repeat the eternal Alleluia to the august~ Trinity. Those who are dedicated to the active life should recall that not only prayer but also work will bring it about that the new course of society draws nourishment from the Gospel and that everything be done to the glory of God and for the salvation of souls. Since persons can not be used in the area of schools, of charity, and of assistance, if they are not prepared for the increased needs which modern conditions impose, exert yourselves under obedience to complete your studies and to take a diploma, quick to overcome all difficulties. In this way there will be a higher appreciation not only of your tried and tested ability but also of your spirit of dedica-tion, of patience, and of sacrifice. Moreover, further needs show themselves in the new countries that have entered the community of free nations. Without affection for one's own land being diminished, the entire world, more than in the past, has become our common fatherland. Many sisters have already heard the call. The field is immense. It is useless to lament that the children of this world have arrived before the apostles of Christ. Lamenting solves nothing; what is necessary is to bestir one's self, to anticipate, to be confident. Nor are the sisters dedicated to contemplation excluded from this duty. In some regions of Africa and of the Far East the inhabitants are more attracted by the contem-plative life since it is more congenial to the development of their culture. Some social classes which are more cul-turally advanced regret that the dynamic life of the mis-sionaries can have only a small degree of coincidence with their way of conceiving religion and of adhering to Chris: tianity. Thus you see, beloved, daughters, how great are the motives that lead to the encouragement of national and international meetings of superiors general that have beer; called by the Sacred Congregation of~ Religious. In this way you are enabled to adapt yourselves better to modern conditions, to profit by common experiences, and to con-~, i sole yourselves with the thought that the Church pos-I sesses a valorous throng of persons capable of meeting every obstacle. The consecrated souls of the new secular institutes know that their work is also appreciated; and they are encour-aged to contribute to the penetration of the Gospel into every phase of the mod6rh world: Those in positions of great responsibility should be dis-tinguished by competence, hard work, and a sense of re-sponsibility. They should also be distinguished by the ensemble of virtues that grace builds up lest persons be put in charge whobase themselves only On human wisdom and on the power of economic, scientific, and technical means: "It is in the name of the Lord our God that we are strong" (Ps 19:8). We invite all of you who are souls consecrated to the Lord in the contemplative or the active life to draw close to each other in charity. May the Spirit of Pentecost rest upon your families, uniting them in that oneness of soul which was manifest in the Cenacle where together with the Mother of God and the Apostles pious women were present (Acts 1:14). CONCLUSION These are Our desires, Our prayers, Our hopes. On the vigil of Vatican Council II the Church has summoned all the faithful, proposing to each of them a state of mind of awareness, of testimony, and of courage. Be among the first, beloved daughters, to cultivate a holy enthusiasm. On this point the Imitation of ChriSt has some touching words: We should daily renew our pqrposes and stir ourselves up to greater fervor as though this were the first day of our conver-sion. Each day we should say: "Help, me, my God, in this my good purpose and in Your holy service; and grant that I may now begin this day perfectly; for what I have done up to now is as nothing" (Bk I, c.19). May the Mother of Jesus and our Mother enkindle you with a new fervorl Have trust in your heavenly Mother and at the same time grow in familiarity with her spouse St. Joseph, the patron of Vatican Council II. Pray also to the saints that are held in particular honor in your various institutes in order that they may unite their powerful in-tercession to obtain that "holy Church reunited in unani-mous and intense prayer around Mary the Mother of Christ and guided by Peter may spread the kingdom of the Divine Savior, a kingdom of truth, of justice, of love, and of peace." The apostolic blessing which We impart to all religious communities and to each person consecrated to God is a + + + Religious Women sign of heavenly favor and of encouragement in a life and an activity for good "in the Church and in Christ Jesus" (Eph 3:21). From the Apostolic Vatican Palace, the second day o[ July of the year 1962, the fourth of Our pontificate. JOHN XXlII ÷ + + John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ELIO GAMBARI, S.M.M. Teaching. Sister in, the Church The purposet of my conference will be to indicate the position, function, and mission of the teaching sister in the Church considered as the perfect juridical society founded by our Lord, for the salvation ,and sanctification of souls. Its purpose is also to respond to certain rumors which are spreading in certain places--this does not seem to be the case in France--and which tend to affirm that the teaching sister assumes a role in the Church and in society which does not belong to her but rather pertains to other types of persons. According to this opinion the teaching sister is merely substituting in a task which in normal condi-tions belongs to others. In this pap~er we shall consider not only the sister's right to exist in the Church but also her special position of commitment with its dignity, rights, and egpecially its duties and obligations. In the Church everything, including dignities and rights, is service; indeed, I should rather say that espe-cially dignities and rights are ~services. If the position of the sister in the Church is a special one, then it necessarily follows that this position carries with it correspondingly greater obligations and duties, which impregnate and ab-sorb the life of the religious institute and of the individual religious. Religious life enlists everything to be found in the person who is marked, with the character of religious. It is my opinion that from the matters to be presented here, whether considered individually or collectively, there will spontaneouslyflow important consequences for teaching sisters with respect to their mission in the per- 1This article is translated with permission from the original French entitled "Le mandat de la religieuse enseignante dans l'Eglise!' which appeared in Ecole chrdtienne et monde d'aujourd'hui pub-lished by the Union des Religieuses Enseignantes de France; 20 rue Gay=Lussac; Pads 5, France. Elio Gambad, S.M.M;; Via dei Monfortani 41; Rome 934, Italy, is an official of the Sa-cred Congregation of 'Religious. VOLUME 2"]., 1962 503 l~iio Ga$m.Mba.M~,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 spective of the Church; this applies perhaps even more so to superiors, since these have the responsibility of form-ing and guiding religious ,teachers. It is my intention to present this subject from a prin-cipally juridical aspect. In recent years there have been a number of publications which have stressed the theologi-cal and even the mystical aspect of teaching; there is, for instance, the work of Father d'Alzon on the mystique of teaching. But I do not think that the juridical position of the teaching sister in the Church has been sufficiently treated; certainly it has not been treated exhaustively. After recalling that the mission of the Church is to teach and to form followers of Christ, I shall show how this proper mission of the Church is communicated to religious and that they partidipate in this mission by the establishment of the religious institute, by the approbation of the constitutions and rules which direct the life and activity of religious, and by the content of the vows of religion. I shall then consider with you some of the char-acteristics of the mission confided by the Church to teach-ing sisters and shall conclude by emphasizing the conse-quences ¯ that result from this mission. The Teaching Mission of the Church The teaching to which sisters d~dicate their lives is linked to the apostolate and the mission which Christ gave to His Church; moreover, it is linked to the mission of Christ Himself, the divine Teacher. The apostolate of education, taken as a whole in its general aspect, is a mis-sion, a function, a mandate for our Lord, for the Church," and for the religious herself. This assertion is verified first of all in the case of Him who is the Teacher par excellence, the unique Teacher Christ who is given the name of Divine Master. Christ came on earth with a mission of education and of teach-ing; He came to communicate life through knowledge of the Father. "I have come that they may know you, the one true God, and him whom you have sent." Before the judgment seat of Pilate Christ made this statement about Himself: "I have come to give testimony to Truth." The Word of God, since 'He is the consub-stantial Image of the Father, must by His very nature manifest and radiate the Truth; He must transmit the light which emanates from the Father. He has described Himself by saying "I am the truth." Those who follow Him and who have accepted His message are His disciples. Such is the mission of Christ our Lord, a mission of education and of teaching; such also is the mission which He has given the Chu¢ch. When He sent His apostles, how else did He express Himself except" by saying "Go, teach": [i make disciples, communicate the truth? Hence the founder of one of the first institutes of religious dedicated to teach-ing, St. Joseph Calasanctius, has correctly said: "Educators are the fellow laborers of truth"; and another saint has called them "sowers of divinity." This mission of edu~a~iofi and 0f teaching is destined to engender Christ in souls, to communicate to them this substantial Truth. Here let us recall the magnificent definition of teaching given by Pope Pius XI in 'the en-cyclical Divini Illius Magistri: the continuation of the Incarnation of Christ in souls. . Even a rapid glance at the rich collection of pontifical documents which treat of education will show us that the educative mission of the Church is presented as a gener-ating of Christ, as a formation of the Christian by a com-munication to him of divine life and of the charity which should inflame the whole world and thus bring truth to realization by means of this charity. The educative mission of the Church is based on her power of teaching and on her maternal, role. The Church, whom we frequently call "holy Mother Church," is essen-tially maternal; as such she is also an educator. Is not education one of the duties that result from maternity; is it not the prolongation of motherhood? In the same way in the case of the Church, her function and m~ssion of edu(ation is the prolongation of her maternal mission. This mission which the divine Founder gave to the Church in which He wished to perpet~Jate HimSelf shows the Chux~ch to us in her~ double aspect of a mystical organ-ism and of a juridical organism, as the mystical Christ and the juridical Christ perpetuated in a permanent way through the course of time by the Church as Pius XII has told us in so masterl~ a way in the encyclical Mystici Cor-poris. From this educative role and mission the Church de-rives her rights and duties. All of us of the present time know the pressing necessity she is under to defend her rights and prerogatives in the area of teaching. Canon 1375 at~irms the right of the Church not only to teach and preach religion but also to found schools of every type; the Church maintains this not as a privilege nor as a substitu-tional function when others fail their duty but as an innate right by virtue of her foundation and of her role. History confirms the exercise of this right by the Church. She it was who has maintained culture in the world, even under its civic.fispects. It has been she who founded and approved universities--theology at Paris, law at Bologna, medicine at Montpellier. All these universities have an ecclesial character. This is important, for even today the Church exercises ÷ ÷ ÷ Th~ Teaching Sister VOLUMI~ 21, 1962 505 ÷ ÷ ElioGamba~ S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 506 her right of teaching and of founding schools of every type. This right she exercises in great part through re-ligious institutes. By means of these institutes which serve her as ministers, the Church has her own schools with a completely ecclesial character; they are schools not of the state nor even of families but of the Church herself. And the Church communicates her own rights to the men and women by whom she accomplishes her mission. All of this shows that the Church's right to teach and to educate is not limited to religious instruction in the proper sense Of that word but also extends to all other matters the purpose of which is the formation of the spirit, of the heart, and of the will; it includes everything which is a means to charity and to love. Other papers of this convention have spoken to you compellingly, instructively, and ardently of the way to construct and rebuild the world and of the way to radiate the message of Christ in the world. This radiation and this reconstruction are not done merely by religious instruction in the strict sense of the word but by a religious instruc-tion that permeates all other matters. Every ray of truth, every treasure of goodness and beauty comes from God and leads back to God; it is by reason of this treasure of truth and goodness that one can lead the world to God. The philosopher Antonio Rosminl has written magnifi-cent pages on this aspect of education and on that unity of education which seeks to insert man and the Christian into the divine plan.2 It is this final!ty that justifies the Church's presence in schools of every kind from the pri-mary level up through the university. The place of the Church in education is linked to her authority. The teaching given by the Church is not merely a statement of the truth; it is rather a presentation of the truth made with authority but without violating con-sciences. Men speak of respect for freedom of conscience; the Church desires that the acceptance of the message of Christ be consciously voluntary; otherwise there can be neither education nor formation. The Church's right to instruct is connected with her power of jurisdiction which includes the two aspects of teaching and of ministry. But the Church instructs by presenting her truth in a way in which it will be accepted. She must prepare the human mind to welcome the truth; for these minds are made for truth as the will and the heart are made for goodness. It is the work of the Church and of those who represent the Church to present truth in ~ Antonio Rosmini, Sulla unittl dell'educazione (Rome: Tipografia del Senato, 1913). a way that corresponds to the exigencies of the mind and the needs of the heart. Communication of the Church's Mission Even when she takes into.account all the Earying de-grees of ministers in the hierarchy of orders and of juris-diction, the Church finds herself unable to attain by her-self an integral realization of her teaching mission. She must then--and this is so especially at the present time-- have recourse to the assistance of her other members. In our own times how providential has been the appeal to the laity to collaborate with the Church and to feel them-selves united in the action of the Church as participants in the mission of the Church. If she used only the hier-archy, how could the Church exercise among all nations her entire teaching function of formal religious training and of Christian formation by means of general teaching? Let us here recall that the Church seeks the aid and collaborati6n of other persons in a twofold way. First of all, the Church stresses the duties which flow from the natural law. So, for example, with regard to the family, it pertains to the parents to pro~)ide their children with an education. The Church calls them to fulfill this ob-ligation and to exercise their inalienable and pressing rights. Perhaps we too easily forget that families have an obligation to obtain for their children an education and that a Christian one. Besides this, the Church recalls the duty which devolves on every Christian as a result of baptism and confirmation'. Every Christian has the d~ity of radiating God, of making God known. Karl Marx, I believe, once said: "It is easy to be a saint if one is not solidary with society, if one does not feel responsible for society." What is true for every man in so far as he is social is particularly true for every member of (he Mystical Body. Each one is bound to the others by reason of baptism and confirmation. In an important text St. Thomas declares that "the con-firmed by reason of his state has the obligation of making the Church kno~vn, of defending her, and of spreading the doctrine of the Church." This is why the Church faces each Christian with his duty to collaborate. She emphasizes the consequences of baptism and of confirmation; and natu-rally she urges these consequences especially in the case of those whose situation permits them to aid her more easily. This is the reason why she.insists so solicitously that all Catholic educators be faithful to their baptismal com-mitments. These commitmems, it is true, are proper to all Christians; but among educators the practical possi-bilities are much greater. All Catholic educators, no .mat-ter at what level they teach, precisely because they are ÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 5O7 + ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS Catholic, should feel th~ obligation they.have to exercise their educative charge for the purpose of aiding the Church to realize her mission. I state this here because it is highly important that re-ligious teachers, when .preparing future teachers, should recall this fundamental duty of every Christian without consideration of membership in this or that association. It is not Only the teachers and other instructors belonging to organizations of Catholic Action who are bound to exercise the apostolate of teaching; every'teacher and every professor is so bound. Religious who form teachers must show them their special responsibility for this com-munication of truth and of Christian truth. There is a duty to radiate truth, divine.truth. His Excellency Bishop Ancel has recalled to us the missionary character of the school; the foregoing is an occasion to realize, propagate, and radiate this missionary character. The Church has recourse to the cooperation of the laity by giving them a particular charge, by conferring on them a mission and a responsibility, and by making them sharers in her own mission and rights. There is no doubt that the Church can commfinicate to others ithe mission that is proper to herself. This she does through the various de-grees of the hierarchy which are of ecclesiastical institu-tion. Nevertheless, the Church's power of delegating her proper mission is not limited to persons engaged in the hierarchy of jurisdiction or orders. She can also com-municate it to other persons without at the same time mak-ing them enter the hierarchy. It is in this way that she calls the laity to participate in her mission and hence to act and to teach in the name of the Church. The Church realizes this communication by making use of the riches of the kind of priesthood given to every Christian in baptism. To the title proper to baptism there is added a further title which unites itself to that of Christian and which is given to the Christian by the Church. It would be disastrous to build up in the Church an almost impregnable wall between the hierarchy and the faithful as though the hierarchy were the only active element and the faithful were p.urely passive. All of us know that according to the divine will a difference exists between clerics and laity, between :the various members of the hierarchy and those who are not part of the hier-archy. There can be no question of making the Church a democracy; nevertheless, those who are not members of the hierarchy do not form an exclusively passive element. Every Christian must be active; and, in some cases, the Church adds a further title to the activity of every Chris-tian. About this possibility of delegation there can be no doubt. On October 5, 1957, during the Congress of the ~.Apostolate of the Laity,' Plus XlI clarified once and for all this possibilityof communicating to the laity a mis-sion, a mandate, a canonical mission. "It is the same canonical mission," he said, "that the Church wishes to communicate to priests and to lay persons; but it'is exer-cised by the former in so far as they are priests; it will be exercised by lay persons in so far as they are lay persons."8 This communication of the Church's proper mission to lay persons can be realized in different degrees. In the Church there is a providential and.remarkable variety of forms. The Church is a living ~and fecund reality; she pos-sesses within herself an abundance of riches which she manifests in the course of history according to the needs of the times and of the persons she must lead to God."Ac-cordingly the teaching mission, of the Church can be com-municated tO lay persons in a greater or lesser degree, (When I speak of a lesser degree, I have no intention of minimizing the role of those who participate in the mis-sion of the Church in a limited degree. Every vocation in the Church is excellent and we must avoid comparisons for they are always odioug.) The lesser degree is that which the Church entrusts to lay persons who juridically remain in the position of simple lay persons. The fact that they are invited to work with the Church does not separate them from other lay persons; it does ,not make them a special class in the Church. They rerfiain lay persons liv-ing in the world under the same conditions as the other faithful. Nevertheless, one can say--I am thinking here espe-cially of Catholic Action organizations--that the Church adds a new title to that which these Catholics already possess as private persons. They possess their private title as well as a title given, to them by civil authority for the exercise of the profession of teaching. (When I speak here of civil authority I am referring to the area in which civil authority is competent; unfortunately we all know from experience that it can exceed its competency.) Civil au-thority for the sake of the public good can organize the preparation required for the exercise of certain functions. To this title which lay persons possess the Church adds a supplementary title, an ecclesial one, which, as I have said, does not remove them from their fundamental con-dition. Their association with the educative mission of the Church is, let us say, a generic one; it involves a part of their time and Of their capabilities; it ennobles their work and gives them a certain representativeness of the Church. s Les Lai'ques dam l'Eglise. Documents du DeuxiOme Congr~s Mon-dial pour l'Apostolat des Lai'ques, Rome, 5"13 octobre, 1957. V. 1, pp. 14-16. + + + The Tea~hlng Sister VOLUME 21, 19(:,2 509 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In the Congress on the Lay Apostolate which I.have al-ready mentioned, Cardinal Montini in the course of a conference treated the different degrees of ecclesial repre-sentativeness conferred on lay persons; he emphasized the role which they.possess o[ representing the Church in a more or less varied way according to the varying ecclesial context. One must not think that a member of Catholic Action is representing the Church in all his actions and in all his different activities. The Cardinal also emphasized the fact that the repre-sentative role of lay persons is proportioned to the ec-clesiastical character of the profession and of .their activ-ity; they are not representative of the Church in everything and for everything. A Catholic professor, for example, is not the representative of the Church in his other activi-ties; he possesses an ecclesial personality which is limited to a determined sphere and to a special sector; in other words he possesses a mandate. Even here the degree of representativeness is not always the same; and the passage from ecclesial representativeness to individual activity is a gradual one. On different occasions the ~sembly of the Cardinals and Archbishops of France have clearly deline-ated the mandate that is given to lay persons; likewise. Pius XII spoke of the mandate conferred on Catholic Action: "Carry. out the mandate which the Church has given to the members of Catholic Action." Here again there is question of a mandate which leaves lay persons in their proper situation; it organizes them indeed into a juridical entity, but this entity is not so profound or so absorbing as to change their condition. The mandate of collaboration with the Church which is conferred on the members of Catholic Action, while it is a true mandate, yet does not transform their juridical condition: they re-main private persons. Over and beyond this lesser degree of representativeness of the Church there is a greater degree given to lay per-sons; it involves a greater degree of association with the teaching mission of the Church; it is the degree given to religious who are destined and consecrated to education. To these the Church communicates a mandate and a mis-sion which makes them share her proper mission in the highest degree possible short of entrance into the ranks of the hierarchy. I would almost say that teaching religious reach to the very limits of the hierarchy. Nevertheless, we must .not be presumptuous and desire to enter the hierarchy. However, religious devoted to edu-cation are completely invested with an ecclesial function; by this fact they become representatives of the Church--, always and in all their actions and activities. In the action and activities of religious we can not introduce the dis- tinctions which can be made in the case of ordinary lay persons. Since they are entirely consecrated to the mission of the Church, they are completely invested with this ec-clesial representation; they no longer work as private per-sons called by reason of their profession to aid the Church and to collaborate with her in cert~iin ways according as time and the dutiesof their state in life permit. Religious, however, have only one duty in their state of life: to work for the Church and in the name of the Church. Religious do not merely have one title which is added to another; rather their title and their rights are conferred on them entirely by the Church. Both in educa-tion and in teaching they possess a mandate given them by. the Church, and the juridical position they enjoy is entirely communicated to them by the Church. This does not exclude the fact that to this ecclesial title there may be added other titles; for example, that given them by families. Families have the right to choose the educators of their children; hence they can choose re-ligious. In this case the family communicates its rights to these religious. Nevertheless, their fundamental right remains the one communicated to them. by the Church herself. So also the state can give a title to religious, but tills will always be a secondary one. The right of religious to teach depends neither on the will of the parents nor on the will of the state. We realize, of course, that parents have a right to teach and this independently of the Church. Religious teaching goes back to the Church who communicates her rights and her obligations to religious as her ministers. Accordingly religious are invested with a mission and a mandate that is totally ecclesial; it is such at every moment and in every circumstance. The teaching done by religious is performed in the Church for the good of the Church in the name of the Church. Religious, let it be repeated, are invested with the very personality of the Church. It is the Church, a per-fect society and a juridical one, that teaches and instructs through them. This should be clearly fixed in the minds both of superiors and of teaching religious. Perhaps some may think that I insist overly much on the idea that religious have an ecclesial mandate. I think, however, that it is fundamental because all their obliga-tions and r!ghts flow therefrom. Their responsibility is rooted in this communication of a mandate, in this ec-clesial function which, as I have said, becomes their whole reason of existence. They do not contribute their, hours of time accordingly as their taste impels them to their work; they are not their own masters; they belong to the Church and precisely for this function. They have a moral and juridical obligation in conscience to be at the disposi- + + + The Teaching Si~ter VOLUME 21, 1962 511 ÷ ÷ ÷ llliO Gambarl, S.M .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tion of the Church and to perform everything that the Church demands of them. One can and should apply to teaching religious the magnificent remark of Pius XII to hospital religious at the Congress of 1957: "It is the Church that supports the feeble steps of the old." And the Pope went on to give an almost poetic description of the Church which in the per-. son of the hospital sister assists the dying, the newly born, the aged; this description the Pope repeated in his great encyclical Sacra Virginitas. Pius XII was a poet but also a jurist. What the Pope said on these occasions to hospital. religious is also true of all religious and of teaching re-ligious in particular. While charitable assistance, hospital or social, can be assumed by other organizations, religious formation can not be; it is proper to the Church. Hence the statement made by the Pope should be given a'juridi-cal justification; we must show its juridical foundation. The Juridical Foundation One can well ask how the teaching.religious becomes invested with a mandate; furthermore what arethe juridi-cal foundations of this mandate? To this we reply that the religiousis invested with a mandate because his institute has been established by the Church, because the constitu-tions and rules have been approved by the Church, and because the religious vows, since they are public, have been received by the Church. Establishment oI the .Religious Institute Religious institutes are juridical organizations formally founded by the Church for a definite apostolic purpose. The true founder of a religious institute is not this or that mother, or this or that saint. The formal founder is the Church; she is therefore for us holy Mother Church in a double sense. Founders only prepare the matter to which the Church gives the breath of life. The whole pur-pose of these institutes is entirely ecclesial; this purpose gives them an existence that is not a private matter but a public one; consequently their ,existence touches on the fundamental constitution of the Church. The juridical existence given by the Church to a re-ligious family is different in nature from the one she gives to pious ~issociations or unions of the faithful. One can say, I believe, wittiout fear of denial, that the establish-men~ of a religious institute has cfose analogies with the establishment of a diocese in the sense that the Church is territorially organized for all persons on the basis of dioceses while for some of these persons she is organized on the basis of religious institutes. A religious institute is not a mere spontaneous and free grouping either in its foundation or in its continued ex-istence; once the institute has been established and once one has entered it, one finds oneself linked with a juridi-cal organization which is obligatory both from the view-point of conscience and that of the society as such. While a member of an organization, of a confraternity, or even of Catholic Action, can withdraw for personal reasons without any obligation of giving an account of his de-cision to anyone, this is not the case for religious. They have entered a state that is intimately fundamental to the Church; they no longer belong to themselves but to the Church. It is important to note that a religious institute is not an organization of merely personal and individual perfec-tion and sanctification. The religious institute has a pub-lic function in the Church; it is the. official, juridical, public expression of the holiness of the Church. And it is remarkable to contemplate how in the course of centuries religion, pertaining as it does to individual and public perfection, has enriched itself with the fundamental and basic element that is the apostolate and how it has given rise to religious families essentially consecrated to holiness and the apostolate. This is especially interesting here in France where were born the first religious institutes of women consecrated to the apostolate: the different congregations of the Ursu-lines; the canonesses of St. Augustine of St. Peter Fourier; the Congregation of Religious of Notre Dame of St. Joan de Lestonnac; as well as many others. Besides it was in France that there grew up the congregations which have spread throughout the entire world (for example, the Daughters of Charity, the~ Sisters of St. Joseph). All of these are the first and highly significant examples of these institutes of holiness and the apostolate. What I wish to emphasize at this point is that in these institutes the apostolate is not an accessory, accidental, and secondary element; it is an essential one and as prin-cipal as is the pursuit of perfection. Moreover, this ele-ment of the apostolate shares fully in the institute's public and ecclesial character. The fact that the Church erects an institute for perfection and for the apostolate confers an entirely ecclesial character and mission on the institute. The document that establishes a teaching religious in-stitute determines its finality and its purpose by har-moniously combining the sanctification of its members and the apostolic ideal of education. The juridical ex-istence and character conferred on the institute are shared in by the mission which is assigned it. The apostolate of the institute shares in the juridical nature of the institute itself. Religious life in an institute destined for the apos-÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, $.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 514 tolate is a consecration to God both in perfection and in the apostolate; it is both a state of perfection and a state of the apostolate. Take, for example, the constitutions of the Ursulines, of the religious of the Assumption, and oI other teaching institutes; in them is to be found this fun-damentally apostolic element given them by the Church in such a way that these, institutes and these religious have their whole purpose of existence in this mission. Approbation of the Constilutions The Church not only gives an institute its juridical ex-istence but she also governs it, gives it rules and constitu-tions which derive their force not from the general chap-ter nor from the superior general but from the Church. Hence when the constitutions impose teaching, (t is the Church which imposes it. In this case teaching is not a private initiative stemming from the institute and its members; it is rather an imposition made by the Church, an imposition which may have been requested but which nevertheless does not cease to be a thing that comes from above. This is true to the extent that whatever religious do, they do by reason of a title communicated to them from above; that is, from the.Church. The constitutions, once they have received pontifical approval, become pon-tifical law. One Can and must say that the contents of these laws receive an ecclesial character. The document that establishes the institute and its con-stitutions brings it about that an ecclesial mandate and a canonical mission to teach is given to the institute and that through the institute it passes to the individual mem-bers. The activity of religious is not .left to their personal choice; it is entirely ruled by authority--by an authority that is not private in nature. The Holy Father Plus XII in his discourse to superiors general on February I 1, 1958 --and this applies also to all superiors--stated: "You govern with an authority that I have giyen you; you share in my authority." Accordingly, it is the authority of the Church that regulates the matter of teaching. Public Vows Let me now consider a third point which also illustrates that ecclesial character which perhaps was better ex-pressed in former times by the fact that institutes dedi-cated to teaching wanted from their origin to have a spe-cial vow of education. Thus ihe Ursulines, the canonesses, the Brothers of the Christian Schools took a vow to conse-crate themselves to teaching. This vow was a public one like the other vows of religion; hence it was accepted by the Church, sanctioned by the Church, offered to God ifil the name of the Church, and--what is most important-~ lived in the name of the Church. This vow expressed the public and ecclesial character of teaching. At the present time this public vow is not explicitly expressed because it is contained in the vow of obedience. Teaching is one of the principal elements of the vow of obedience. In teaching institutes 6he promises obedience above all with regard to being employed in teaching. This is true to such an extent that the articles of the constitu-tions which.concern teaching are not articles which simply oblige one to assume certain obligations; they are ,articles that touch the very purpose of the institute and which oblige in conscience; they regulate the specific purpose of the institute. Religious who have made a vow of obedi-ence are bound by reason of their religious profession to devote themselves to teaching. It is interesting to note how in the history of religious life of apostolic institutes a phenomenon took place that is identical with what hap-pened in the case of contemplative institutes. In their profession ceremonies nuns dedicated to prayer receive the book of the Divine Office in order that they might pray in the name of the Church. What has happened in the case of apostolic institutes? These religious are given the constitutions; through this they are given the children and all those who will benefit by their teaching; the result is that at profession there is realized for each member what was realized for the institute as such at the moment of its establishment and of the approval of its constitu-tions. It is at the moment of profession that the superior gives to the new religious the book of the constitutions and the mandate to work in the name of the Church; the religious is thus consecrated to God in and through teach-ing. The vow of obedience and its entire content gi~ie to the profession a public character; hence the apostolate of teaching also becomes public, exercised, that is to say, in the name of the Church. In the encyclical Sacra Virginitas the Holy Father extols the motherhood of religious who receive in trust young Christian generations to form them in the name of the Church or, better, to continue and de-velop the virginal fecundity of the Church herself. I have recently been reading an interesting study which develops the. comparison between the Church and the Blessed Virgin, between the Church and the religious, in their role of forming Christians. Pontifical Statements These fundamental juridical arguments have been re-echoed in numerous pontifical statements that present teaching religious as collaborators of the Pope. Plus XII at the Congress of Teaching Religious in 1951 thanked ÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 515 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, $.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 516 the members for the valuabl.e work of collaboration they give to the Vicar of Christ. The same Pope at the beatifica-tion of Rose Venerini recalled a remark of Clement XI to the future Blessed: "Madame Rose, you are helping Us to fulfill Our task and you are doing what We could not do by Ourselves; for this We thank you greatly." These words of Clement XI to Rose Venerini have been repeated on numerous occasions by sovereign pontiffs with regard to religious devoted to education. In a document of 1954 concerning teaching brothers sent by the Pope to Cardinal Valeri, the charge and the role confided to teaching re-ligious are emphasized. One could assemble a magnifi-cent anthology of such pontifical declarations relating to the association of teaching religious with the action of the Church, to the work they accomplish for the Church, and to the gratitude of the sovereign pontiffs who have said among other things: "What would We do without you?" Indeed, if religious should one day wish to call a strike in their schools, it is my belief that the greater part of Catholic establishments would be closed. But let us limit ourselves to a few texts: How could the Church have been able in past times to fully accomplish her mission without the help that hundreds of thousands of religious have given so zealously in the fields of education and of charity? How Could she do so in our own time? (Allocution of October 15, 1951). Thanks to the work of your motherly hands., the Church sustains the feebleness of old age; thanks to the tenderness of your hearts, she rekindles the souls of little orphans; and thanks to the ardor of your devotion, she assists the sick . " (Allocution of April 24, 1957). The Church then counts upon you as the appropriate in-struments which priests should use for the perfect formation of young womanhood (Allocution of January 3, 1958). The actual teaching of the Church puts special emphasis on the ecclesial char~icter of the religious; in and through her the Church realizes her purpose, communicates life, and fulfills the work of Christ her Spouse (Sacra Virginitas). Mission of the Teaching Religious Now I wish to emphasize briefly for you certain char-acteristics of the mission which religious have received {tom the.Church. This mission has a juridical, public, pontifical charac-ter. This sharing in the very mission of the Church is given to the religious not by the pastor who requests her for teaching catechism nor even from the bishop; it is given to her by the Pope, the Vicar of Christ. But since everything in the Church should be done according to order, this mission given to religiom by the Pope may be exercised in a territory only with the consent and ratifica-tion of the authority represented by the pastor of the diocese who, in accepting the community, g!ves it the freedom to exercise its work of the apostolate.4 The character of the mission, then, is pontifical; but it must be coordinated with the apostolate of the diocese. And here it is right to make religious realize the necessity of not being a closed city but rather an intense center of collaboration with all the apostolic activities of the dio-cese. It is necessary that each Teligious house be a source Of~ the apostolate not only within itself but around itself. Consequences I turn now to the consequences that flow from the mis-sion conferred on teaching religious by the Church. The first consequence is that the mission of the reli-gious is ecclesial and spiritual, Even if from an exterior viewpoint a religious seems to exercise a profession, this is only an external mark and appearance; interiorly the religious is an apostle; she represents the Church; she ex-ercises a ministry. This is wh~ Plus XII stated that teach-ing is a kind of priesthood and that the teaching religious participates in a certain sense in the priesthood (Allocu-tion of January 4, 1954). And Saint John Baptist de la Salle, who forbade his brothers to become priests since everyone in the Church has his own Cole and comparison should not be made among them, reminded the brothers that teaching is like a priesthood; in a.magnificent medi-tation (number. 195) he applied to teaching brothers everything that the Apostle said about the sacred min-ister: "You are the .dispensers of the mysteries of God; you communicate the bread of the word of God.''5 Like the minister of the altar, the educator breaks the bread of the word of God; he prepares Christian life, the meeting and communion with God. This character also marks the teaching of so-called profane matters. The teaching religious carries on the apostolate in and through teaching. Profane matters are not merely occa-sions for the apostolate of a teaching religious; the teach-ing of such is itself an apostolate. The Church has only an apostolic finality; and this is the ultimate purpose of a Christian school. The second consequence is that the religious has no personality other than the personality of the Church. Greatness implies duties; hence she must always act as befits this personality of the Church. Hence comes the ' See canon 497~ § 2. s See Fr. Michel Sauvage, F.Sc.X., "Finalit~ ~postolique de notre Institut d'apr~s les M~ditations pour le temps de la Retraite," in Bulletin des Frdres des Ecoles Ghrdtiennes, October, 19ill, pp. 131--43. 4. 4. 4" The Tea~hbtg Sister VOLUME 2I, 1962 517 4. 4. ÷ l~lio Gamba~i, S.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIG|O~JS 518 striking difference between secular teaching and religious teaching. The first is done by reason of a personal or par-ticular title in the name of the family or in the name of the state; the second has no other personality save that which is given by the Church. Hence it is that the sector of work is limited for religious, that their way of devoting themselves to teaching is subject to restraints. It is under-standable that superiors are sometimes embarrassed by this; and it may happen that they are heard to say: "Our state as religious, the framework of religious life, seems to be a hindrance in certain cases." This is possible; but is not such a disadvantage on the natural and professional level slight when compared to the immense benefit de-rived from their ecclesial character and when compared to the charge of personifying the Church in the exercise of the~teaching profession? To this title of representing the Church there may be added other ones: the charge entrusted to them by the parents who have the right to choose their own substitutes as the educators of their children; the charge entrusted by civil society. If there are elements of the religious life which consti-tute by their nature a hindrance and an obstacle to the. efficacy of education, then there is place for the appli-cation of the counsels of renovation and adaptation. We can not demand that students fit into our religious life; it is the responsibility of religious to adapt themselves to concrete circumstances in those things which concern their students. If properly understood, this can be done without sacrificing or eliminating the constitutix~e ele-ments of religious life. In any case the central idea here is this: the activity oi~ religious is not a profession; it is a kind of priesthood.; it is a ministry, an ecclesial one, which carries with it all the greatness and the responsibility proper to the educative ministry of the Church. The third consequence is that the religious has the right to teach, a right that is given by the Church. Anyone who attacks this right of religious and who hinders the exercise of this right, attacks the Church and the rights of the Church. Numerous documents show us that the Popes have intervened to defend religious and Catholic schools as pertaining to inalienable rights of the Church. One can not touch Catholic schools or teaching religious without touching the Church. One of the lessons of history is that those who wish to fight the Church begin by fighting teaching religious. This has happened in different countries and I have no doubt that it will happen again. The reason for this is that teaching religious in their teaching really radiate the . action.of the Church. Whoever possesses youth, possesses society; and whoever possesses society, possesses the state. Hence religious, since they have youth in their schools, exercise a definite influence on al! of society. His Excellency Bishop Ancel has reminded us of the need there is for religious who are capabl~ of teaching religion. According to canon 1373, § 2 those who attend secondary and. higher schools are to be instructed in Christian doctrine; the ordinaries are to see to it that this mission is fulfilled by zealous and well-prepared priests. Does this canon exclude teaching religious arid brothers from the teaching of religion? In their schools is it the work of priests to give the courses in religion? Not at all. Speaking personally and as one who teaches law, I would say that this rule does .not apply formally to institutions which are held by men and women religious. The insti-tutes of teaching religious have been established and or-ganized by the Church primarily for the teaching of re-ligion; it is this that they are bound to in the first place; for this their members must be prepared in a special way. This does not mean that they can teach independently of the bishop, for it is he who gives or confirms their man-date. The bishop, having accepted teaching religious, should not look elsewhere for teachers of religion if these religious meet the demands of religious teaching. The in-stitutes are thereby obliged to fulfil the necessary condi-tions, and the bishop has the right and duty to control how religion is taught in the schools held by religious in his diocese.~ A fourth and very important consequence is the re-sponsibility that flows from all this for religious. If they share in the mission of the Church, they also bear all her responsibility. It may sometimes happen that we forget that we are not sealed-off compartments in the Church, cells separated from all the rest. On the contrary, we exist as a function of the entire Church; if the personality of the Church is communicated to us, this involves not only all her rights but all her duties as well. Superiors and the sisters themselves can truly say that they carry on their shoulders the weight of the entire Church. This is not merely a manner of speaking; it is a reality which results from their universal mandate. The religious has a re-sponsibility that surpasses the limits of the parish and of the diocese to extend to the extremities of the earth; she has assumed the educative responsibilities.of the Church. Superiors as well as subjects must come to a realization of this responsibility which includes mission, duties, and rights. From this flows a fifth consequence: the serious re-eSee canon 13~6, 1381, §§ 2-3. + + + The Tearhing Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 519 Elio Gambari, $.M .M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 520 sponsibility that superiors have to provide for the forma-tion of true educators. It is not a question of preparing only young religious who are goo~t and delicate in con-science but who have only a rudimentary training for the task which awaits them. It is rather a question of forming servants of the Chur'ch who ought to respond to the needs and necessities of the entire Church. Greatness involves duties; and the. prestige of the Church herself is at stake. Pope Pius XII has enjoined us to see that the religious school is not inferior to other schools but rather superior to them even from the technical and professional view-point. And is it not the teacher above all that makes the superiority of a school? To give to a teacher the interior and exterior prestige .due to professional worth is a mis-sion interior to culture itself. We all rightly lament the decline in religious vocations; but it may be asked whether besides a numerical lack there is not also an insufficiency of quality. One of the best ways of increasing vocations is first of all to utilize to the utmost and to make the most of those whom the Lord has already sent. If superiors know how to communicate this ideal, to the young subjects who present themselves to their communities and if they succeed in organizing for them a program of formation which corresponds to the needs of the mission to be performed, the results will recompense the efforts expended. They will have placed at the disposition of the Church riches and forces of the utmost importance. We are all aware what the Church demands of religious in the matter of formation and how she is always developing and improving the course pre-paratory to the sacred ministries. The complaint is made that there are no vocations; but if we make an examina-tion of conscience, it can be asked whether there are not enough vocations because teaching is not sufficiently ecclesial. In one of his allocutions Pius XII stated: "One mark of the teaching that truly corresponds to the direc-tives of the Church is that it arouses vocations. When you have religious and priestly vocations in your schools, then you are sure that your teaching is truly ecclesial." But there is another aspect I would like to emphasize. It is true that there is a lack of vocations; but do we channel and utilize the vocations we possess? I am not speaking of physical powers, but of moral forces, intel-lectual and moral values and capacities. There will always be a disproportion with the needs of the school today and with the necessities that must be met. But what is im-portant is that superiors act in such a way that the reli-gious who have entered the institute at the call of God and of the Church should find themselves in the possi-bility of self-development and of giving to the institute, to. the Church, and to souls everything of which they are capable. For this it is necessary to educate them and to develop in them everything which they are capable of giving. I believe--and this is an entirely personal remark that we have not sufficiently formed our religious in their spiritual, apostolic, and professional aspects. His Excel-lency Bishop Ancel has told us of the duty of the cultural apostolate through one's profession. It is necessary that religious should have in the name of the Church and to give prestige to the Church a prestige from the cultural and professional aspect. How is it possible to conceive that persons who work and who study in order to improve their professional standing or for a higher salary should be superior from the professional viewpoint to persons who teach because of the love of God and of souls? But unfortunately it happens that we do not take sufficient account of cultural prestige. I do not mean that external prestige to which perhaps too much account is taken; I am referring to that interior richness which is so impor-tant and which ennobles your schools and the Church her-self. Conclusion I shall conclude my conference by saying that the ecclesial mission confided to religious is the continuation on earth of the mystery of the Incarnation; hence it is a prolongation throughout the course of the centuries of the role of the Blessed Virgin with regard to the Savior and to the Church. There is no Christian life that should not be marial. In particular does not the religious edu-cator find in the Virgin Mother an ideal example of her own vocation? She is more than an example, for she is the first educator and teacher, the one who has given us substantial Truth, the incarnate Word of God, the Truth of God. In the constitution Sedes Sapientiae the Pope held up before the eyes of those who form others as well as before the eyes of those who are to be formed the radiant image of the holy Virgin, the Seat of Wisdom, the Throne of the incarnate Word; she it is who, although not pertaining to the hierarchy, received from God the mission to give us the Word, the consubstantial Utterance; and it is still she who wishes to continue this mission through the work of each teaching institute and in each teaching religious. ÷ ÷ + The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 19~,2 521 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Psychological Needs in The Religious Context Thomas Dubay, S.M., is a faculty member of Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 South Carroll-ton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisi-ana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The strictest of religious orders have always agreed that their members must eat, drink, and ~'elax. Congregations may vary in the amount and quality of the food, beverage, and recreation they permit, but they are of one mind in principle: men and women have bodily needs that must be met; and if they are not met, nature will have its venge-ance. But we are not so well assured that religious commu-nities are fu!ly aware that their members have psychologi-cal needs every bit as real as their corporeal ones. We are not confident that even given the high contemporary in-cidence of mental disordel~s and the widespread popular literature dealing with man's psychological ailments, our present day religious men and women really grasp the concept of mental needs. And if this lack of confidence is realistically based, we are justified in suggesting that the psychological needs of priests, brothers, and sisters are often not met or at least are not met in as happy a way as we might hope. The Problem The mere experience of living some years in a religious community and especially the experience of working with the spiritual problems of consecrated souls make clear the fact that man does not live by bread alone. Only too fre-quently does one who works with religious meet persons who are beset with serious problems with apparently in-tangible roots, problems that are not due to physical ill-ness nor to a dislike for the religious life as such nor to ill will nor to difficulty with the vows. Unless he cuts off a full discussion by the prompt and pat solution, he will often find that the problem is due to poor adjustment in the community or to a lack of security or to inferiority feel-ings or to a whole collection of assorted fears or to an un-satisfied hunger for affection. And this is to say that the problem is psychogenic. A man or woman does not have to be neurotic or psychotic in order to suffer from psychologi-cal malnutrition. Just as the human person can be under-nourished in the bodily sense without being therefore seriously ill, so can he be underfed in the mental and emo-tional sense without being seriously deranged. But the similarity can be pushed a step .further. Just as prolonged and marked malnutrition.can issue in grave illness on the physical level, so can it on the mental. However, we are not directly concerned in this study with serious mental illness. We are not even concerned with illness as such. We are concerned with the simple fact that religious priests, brothers, and sisters have psychological needs in common with the rest of men, needs that must be satis-factorily met within the context of their vocations if they are to function normally, happily, and holily. Whence Psychological Needs? Only an imperfect being experiences need. This is so because need bespeaks a lack of something due: comple-mentation, aid, perfection. God does not need because He is the fullness of perfection. Man needs because he is in-herently imperfect, limited by his potencies. Man needs on three levels because he is subject to three types of imper-fection or limitation: physical, psychological, supernatu-ral. His eating, drinking, working, recreating are remedial of his physical needs. His prayers, reception of the sacra-ments, practice of the virtues are aimed at satisfying his supernatural deficiencies. He can grow normally on nei-ther of these two levels unless these needs and deficiencies are met. The same must be said of his psychological perfectibil-ity. Man is mentally and emotionally imperfect. He needs to grow and to be fed in his intellect and will and emo-tions. He has psychological needs that donning a religious habit does not delete. He may act as though these needs do not exist. He may ignore them, hoping that they will go away. But they will not. More than that, if they are neglected, they will catch up with him and make him pay a price for his foolishness. For the same reason that bodily needs arise from incom-pleteness and imperfection in the organism, so do psycho-logical needs arise from an incompleteness and imperfec-tion in one's mental-emotional life. Man needs precisely because he is an unfinished being seeking ends as yet un-attained. Meeting Psychological Needs in Religious Lile In God's providential plan for man, every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality develop-ment together with (and we might add, because of) their Psychological Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 523 $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity. Marriage aims not only at the preservation, and increase of the human family but also at the individual good o1! husband and wife, and that on all levels, physical, psycho. logical, supernatural. Such is true also of the religiou,,; state, for a vowed consecration to God is orientated toward. both individual and communal goods. From the point of view of the individual good the re-ligious life is directed toward the fulfillment of the. per. son's whole being, the actualization of as many of his po-. tentialities as possible. If it is true that the religious is imperfect on physical, psychological, and supernatural. levels, it follows that the institute must provide for the per-fecting process on all three levels, not only on the first and the third. If it does not so provide, it is harming both the individual and the group. A prolonged unsatisfied psycho-logical need leaves the human person truncated, ill at ease, unhappy, and even at times frustrated and neurotic. More-over, an ill personality is a marked hindrance to the achievement of sanctity. One may dispute whether a neu-rotic can be a saint, but he may not dispute the fact that neurotic tendencies are hurdles in the path to sanctity. They are imperfections, and imperfections can aid one in acquiring holiness only per accidens, incidentally. From the point of view of the common good, the insti-tute hui-ts itself likewise for the obvious reasons that a~ psychologically ill-adjusted member can cripple commu-nity effectiveness, peace, and joy. This member is himself less productive in that part of the community's apostolate committed to him, and he often enough is an impediment to the productiveness of his companions. For the same reasons, then, that a religious congrega-tion is interested in promoting the physical welfare of its members through ,satisfying their bodily requirements, so should it be concerned about furthering their mental wel-fare through meeting their psychological needs. What are these .needs? And how can they be met in the religious context? Realization of. Personal Worth The first of man's general psychological needs with which we propose to deal sends its tap root deep into meta-physical truth. This need sends up a cry from the depths of man's being, a cry that demands of a man that he eval-uate himself rightly, realistically, according to what he is. The metaphysical truth pertinent here is axiomatic: every being is good. Insofar as a thing is, it is valuable; it is a good, good for itself and good for others as well. Surely, to be is immeasurably better for a given reality than not to be. To be a reflection of the divine goodness is likewise a glory for Another. Since reality is good, worthwhile, valuable, it can come as no surprise that deeply hidden in man's psyche is a yearning that he recognize and acknowledge to himself his own value, his own worth. Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic value, that he isimportant, worth-while. Religious are no exception. Their psychology, like that of the rest of men, reflects the metaphysical law that being is good. Drastic consequences can follow in a man who is really .persuaded that he is worthless.,Selbconfidence is paralyzed and the energetic pursuance of a task becomes almost im-possible: Inferiority feelings may fill the conscious mo-ments of. each day and make healthy prayer and construc-tive thinking mere fond wishes. The man or woman who is devoid of a realization of personal worth is not thereby humble. He or she is ill, psychologically ill. A religious formation in postulancy, novitiate, or ju-niorate that "humiliates" the young candidates into think-ing that they are next to worthless has done both them and the institute a disservice. It is perfectly true that without God we are nothing, but it is just as true that we are not without God. With Him and from Him and through Him we are a great deal. A.realistic self-esteem is not incompatible with the deep-est humility. 0nly exaggerated selbesteem issuch. Christ Himself was well aware of His perfection and infinite worth, and yet He practised the most sublime humility. Priests, brothers, and sisters need to esteem themselves if they are going to be mentally healthy. And there are any number of just reasons for thi~ judgment of self-worth, all of them consonant with humility. We ought to rate ourselves highly because of our God-given rational nature, a nature that marvelously elevates us above the rest of visible creation. If God could judge on the day of'creation that the inanimate earth was "ex-tremely good," what must He think of man whom He placed at the peak of visible reality to rule it? The religious ought to rate himself even more highly because of his state of grace and his unspeakable destiny, the face-to-face vi-sion and enjoyment of the Trinity. He must be precious in the sight of this Trinity, for God became man for his sake and went to the death on a cross for him. What better proof can we have of our personal worth than the fact that God loves us? "For God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that those who believe in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting" (Jn 3:16). If God loves us, we must be lovable. Since God's love is communicative of the goodness that He loves, we must grant that He has a special love for re-ligious on whom He bestows the special goodness of a con-secrated vocation. ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~2~ A priest, brother, sister are good indeed. And honesty demands that they recognize their goodness. So does their psychological w~lfare. How can the religious life foster both a healthy selb esteem and a salutary humility? The norm must be reality, nothing artificial, nothing exaggerated, nothing.pseudo. Formation personnel must teach humility according to sound principles, such as those of St. Thomas presented in his Summa of Theology. They must not give postulants, novices, and juniors the impression that they are of small worth. They should not so harp on a candidate's faults that he imperceptibly imbibes the unhealthy conviction that he is thoroughly inferior and will be of little use in the apostolate. Like the rest of the human race a religious man or woman simply cannot function smoothly and ade-quately unless he is aware of his basic worth. Novice mas-ters and mistresses must teach this as well as the bases for genuine humility, God's excellence and our utter depend-ence on Him. Those engaged in formation work should heed theology's careful formulation of its concept of hu-mility. It is a virtue which moderates (not destroys) one's desire for his own excellence and prompts him to evaluate himself as he is. Humility, of course, prompts a man to love to be hidden in God and unknown among men, but this is not to say that it encourages inactivity or damages magnanimity. By it "each one regards the others as his superiors" (Phil 2:3), but this does not imply that a man deny his own good. Religious, superiors and subjects alike, foster a salutary sense of self-worth in their companions by a deep and sin-cere reverence, respect, and politeness. We may remark in this connection that those in authority precisely because they are in authority experience a special openness to fail-ure on this point. Especially can the superiors of large communities begin without realizing it to act toward the rank and file as though they were indistinguishable, in-habitants of the religious habit, almost mere numbers in a personnel register. When a higher superior, for example, treats a sister indifferently, coldly, or with an artificial smile or greeting, who can be surprised if the sister sees this coldness as a reflection on her personal value? If this sort of treatment is repeated by enough people, we can at least fear that this religious' need for a wholesome self-esteem is being shoddily met. What we say of superiors in this context applies also to companion religious.4 ll should show reverence to all: old toward young as well as young toward old, well-educated toward the less well-educated as well as vice versa. The fundamental reverence of religious for one another is founded on more substantial grounds than age and ad-vanced degrees. One may argue that people striving after perfection ought not to need small marks of politeness and esteem in order to maintain and further their psychologieal health. Possibly so. But the hard fact remains that these people are human and many of them do need this food for their personality growth. The common life, unless well lived, can have a damag-ing effect on a man or woman's need to be considered an individual. While this life is good and conducive to hu-mility, yet that goodness does not .imply that commonness and individuality must always be opposed. We feel that a religious' need for self-esteem is properly answered by small marks of indir~idual consideration: praise for a work well done, .greeting on his feast day, non-prying inquiry about the family back home, the noticing and considering of personal preferences. These marks of individual con-sideration are not merely psychologically beneficial for the recipient; they are supernaturally advantageous for the one bestowing. What are a word of praise, a feast day greeting, an interested inquiry, the recognition of a prefer-ence but the basic marks of the fraternal love religious are to have for one another: "As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me" (Mt 95:40). We must be careful that we do not restrict our fraternal love to pious affections at prayer. These latter must be prolonged into the hard arena of daily contact. A superior especially can contribute to a subject's sense of personal worth in a number of inconspicuous ways. A word of commendation for work well done means even more for a religious when it issues from his superior than when it comes from an. equal. Then, too, the man or woman in charge should not be above asking for ideas and opinions and advice from subordinates. Even aside from the obvious benefit that will accrue to him, he will aid his fellow religious in realizing that their views are valued and hence that they themselves have value. Further, a superior should be generous in providing an unrushed hearing to any who wish to approach him with their problems. This is especially true of religious women. One can easily ap-preciate the psychological harm done when a sister finds that her superior seldom has time to see her or, when she is available, b~ushes the sister off in summary fashion and with a pat a.nswer that solves nothing. The sister may draw the conclusion, and unfortunately there is basis for it, that administration and reports are more importantin the su-perior's eyes than the sister is. A superior should likewise make an effort to initiate and provide conveniences for individuals: the use of a car, a bit of extra rest, the pur-chase of a useful tool of employment, an unusual but needed permission. Superiors must be concerned not only with the common welfare of the group but also with the 4, 4. 4- Psychological VOLUME 21, 1962 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 52g particular needs o[ individuals. In large communities this kindly foresight requires a generous heart together with a gift for detail, but no one can deny that it contributes not a little to a family' spirit and a healthy sense of personal Worth. Finally, the superior should encourage his subjects to use their initiative and develop their talents. Even when he must refuse a permission in an "initiative matter," he should do so with open reluctance and should leave the re-ligious with the impression that more new ideas will be welcome in the future. Then there is the question of corrections. Badly exe-cuted they can do notable psychological damage, espe-cially with the young and with timorous souls beset with the fringes of inferiority feelings. As a class religious are better able to receive corrections with a reasonable out-ward equanimity, but one would be naive to think that most of them are exempt from a more or less deep inner pain. Nor are most exempt from sustaining psychological harm especially in their early years in the religious life from too frequent or clumsily executed corrections. We are not opposed to corrections. Healthy realism de-- mands that a man recognize the fact that he is going to err and to fail and that at times he will need correction if not for bad will at least for faulty judgment. But we are op-posed to damaging corrections, corrections that leave the subject with the limp feeling that he must be of small value to the community, rather tolerated than appreci-ated. To avoid this sort of result, a superior should correct with moderation as regards both frequency and manner. He should be on the lookout for mitigating circumstances and let the subject know that he recognizes their presence. He should rarely hop on first offences and be extremely circumspect about correcting in public or in the presence of others. In addition a sister superior especially (men at times need the same caution) must be fair and operate according to her intellect rather than her feelings. Unless she already possesses a sympathetic understanding of human weak-ness, she should attend carefully to the acquisition of a balance that steers a middle course between a laxity that overlooks everything and a rigorism that never winks at a defect. Sense of Accomplishment Closely allied to the sense of personal worth is the sense. of achievement or accgmplishment. The latter tends to in-sure the continuation of the former. If a man never achieves anything, he will soon doubt that he is worth anything. There is a deep metaphysical truth hidden in this psy-chological need just as there was in our previous one: op- eration follows on essence. As a being is, so does it act. A duck cannot act like a squirrel, and a borderline pupil cannot perform like a geni.us. And so if a man does not produce, he is likely to conclude (perhaps with a violation of logic) that he .cannot produce; and if he cannot pro-duce, he must not be much. Though the logic may be par-tially faulty, the damaging effect of repeated failure on one's sense of personal worth is a given fact of life. A saint may come through a series of this-world failures with his psychological equilibrium undisturbed, but that is due to the fact that he knows he is succeeding in the far more im-portant business of attaining God. Even a saint is not ex-empt from the laws of psychological needs and their ful-fillment. The priest's, brother's, or sister's need for some measure of success should be met predominantly in the realization that he is succeeding as long as he is pleasing God. This religious may be a poor preacher or a mediocre teacher; but as long as sincere effort springing from supernatural motivation is a part of the picture, he should experience a sense of accomplishment. He is succeeding. He is worth something. However, we must face the fact that even religious who are supernaturally motivated will be aided in maintain-ing a sense of personal value by at least moderate success in their fields. The responsibility of a religious community in aiding its members to achieve this success devolves chiefly on superiors, major and local. They can discharge this duty in several ways, 1. Major superiors should see to it insofar as such is possible that religious are adequately prepared for the tasks to which they are assigned. This is especially true of the young woman who by nature is usually more appre-hensive about facing a new task than is a man. One does not need a lively imagination to gragp the impact felt in the heart of a young sister entering her first classroom knowing rather little about her subject matter and per-haps less about methods of teadaing and the keeping of discipline. She is going to have a hard time achieving a sense of competency, if she ever does achieve it at all. 2. On differing levels of responsibility both major and minor superiors must take care that they do not assign work too difficult for given subjects. One is asking for trouble if he assigns to the teaching of philosophy a man who is slow in abstract thinking or nursing to a woman who is short on practicality. 3. Again, both major and minor superiors must moder-ate the work load in their communities. A priest, brother, or sister who has too much to do is either going to suffer damage on the physical level by overwork or on the psy-chological level by the conflict resulting from his failure 4- 4- 4- Psychologiral Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 529 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to do it well. Time pressure and overwork are perhaps the single most urgent problem American religious, as a group face today. It has ramifications in more areas of the re-ligious life than is within the scope of this article to detail. Superiors should take it in hand--and resolutely. 4. Any modern business knows that if it is to survive, compete, and succeed, it must be housed in an adequate plant and be equipped with efficient tools of operation. If a religious is to be given a reasonable opportunity to com-pete with his secular counterparts in school or hospital and attain a sense of success in his work, he, too, needs adequate tools. Principals in our schools and administra-tors in our hospitals should see to it that their religious collaborators are given the equipment, books, and sundry aids that will enable them to achieve satisfactorily. 5. We are all aware that it is bad policy for a mother ceaselessly to correct her children from dawn to dusk. Ex-cessively severe discipline makes them nervous and can give rise to resentment feelings and/or an inferiority com-plex. But we may forget that a mature adult is not im-mune from these deleterious effects of an over correcting superior. While a religious superior has an obligation by reason of his office to secure the observance of the commu-nity's constitutions, he need not feel that nothing at all may be overlooked. Nor ought he to emphasize the failures of his subjects. If circumstances suggest that he discuss a notable failure with the religious responsible for it, he should discuss it. Yet at the same time he should praise what can be praised in the situation and he should assidu-ously avoid discouraging a timid person or one already prone to believe himself next to useless. Sister superiors especially need circumspection in this area, since women are probably more inclined than men to discouragement in the face of a difficult task. They need encouragement more than blame when they err. 6. Superiors and subjects alike can promote the sense of achievement in one another by the sincere commenda-tion of success. Most religious, we should hope, are ma-ture enough not to nourish a vanity over the compliments their cbmpanions pay them. If a particular relig!ous be-lies Our hope, we can for the most part skip complimenting him he has already too much of a sense of achievement. Others, however, are aided by a kind word of recognition, and we further their welfare by offering it to them. Such, then, are the first two general psychological needs that.must be met in the religious context: a realization of personal worth and a sense of accomplishment. We shall .pursue in a concluding article a discussion of further gen-eral needs of religious men and women, and we shall add several considerations concerning those of sisters in par-ticular. ROBERT J. ROTH, S.J. Contemplation in Action ¯A Clarification More and.more frequently in recent years the phrases "contemplation in action" and "finding God'in all things" are being used as titles of articles, books, and chapters in books. To a large extent, the treatment of these themes has been confined to technical works of asceticism written for religious, but these topics are beginning to find their way into articles and add(esses dealing with the lay apostolate and are being received with enthusiasm by the layman. This interest on the part 0f the layman has been in-spired in great measure by the growing appreciation of the important role that the laity must play in the apostolic mission of the Church. Laymen are everywhere urged to be mindful of the implications of baptism and confirma-tion whence flow their privilege and obligation to assist the hierarchy in the christianization of the world. Such activity is to be exercised by men and women in a wide variety of situations and in all walks of life. Further, one can easily see that a person engaged in.such activity needs a type of spiritual life which is suited for the work that is to be undertaken. An apostle, and here we mean primari!y the lay apostle, must be a very active per-son if he is to fulfill his commitments to his family and his job and unify these commitments in the fullness of the one Christian, apostolic life. He requires a spiritual life which is geared for action, which permits him to live a deep interior life in the midst of absorbing activity. No better theme could be chosen, it is said, than that expressed by the phrases "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." Moreover, an. appeal is sometimes made to authority in the person of St. Ignatius Loyola who exemplified in his life the ideals contained in these phrases and who incorpo-rated them into a type of spirituality which is known as "Ignatian." One can cite texts from his writings where he ÷ ÷ ÷ Robert J. Roth, s.J., is professor of phi-losophy at Fordham University, Ford-ham Road, New York 58, New York. VOLUME 21, 1962 Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FO~ RELIGIOUS enjoins the shortening of .the time given to formal prayer so 'that the apostle c~n be off and away on some apostolic venture. The ideal Ignatian man is portrayed as one streamlined for action, unhindered by long periods of prayer and liturgical service. Such a man must be able to do without long spiritual exercises and in this he is not taking anything away from God. Rather he must be a "contemplative in action," he must learn to "find God in all things." Naturally this ideal will appeal to the active man who has already experienced the di~culty of joining a dee[, spiritual life with an intensely active one. It is especially appealing, perhaps, to the American, who, not without reason, is called the activist, the practical man, the man of action. That such interest in working out an appropriate spirit-ual life has been awakened in recent years is a clear sign that many people, both cleric and lay, are becoming alive to the sense of what it means to be a" Christian, to be a member of the Mystical Body. It would be unfortunate, however, if one were to stop short at catch phrases and to use them in entirely different ways while remaining under the illusion that he is using them in their original sense. Whatever else was meant by the phrases "contemplation: in action" and "finding God in all things," they never stood for a heedless rush into external activity, a substitu-tion of external work for a deep interior life or of action for prayer. This is not to say, at this point at least, that such substitutions are harmful. That they are harmful will, I hope, become clear as we proceed. But what we wish to emphasize first is that such substitutions radically alter the meaning which these phrases originally had. Therefore, as long as interest has been aroused regard-ing the type of spirituality best ~uited for the lay apostle in modern times, it would be profitable to examine closely our two phrases in their historical context so that we may understand their original meaning.1 At the end of the dis-cussion, some may judge that such a meaning has little validity/today; but at least we shall, have satisfied ourselves that we have examined the matter carefully, and, by way of elimination at least, our future procedure will be a bit clearer. Actually, in the judgment of the present writer, 1 Perhaps the best treatment in English of this subject, a work which was followed closely in the preparation of this paper, is Joseph F. Conwell, s.J., Contemplation in Action: A Study in Ignatian Prayer (Spokane: Gonzaga University, 1957). Other excellent works on the same subject are: Jean Danidlou, "The Ignation Vision of the Universe and of Man," Cross Currents, 7 (1957), pp. 357-66; Alexandre Brou, S.J., lgnatian Methods ol Prayer (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1949); Alexandre Brou, S.J., The Ignatian Way to God (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1952); William J. Young, S.J. (ed.), Finding God in All Things: Es-says in lgnatian Spirituality (Chicago: Regnery, 1958). anyone who understands the meaning of these phrases will see implications which are valid for the contemporary layman. In order to understand the meaning given by Ignatius to the two phrases in question, it would be well to examine the prayer proper to the order which he founded since the two phrases are really expressive of that prayer. In turn, the nature of !gnatian prayer can best be understood by examining the end oi- purpose 9f his order. Our proce-dure, then, will be through an examination of the purpose of the Society of Jesus to come to an understanding of Ignatian prayer and thence to an understanding, of the two phrases under discussion. What, then, was the nature of the new order founded by Ignatius Loyola in the middle of the :sixteenth "century? Its purpose, perhaps broader than any yet envisioned, was the salvation and perfection of self and of neighbor, in-cluding the defense and propagation of the. faith and the spiritual and corporal works of mercy--in brief, any work that had in view "the greater glory Of God and the good of souls." What must be emphasized is that the goal envisioned in-cludes salvation and sanctification of others as well as of self. At first glance, this goal may not seem to be particu-larly unique. The mendicant orders of the late Middle Ages had already, dedicated themselves to apostolic ac-tivity. Moreover, the second great commandment has al-ways been love of neighbor; and every spiritual orienta- .tion, whether it be of a religious order or of an individual Christian, goes out to others as well as to self. Even a con-templative religious or a bed-ridden layman can further the spiritual welfare of his neighbor by example, prayer, and sacrifice. This is at the center of the whole doctrine of the Mystical Body and has been given expression in a beautiful way by Pope Plus XlI in his encyclical: Deep mystery this, subject of inexhaustible meditation: that the salvation of many depends on the prayers and voluntary penances which the members of the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ offer for this intention, and On the assistance of pastors of souls and of the faithful, especially of fathers and mothet;s of families, which they must offer to Our divine Savior as though they were His associates3 But what is perhaps unique in the Ignatian goal, giving it a distinctive note, is the importance accorded to the ÷ salvation and sanctification of neighbor. This aspect 'is ÷ not accidental but essential to the Ignatian ideal, and the Ignatian apostle will fail in his vocation if he does not Contemplation deeply concern himself with others.3 In this respect, one in Action ~ The Mystical Body oI Christ (New York: America Press, 1943), p. 21. s There is no attempt here, of course, to minimize the primacy of VOLUME 21, 1962 Robert Roth~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS can look upon the salvation and perfection of self and that of neighbor not as two goals but as two aspects or compo-nents of a single goal. Or to put it in another way, concern for self and concern for neighbor as described above move in a circle (in this case not a "vicious" one!); that is, the more one perfects himself through contact with God, the more he can accomplish for his neighbor. And in.turn the more one labors for others the more he develops virtues within his own soul; for example, charity, zeal, patience, humility, faith, confidence in God, and self-sacrifice. This concept breaks completely with the picture some-times given which compares the perfection within the soul to a reservoir storing up water to be carried off to whatever place may need it without any return to the source. Work for neighbor shou!d not be considered ex-clusively as a drain on one,s supernatural resources; it can also be a means of increasing the perfection within the apostle's soul.4 This orientation will have its effect on one's outlook towards his natural talents, gifts, skills, and abilities. These are given not merely for the furthering of one's own su-pernatural development. They must be brought to their highest potential and used to their fullest capacity in order to advance the we/fare of others. This orientation has an effect too on the direction given to the life which one leads. Whereas members of the older, monastic orders, and to a large extent of the newer mendicant orders, dedicated themselves primarily to formal prayer, long "liturgical services, especially solemn Mass and the chanting of the Divine Office, the members of the order founded by Ignatius sharply curtailed these exercises and gave them-selves wholeheartedly to the active apostolate in any work dictated by time and plaice. We are now in a position to move from the Ignatian goal to Ignatian prayer. First of all, if the former is apos-tolic, so too is the latter. It is designed to help souls. Ft. Joseph Conwell, S.J., states that this affectsthe orientation one's own salvation and sanctification. We need only to recall St. Paul's precaution against becoming a castaway. But the opposite ex-treme should also be avoided where, out of selfishness or excessive caution and fear or even sloth,.one would ignore the salvation and sanctification of others. In this regard, we would raise the question as to whether an individual could s:ive his own soul by deliberately excluding the salvation of neighbor, or whether he could reach the full perfection of the Christian life without being deeply concerned with the spiritual welfare of neighbor by prayer, example, sacrifice, and, when possible, good works. ~ Even this picture should not be exaggerated, for again we must recall St. Paul's warning and also his remedy against exhaustion of spirit which consists in refreshing the soul from day to day (9 Cor 5:16). The main point made here, however, is that work for one's neighbor should not be considered a mere waste as far as one's per-sonal spiritual development is concerned. of prayer rather than its content. Prayer should arouse a great thirst to help souls; otherwise the devotion found in in prayer, even though good in itself, would be danger-ous. 5 When the Ignatian apostle prays, he is no longer praying as an individual. He prays as one intimately in-volved in the apostolic mission of the Church. Conse-quently his prayer is to be a help for the souls of others as well as for his.own soul, and his prayer is to be the in-gpiration of apostolic activity. Secondly, at times the individual will have to curtail the periods devoted to formal prayer in order to engage in the apostolate. This helps us to understand the some-times strong statements of St. Ignatius arid of Father Jer-ome Nadal who officially interpreted find promulgated the Constitutions of the newly-fo~'med order, against cer-tain prominent members of the order. These latter had a tendency to look upon prayer as an end rather than as a means and to place perfection in the passing of long hours inprayer and penance.~ It was necessary to censure protracted recollection and solitude, and by these were meant such as would withdraw one from the task of help-ing his neighbor. There will be times when the apostle must forego.the consolation and quiet of formal prayer in favor of the active apostolate. In doing this he should .not be disturbed but should be assured that he is acting according to his vocation. But one must point out with equal emphasis that the apostle cannot entirely forego recollection and solitude. This balance, I think, is an answer to those who would view the Ignatian ideal as an excuse for feverish activity without the quiet of formal prayer and recollection. As we shall see, the emphasis on shortening formal prayer would seem to be relative; relative, that is, to the amount prac-ticed by other orders while the amount that is left is con-siderable. Let us pursue the matter a bit further. So far we have seen that the Ignatian goal is apostolic, that it comprises the he!p of self and of neighbor, that these two cannot be attained in separation, ~hat consequently Ignatian prayer is apostolic, aimed at helping others as well. We are now able to understand that which was unique in Ignatian prayer, especially in its relation to activity. There is one way of explaining this relationship which, while good and salutary, isnot precisely Ignatian. Accord- ~ Conwell, op. cir., pp. 69-70. 0 In taking their stand; neither St. Ignatius nor Father Nadal had any intention of passing judgment on the superiority of one type of religious order over another. It was a question of clarifying the goal and hence the spirituality proper to the Society of Jesus. This task took some time since.in important ways the orientation of the new order differed from that of others existing at the time. See Brou, The Ignatian Way to God, Chapter 7 and passim. + + + Contemplation in Action VOLUME 211 1962 535 4. 4. 4. ing to this view, one would look upon prayer and activity as two distinct steps. Thus one would engage in formal prayer in order to receive grace, motivation, and inspira-tion for apostolic activity. He then turns from prayer to activity and in the course of that activity prayer as such ceases. In fact, activity may be looked upon as an obstacle to prayer, something to be taken up and completed after which one returns to prayer. Ignatius wanted more than this. He wanted to bridge the gap, to eliminate the line, as it were, between prayer and activity. There are not two stages but only one; that is, continued prayer and contemplation even in the midst of action. In this sense, action literally becomes prayer. Ft. Conwell expresses it as follows: It is not enough, therefore, that prayer incline to the apos-tolate; it should carry over to the work itself. There can be no question of a life of prayer and a life of action with a huge gulf in between. Prayer should not only incline to the apostolate but bridge the gap between them, even more, close the .gap, fill the gap, so that no gap exists between prayer and actxon . Not only does prayer lead to action, not only does it accompany a man as he crosses the threshold of the apostolate, but it pene-trates the entire action. Not only is there a connection between prayer and action, but a vital union of the two, the same spirit vivifying both. Action has become a prolongation of prayer, or to put it another way, prayer is prolonged by action itself? We can see, then, that the purpose of both prayer and apostolic activity are the same; namely, union with God. This means first of all union of intellect where under the divine light we share His vision of the universe. In some dim but definite way we have in the very course of our activity an increasing awareness of the divine mission of salvation and sanctification carried on by the Mystical Body in the people with whom we come in contact and in the circumstances and events in which we find our-selves. All things great and small--the whole created uni-verse in its natural and supernatural dimensions, the events of i~dividual~ and of nations, the growth of the Church, ordinary, everyday events--all become meaning-ful as we see in them the unfolding of the divine plan. Union with God in prayer and activity means also a conscious union of the will with God, especially in charity. It is charity which brings the individual to prayer and action and it is charity which consciously animates his actions, giving them meaning, direction, and unction. In being united more fully to God by charity, the soul also comes to love more fully the divine plan of salvation and all things in Him; love moves out also to one's neighbor, and this in turn inspires him to spend himself the more in works of zeal for the salvation and sanctification of the world. ~ Conwell, op. cit., pp. 72-73. All this applies not only to works which are in them-selves apostolic, for example, the preaching of the word of God or the dispensing of the sacraments, nor does it apply only to works upon which one has just meditated and to which he goes under the proximate impetus of that prayer. It applies also to works upon whi~:h he'has not specifically meditated and to works, events, and circum-stances which are not directly apostolic; for example, the teaching of mundane subjects and even the directing Of games for active youngsters. Hence the apostle contem-plates and finds God in the action, any action, which he is performing and performs the action precisely because in it he does find God. Viewed from this aspect, activity need no longer be looked upon as an obstacle to prayer. "The revolution accomplished by St. Ignatius showed that that which ap-peared to be an obstacle could become a means.''s Ac-tivity now joins hands with prayer in enabling the soul to attain union with God, to "find God in all things," in action as well as in prayer. It is from this viewpoint, too, that St. Ignatius himself along with the apostle whom he attempts to fashion is called a "contemplative likewise in action," and the prayer that he practices is termed "con-templation in action." Moreover prayer of this kind does not withdraw a per-son from action nor does it distract the active person from being absorbed in the matter at hand. It enables him to go deeper into i.t, to immerse himself in it precisely be-cause in doing so his intellect understands deeper dimen-sions of the divine plan and his will is consumed with greater love for God and for all His creatures. What has been said should be enough to help us catch a brief glimpse of the profound meaning behind the Ig-natian phrases, "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." They express the spiritual orientation achieved by Ignatius himself during his own lifetime of continued growth in holiness and union with God. They express also the ideal which he proposed for the members of his own order. We must, of course, recognize that it is an ideal which in its fullness will be achieved but rarely by his followers; but it is nonetheless one which can be striven for and attained in increasing perfection according to God's grace and one's cooperation with grace. We may now ask about the training which Ignatius prescribed for the members of his order so as to bring them to such a high ideal. First of all, it cannot be the result merely of daily morning prayer, as though the thoughts and affections that unite one to God in the morning medi-tation carry through the day so that we find God in every- Jean Dani~lou, op. cit., p. 364. 4. 4. 4. Contemplation in dction VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU~ 538 thing. "This is an oversimplification. For there is besides a deeper continuity with a richer and broader and deeper background of prayer than the morning meditation."" There are presupposed the various trials of a two year novitiate with a retreat of thirty days in which the indi-vidual experiences the full Spiritual Exercises or Ignatian retreat. It is the Spiritual Exercises which lay a foundation for the development of a life in God. They develop a deep union of the soul with God by bringing about the illumi-nation of intellect and impulsion of will so important for the attainment of the ideal of Ignatian prayer. In addi-tion, it is presupposed that the individual will continue a program of spiritual practices which include daily Mass, mental prayer, and two examinations of conscience, and throughout the year an annual retreat of eight days and the other ascetical practices necessary for growth in holi-ness. From all this it is clear how superficial is the inter-pretation which sees in the notion of contemplation in action an invitation to set aside any concept of a deep spiritual life so as to rush off into activity. In the course of our discussion, we have insisted on the original meaning of th~ two phrases in question and on the type of spiritual program needed to reach the ideal contained in these phrases. It would be inaccurate, not to say disastrous, to interpret this as an attempt to belittle or hinder the progress made in recent years in helping the Christian to find God more easily in his daily life and to make his prayer life more consciously the inspiration of his apostolic activity. Beyond this there is more than mere pedantry at stake. At its worst, a lack of precision in this regard can lead to the .tendency to do away with a deep spiritual life in favor of activity. "At last we have a 'spir-ituality of action' which enables us to maintain a program of feverish activity without too much worry about a life of prayerI" That such an attitude is naive in the extreme and for-tunately is encountered only occasionally may well be true. Yet one has the feeling that even more careful treat-ments of the question miss the heart of the problem. For if the original meaning.is maintained, a high ideal is pro-posed without a full appreciation of what is required to reach the goal. This can lead to discouragement on the part of those who strive for it and fail because they are ill-prepared. And if the original meaning is diluted, we lose contact with the initial insights of Ignatius'as well as the high ideal proposed by him. Consequently there is also lost the possibility that some lay people today may aspire to this ideal and find in it a means of reaching sanctity in their lay lives. ' Conwell, op. cit., p. 85. We must be aware, of course, that if the layman is to strive for sanctity it cannot be a question of living the life of a religious in the world. And here we have in mind the layman who marries, raises a family, holds down a job, and so forth. This brings up the problem, one which we shall not even attempt to ~tnsw~r here, Of just how such-a person can attain sanctity through an intensely apostolic life. At present we merely suggest that the answer would seem tolie in the direction of discovering what lay spirit-uality really is rather than in watering down the spirit-uality of religious for the layman. This would apply to the lgnatian ideal as well as to any other. We suggest further that there are many aspects of the Ignatian ideal which will provide valuable insights for working out a solution to the problem. This suggestion be-comes especially meaningful when we recall the back-ground of the Spiritual Exercises in which are found the principles of "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." The Spiritual Exercises were primarily in-tended neither for Jesuits nor for prospective candidates to the Soicety of Jesus. Anyone can make them. And though Ignatius gave prudent suggestions as to how much of.the Exercises should be given, depending on the health, intelligence, spiritual progress, and occupation of the ex-ercitant, it is clear that he envisioned the possibility of giving to the layman, for the perfection of his life in the lay state, the full Exercises, containing as they do all that we have said about the phrase~ under discussion.1° In any case, our discussion of Ignatian prayer as applied to members of a p9rticular religious order should point up the importance of careful training for the attainment of the ideal proposed. St. Ignatius fully realized that he was aiming high, and he did not leave anything to chance. Hence, whatever form the phrases "contemplation in ac-tion" and "finding God in all things" may take for the layman, if a high ideal is to be maintained there is de-manded a carefully developed spiritual program. That some program is necessary is clear to anyone who takes seriously the statements of recent sovereign pontiffs regarding the deep spiritt~al life needed by those who en-gage in the lay apostolate and Catholic Action. This is true even if we limit ourselves to an ideal not quite as de-manding as the one proposed. So much more true is it for the one under discussion. St. Ignatius, in drawing up the plans for his order, was facing a concrete situation with a concrete spirituality. One could ask whether one man can do the same today for the layman in terms of his concrete situation. It would The Spiritual Exercises of St, Ignatius, trans. Louis J. Puhl, S.J. (Westminster: Newman, 1957), "Introductory Observations," pp. 7-9. 4- 4- 4. Contemplation in Action VOLUME 21, 1962 539 take a very gifted and saintly man. :Perhaps we lesser mor-tals will have to recognize our limitations and Open our minds to the possibility that the task can be done by a team of men, both cleric and lay, pooling their resources to work out-under God's inspiration a spiritual life which will enable the layman truly to be a "contemplative in action," to "find God in all things." + + + Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 THOMAS RADLOFF, S.J. Interpersonal Relationships Christlikeness is the goal of Christian asceticism. The purpose of novitiate and seminary training is essentially a matter of taking the given material of youth--as it is-- and orientating it to a personal commitment to Christ. The basic structure of this asceticism is an interpersonal relationship geared to the Pauline "I live now, not I, but Christ Jesus." Within the structure ~of this relationship, grace building on nature is the dynamic force achieving growth in the deiform life of Christlikeness.1 Neither gra~e nor nature exist in a vacuum; rather, God gives individualized graces that are tailored to the needs of individualized human nature. Youths come to novi-tiates and seminaries already conditioned by environment. The uniqueness of this youth and the uniqueness of his vocational graces must be taken into account if he is to be effectively saturated with the highest spirituality summed up in the epitome of Christlikeness: to love God and to love others.~ " The following pages offer some few, limited reflections on the two great commandments and. the relation of these two commandments to the already conditioned human nature they are meant to permeate. 1 The concept of the life of grace as an interpersonal relationship is not new, but it is a notion that is rece