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The American Civil War is one of the defining events in American history. Abundant studies cover every aspect of the conflict, from strategic analysis to the material culture of uniforms. Even with thousands of academic studies, each adding a new interpretation, there remains still unexplored territory. This study's objective is to expand upon and connect these previous interpretations to produce another tier in understanding a specific chapter of the war. The question posed centers on not the Confederate strengths but the Federal weaknesses. Research shows how the failure and limitations of Union strategy, policy, and the inability to logistically sustain massive offensives opened the way for the Confederacy to capitalize on, and turn the tide of the war. Furthermore, how did the Confederate strategies both militarily and politically have the greatest success and influence on the Kentucky and Maryland Campaigns and the overall outcome of the war? ; Master of Arts in Military History ; Capstone Autumn 1862 The High Tide of the Confederacy Colin E. Zimmerman A paper submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Arts in Military History Norwich University MH562 Capstone Paper Dr. Wesley Moody 23-August-2020. 2 Thesis: The American Civil War is one of the defining events in American history. Abundant studies cover every aspect of the conflict, from strategic analysis to the material culture of uniforms. Even with thousands of academic studies, each adding a new interpretation, there remains still unexplored territory. This study's objective is to expand upon and connect these previous interpretations to produce another tier in understanding a specific chapter of the war. The question posed centers on not the Confederate strengths but the Federal weaknesses. Research shows how the failure and limitations of Union strategy, policy, and the inability to logistically sustain massive offensives opened the way for the Confederacy to capitalize on, and turn the tide of the war. Furthermore, how did the Confederate strategies both militarily and politically have the greatest success and influence on the Kentucky and Maryland Campaigns and the overall outcome of the war? It will be necessary to answer this question through a multilayered approach. Instead of viewing the Kentucky and Maryland campaigns on the tactical level, which has already consumed most of the historiography on the topic, this study will instead find an explanation to this question through political, logistical, organizational, leadership personalities, and economic components and how they dictated the overall strategic picture and framework. When synthesizing all these components together, one potential answer generates: the grand Confederate offensive in the autumn of 1862, a direct result of botched Federal strategic measures and limitations, divided political policies, and the Union's struggling logistical capabilities; indicated the high tide of the Confederacy. Through battlefield victories and seizing the initiative in direct and indirect courses, Confederate leadership allowed the Southern field armies to exploit the Federal weaknesses culminating in the Kentucky and Maryland campaigns. 3 These campaigns offered the Confederacy its only realistic chance of ending the war on political and strategic terms that favored the South. An examination of each specific component and its relation to the Confederate high tide's theory is therefore essential to back this new interpretation. Political Factors of the North, South, and Europe; and its Benefit to the Confederacy in 1862: All wars, especially civil wars, are political in their foundation, influence, and execution. In "On War," Carl von Clausewitz states that "the political object, as the original motive of the War, will be the standard for determining both the aim of the military force and the amount of effort to be made." 1 This axiom applies to events in the autumn of 1862 since political factors dominated the motivation of strategy. The Confederacy's legitimacy resided within its field armies continued existence. Their ability to gain military victories that supported both the strategic and political realms was the essential component that needed to be sustained if the South was to remain independent. The North was in a completely different predicament, as the rival political factions, Republican's and Democrat's, each with its own opinion on the objective goals and the conduct of the war, could not in the early phase of the war come to common ground as to what the specific nature, cause, plan, and purpose of the Civil War was. The North was a nation at war without complete unification of mind, and purpose, which presented a weakness that could ultimately undo its efforts. Complicating matters for President Abraham Lincoln, and his party's agenda, was the fact the Northern Democratic party held just over 45% of the popular vote of free and border states in the 1860 election. 2 In short, the President and his administration existed only in a 1 Carl von Clausewitz, On War, Translated by Colonel J.J. Graham. New York, NY: Barnes & Noble, 2004. 10. 2 James McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988. 506. 4 narrow margin and needed to conduct the war in a way suitable to keep the two very different mindsets exhibited by both the Republicans and Democrats in agreement. The Kentucky and Maryland campaigns occurred while changing Republican ideas on the persecution of the war and mid-term congressional elections, which proved to be a significant juncture in Northern and foreign politics. To be sure, the summer and fall of 1862 were extremely delicate times for Lincoln and the Republicans, and they could not afford any negative setbacks. Lacking any precedent to draw on, the Lincoln Administration delicately approached the rebellion by seeking the destruction of Confederate armies and exempting the Southern population from the burdens of war by respecting the civilians' constitutional rights and property. Historian Mark Grimsley captured the conviction of the policy by pointing out that the Lincoln administration renounced any intention of attacking slavery; and the government's assumption that most white Southerners were lukewarm about secession, and if handled with forbearance, would withdraw their allegiance from the Confederacy once Union armies entered their midst. 3 This policy known as conciliation, therefore, served as the beat to which Union forces marched off to war. Not all Northern generals and radical Republicans embraced this; however, the policy served as the first step in an evolutionary process that would eventually culminate in "hard-war." The effects of conciliation created favorable conditions for the Confederacy from which they were able to exploit the "limited war" shortcomings of the Union and surge forward into the fall offensive and their high tide. These shortcomings manifest in several different forms: leadership, strategic limitation, and foreign and domestic political pressure. Unfortunately for the 3 Mark Grimsley, The Hard Hand of War: Union Military Policy toward Southern Civilians, 1861-1865. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. 3. 5 Union, the combination of these factors exposed themselves in a negative light nearly all simultaneously, creating a perfect opportunity for the Confederates to take advantage of the drawbacks and pursue victory. Fueling the fire was the Lincoln Administration's policy regarding the appointment of military governors in captured territory. The issue arose when these cities, such as Nashville, were turned into massive supply centers for Union armies, resulting in intense rivalries between city and country, neighboring communities, and whites and blacks as they competed for jobs and dominance. 4 Henry Halleck, George McClellan, Don Carlos Buell, the key leaders of the Federal armies in 1862, generated the most immediate consequences stemming from the shortcomings of conciliation from as these three adherents to firm Democratic principles and military strategy are most responsible for creating the opportunity for a Confederate offensive. Generals Halleck, McClellan, and Buell are often portrayed by historians as lacking the "killer instinct," especially when compared to Ulysses S. Grant, William T. Sherman, and Phil Sheridan. However, a more accurate analysis finds them as men who followed the conciliation policy almost to the letter for political, personal, or logistical reasons. Halleck himself wrote the Elements of Military Art and Science, where he harped on the capture of strategic points, incurring the least number of casualties and damage as possible as the primary strategy of winning a war. Ironically, Halleck, the most influential Union general in 1862, believed that warfare was unjustifiable in most cases and should only be conducted with the utmost caution. 5 As General in Chief, Halleck had a significant influence on the conduct of operations of the Union forces. Each of these three 4 Grimsley, The Hard Hand of War, 35-36; Scott Nelson and Carol Sheriff, A People of War: Civilians and Soldiers in America's Civil War, New York: Oxford University Press, 2007. 88. The reference to negative leadership refers to the actions of Nathaniel Lyon and Francis Blair; who introduced "harsh" measures in 1861 prematurely which led to a brutal guerilla war and other political ramifications. 5 Henry Wagner Halleck, Elements of Military Art and Science: Course of Instruction in Strategy, Fortification, Tactics of Battle, Embracing the Duties of Staff, Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery, and Engineers, Adapted to the Use of Volunteers and Militia, Third Edition, New York: D. Appleton & Company, 1862. 7-9. 6 commanders prescribed to similar variants of Halleck's theory, whose universal core value of caution above all else acted as the catalyst to create the conditions for the Confederacy to crest in the fall of 1862. While the reigns of military success were in McClellan's and Buell's hands during the Maryland and Kentucky campaigns; Halleck made two major errors in 1862 that are directly responsible for igniting the Confederate offensives. The first was his overabundance of caution in taking Corinth, allowing the Confederates to slip away and then failing to retain the initiative by pushing to Vicksburg while simultaneously failing to capture Chattanooga. The second major failure was his inability to harness his granted power and force McClellan to speedily and effectively send his army to the aid of John Pope, eliminating any opportunity for a combined assault on Lee's smaller army. 6 The Democratic principles these generals prescribed to differed in many respects from Lincoln and the Republican agenda on the idea of the war. Each strongly believed in the preservation of the Union yet favored winning the war by the least drastic measures, the least number of casualties, and on a platform acceptable to their Democratic party beliefs. 7 For instance, McClellan wrote Buell, upon the latter's elevation to command of the Army of the Ohio: "bear in mind that we are fighting only to preserve the integrity of the Union and to uphold the power of General Government….be careful so to treat the unarmed inhabitants as to contract, not widen, the breach existing between us & the rebels." 8 Additionally, Generals Pope, Grant, and Rosecrans, who likely weren't as politically polarized as the former three, contributed to the growing political dissension in 1862 in their own right. Therefore, by their actions, federal military leadership did more to subvert the Union military from ending the war quickly and 6 Russel F. Weigley, A Great Civil War: A Military and Political History, 1861-1865, Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2000. 135-136. It is arguable whether or not the Army of the Potomac could have arrived in its entirety rapidly enough to join with Pope. However, personal and in-house political agendas did not move the efficiency along any faster. 7 Weigley, A Great Civil War, xix-xxi. 8 Grimsley, 64. 7 dividing political tension based on faction theology more than any other public figures in 1862. One of the more notable incidents that fit into the framework of subversion was Grant's debacle at Shiloh, which brought strong opposition from anti-war Democrats, causing cautious leaders such as Halleck and McClellan to tighten their grip and fear repeat attacks. Most detrimental in this respect was the administration's and Halleck's decision to temporarily bench Grant during the Corinth episode, then subsequently leaving him in a position where he could not act with his usual aggressiveness against Stirling Price and Earl Van Dorn. Before his removal as General in Chief, George McClellan wrote Halleck then in charge of western forces, "The future success of our cause demands that proceedings such as Grant's should at once be checked. Generals must observe discipline as well as private soldiers. Do not hesitate to arrest him at once if the good of service requires it, & place CF Smith in command." 9 Grant's "recklessness" at Shiloh created quite the stir on the home front, which as a result, political rivals of the Lincoln Administration, sought to break down Grant as a way to spread discontent and fit the anti-war platform. They harped on the high number of casualties, the surprise of the Confederate attack, and the black eye to the seemingly unstoppable Union war machine. The backlash reached Washington, prompting a response from the Administration. In a telegram to Halleck, Secretary of War Stanton wrote, "The President desires to know why you have made no official report to this department respecting the late battles of Pittsburg landing. And whether any neglect or misconduct of General Grant or any other officer contributed to the sad casualties that befell our forces on Sunday." 10 The battle of Shiloh became the first political debacle that militarily opened the door for the Confederacy to take the offensive in the fall of 1862. 9 Nancy Scott Anderson and Dwight Anderson, The Generals: Ulysses. S. Grant and Robert E. Lee, Avenel: New Jersey, 1987. 230. 10 Anderson, The Generals, 241. 8 The most immediate politically charged consequence materialized in Halleck's handling of the advance on Corinth, which exemplified his standard cautiousness with added paranoia of avoiding another repeat of Shiloh. 11 The delicate politically charged caution continued even after the successful capture of Corinth in Halleck's decision to send Buell, over Pope or Grant to seize Chattanooga. Halleck's snail-like cautious advance on Corinth, and the decision to send Buell to Chattanooga, allowed the disorganized Confederate army to withdraw from Corinth, establish a new commander in the form of Braxton Bragg, who in turn brought reorganization, discipline, and professionalization to the Army of Mississippi; which proved to be the genesis of Bragg and Smith having the ability to advance into Tennessee and Kentucky. 12 Military shortcomings turned political disasters in the Eastern Theater during the summer of 1862, soon overshadowed Shiloh, and added dramatic momentum and opportunity to the rise of the Confederate high tide in the war's primary theater. McClellan and his Army of the Potomac, having suffered political harassment in late 1861 into the spring of 1862, began their downward political spiral with the Army of the Potomac's loss of initiative and strategic defeat during the Seven Days Battles on the Peninsula. The setbacks along the James River coupled with the black eye at Shiloh, and the defeat of Federal forces in the Shenandoah Valley in the spring of 1862 had devastating political effects, which left the North and European powers believing that all hope for the Union resided with McClellan and his Army of the Potomac. The proximity of the Union and Confederate capitals made the Eastern theater a hot spot for journalists and policymakers on both sides, who saw the region as the deciding factor in the Civil War's outcome. This army's setback at the gates of Richmond did more to influence how events 11 Larry J. Daniel, Days of Glory: The Army of the Cumberland, 1861-1865, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2006. 85. 12 Thomas Lawrence Connelly, Army of the Heartland: The Army of Tennessee, 1861-1862, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2001. 188-194. 9 unfolded in the east in 1862 in both the strategic and political sense, both foreign and domestic. 13 The shortcomings on the Peninsula stymied the Union's hope to quickly end the war while making the voices of "Peace Democrats" louder and the political situation even more delicate. As if the Lincoln Administration did not already have enough burdens, both England and France, whose neutrality was necessary for the Union war effort, began to openly question the North's ability to subdue the South and end the rebellion. 14 Stonewall Jackson's brilliant campaign in the Valley, coupled with the Army of Northern Virginia's ferocious performance on the Peninsula elevated Southern patriotism, and simultaneously dampened Northern morale, convincing many on both sides that Southern victory was achievable. 15 Colonel Charles Marshall, Lee's Assistant Adjutant General believed that Robert E. Lee's emergence onto the scene was the greatest benefit to the Southern cause. He equated Lee's leadership on the Peninsula to that of a color bearer bravely advancing his banner towards the enemy. On political matters Marshall correctly believed that the Northern people were impatient for a speedy victory and that the Federal Government expressed this sentiment in its policy on conducting the war. However, this policy was forcefully and forever altered with the aggressive Lee's emergence onto the scene, whose plan called for carrying on the war indefinitely until the Confederacy achieved victory. Marshall outlined this plan as designed to, "frustrate the enemy's designs; to break up campaigns undertaken with vast expense and with confident assurance of success; to impress upon the minds of Northern people the conviction that they must prepare for a protracted struggle, great sacrifices of life and treasure, with the possibility that all might at last be of no 13 Stephen W. Sears, To the Gates of Richmond: The Peninsula Campaign, New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992. 355. 14 McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom, 554-555. 15 Peter Cozzens, Shenandoah 1862: Stonewall Jackson's Valley Campaign, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2008. 507-508. 10 avail; and to accomplish this at the smallest cost to the Confederacy." 16 This leadership change at such a critical moment proved to be the dawn of turning Confederate fortunes in the east. Public opinion and political reactions to the Union failure on the Peninsula were mixed; however, strong opposition towards McClellan emerged and created discord among the rival Democrats and Republicans, each of whom found outlets to accuse the other of the responsibility of the campaign's failure. 17 Amid this political turmoil, Lincoln, in an effort to offset the discord introduced Major General John Pope, who only managed to escalate political dissension to a fever pitch with his disastrous Northern Virginia campaign. 18 In the Western Theater, the emergence of Braxton Bragg also came at a critical juncture in juxtaposition with the events occurring in the east. Bragg took command of the Army of Mississippi at one of its darkest hours, and through exemplary organizational skills, reshaped the Army of Mississippi into a professional, disciplined force capable of delivering a lethal blow. With such a force, Bragg was able to look to more risky opportunities that would offset the Union strategic gains in the west and regain Tennessee and perhaps set the stage for Kentucky.19 Private Sam Watkins of the 1st Tennessee recorded the positive change in morale from the melancholy atmosphere at Corinth to when new lifeblood in the army emerged. "We were in an ecstasy akin to heaven. We were happy; the troops were jubilant; our manhood blood pulsated more warmly; our patriotism was awakened; our pride was renewed and stood ready for any emergency; we felt that one Southern man could whip twenty Yankees. All was lovely and 16 Charles Marshall, Lees Aide-De-Camp: Being the Papers of Colonel Charles Marshall Sometime Aide-De-Camp, Military Secretary, and Assistant Adjutant General on the Staff of Robert E. Lee, 1862-1865, Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, and Frederick Maurice, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000. 74. 17 Sears, To the Gates of Richmond, 346-347. 18 John J. Hennessy, Return to Bull Run: The Battle and Campaign of Second Manassas. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1999. 468-472. 19 Earl J. Hess, Banners to the Breeze: the Kentucky Campaign, Corinth, and Stones River, Lincoln, Neb.: University of Nebraska Press, 2010. 19-22. 11 the goose hung high." 20 Although the Confederates had suffered initial setbacks early in 1862, the advantages afforded by conciliation, cautious Federal leadership, and the emergence of Lee and Bragg allowed for a reversal of fortunes. In 1862 Southern patriotism was running high; the idea of independence and the Confederate soldier's superiority was at its wartime peak. 21 Lee's decision to invade Maryland was political in nature. Maryland Campaign historians, Joseph Harsh, Scot Hartwig, Stephen Sears, James Murfin, and Ezra Carman while differing on strategic matters, all agree that Lee's primary purpose was to secure a decisive victory which would gain the South the political victory; either in the form of Northern domestic politics or international recognition and or intervention. The application of political pressure to Lee's offensive outweighs all the deficiencies faced by his army in the logistical realm, and further illustrated his grasp on the delicacy of Northern political division. Clearly, he understood this division and had faith that his smaller, ill-supplied force had a chance to deliver a blow that would fracture the Northern populace and produce an outcome that favored the South. General Lee suggested his understanding of such matters in a letter to President Jefferson Davis while in Dranesville on September 3. "The present seems to be the most propitious time since the commencement of the war for the Confederate Army to enter Maryland.….if it is ever desired to give material aid to Maryland and afford her and opportunity of throwing off the oppression to which she is now subject, this would seem the most favorable." 22 The domestic and foreign political objectives acting as primary motives for the "invasion," were in that instant equal to the strategic goals which accompanied them when 20 Samuel R. Watkins, Company Aytch or A Side Show of the Big Show: A Memoir of the Civil War. Edited by Ruth Hill Fulton McAllister. Nashville, TN: Turner, 2011. 45. 21 Joseph T. Glatthaar, General Lee's Army: From Victory to Collapse, New York: Free Press, 2008. 207; James Longstreet, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, Edited by Ned Bradford. New York: The Fairfax Press, 1979. 263. 22 United States War Department, The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Vol. 19. Washington: Govt. Print. Off., 1880. 590. 12 defining the military value of the campaign; this is a unique feature to the Maryland Campaign and its condition for victory, while only a secondary task in Kentucky. In contrast historian Edwin Coddington paints a different picture for Lee's purposes in the Pennsylvania Campaign of 1863. Coddington outlined that Lee, in this part of the war, contended with the new Federal doctrine of "hard war" and emancipation, eliminating the decisive battle matched with the political advantage that existed in 1862. Therefore, Lee's only real option was to defeat the Army of the Potomac in detail, earning a strategic victory rather than a political one. 23 Such a task required adequate logistics, and a complete and total battlefield victory, two factors that eluded the Confederacy during the war. Such victory conditions presented to Lee in 1862 were unique and would never materialize again in any substantial form. Political division in the North was at fever pitch in the late summer of 1862; evidence of the discord's depth is apparent in everything from personal letters through Northern news outlets. Robert E. Lee, an avid reader of Northern papers, understood this notion and sought to exploit it. Domestically, Northern Democrats maintained a loud voice in critical regions and states, which only grew more robust and more resilient with each military shortcoming and failure. August and early September saw a heightened level of panic and discouragement in the North, with Pope's defeat and Lee's invasion of Maryland, while at the same time Kirby Smith's Confederate Army of Kentucky demonstrated against Cincinnati. Pennsylvania was understandably the most unnerved due to its proximity to Maryland and vital war infrastructure, and its Republican governor Andrew Curtin's demand for 80,000 troops to defend his state embodied it. Additionally, the mayors of the influential northern cities of Harrisburg, Philadelphia, and 23 Edwin B. Coddington, The Gettysburg Campaign: A Study in Command, New York: Simon and Schuster. 1968. 6-7. 13 Baltimore were alarmed, fearing their respective city was the target of Lee's advancing legions.24 In Cincinnati, the situation turned somewhat drastic. After destroying the Union forces at Richmond, Kentucky on August 30, Kirby Smith as a result had a clear road to the Ohio River. Understandably Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio all worried what Smith's next move would be while they scrambled to organize bodies of troops. General Lew Wallace arrived in Cincinnati, declared martial law and quickly set about organizing a defense. 25 With panic to the extremity of declaring martial law, the Northern population began to question their ability to win the war openly. Prominent figures such as George Templeton Strong, Samuel Galloway, Reverend Robert Laird Collier, and Senator Garrett Davis, spoke not only for themselves but also for the majority of the people by openly challenging President Lincoln and his administration on their ability to conduct the war. The accusations included Lincoln's unfitness for the Presidency, the constant change of military leadership in the east, which showed instability and was severely hurting morale in the North. Demands also arose that there be a complete reorganization of the Administration. 26 The Lincoln Administration's threat of a draft, unless an additional 300,000 volunteers could be raised created further tension. The idea of a draft disgusted many Northerners; however, with "patriotic" spirit enticed by bounties, nine-month service, and the threat of draft, the ranks of new regiments began to fill in late summer of 1862, only hitting forty-five percent of the intended quota. 27 The Union soldiers themselves cast a gloomy mood over the situation and expressed their views with varying levels of disgust. Lieutenant Elisha Hunt Rhodes of the 2nd 24 David H. Donald, Lincoln, New York, NY: Touchstone, 1996. 373. 25 Vernon L. Volpe, "Dispute Every Inch of Ground": Major General Lew Wallace Commands Cincinnati, September 1862." Indiana Magazine of History 85, no. 2 (1989): 139. 26 Donald, Lincoln, 373. 27 McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom, 492. 14 Rhode Island expressed in his diary that: "I fear we are no nearer the end of the war than we were when we first landed at Fortress Monroe five months ago." 28 Captain Francis Donaldson of the 118th Pennsylvania captured the mood in Washington: "We are constant witness of the sad plight of the Army of the Potomac, as thousands of Genl. Pope's troops in great demoralization are ever passing the Fort in retreat to Washington. The poor old Army of the Potomac, how I pity it." 29 Captain Henry Pearson of the 6th New Hampshire also expressed his views in the aftermath of Second Manassas: "You need not be surprised if success falls to the rebels with astonishing rapidity." 30 Brigadier General Marsena Patrick's opinion bordered on insurrection: "There is a general feeling that the Southern Confederacy will be recognized & that they deserve recognition." 31 Lieutenant Charles Seton Fleming of the 2nd Florida Infantry, in a letter home to his mother describing the aftermath of the Second Manassas campaign, echoed Patrick's views when he wrote: "Our victory is complete, even the Yankee prisoners acknowledge it." 32 Lieutenant Colonel Henry Hubbell of the 3rd New York wrote in August 1862: "I am not sure that it would not be a good thing to have the rebels get possession of Washington however, as it might waken up the north to the fact that we are having a war in earnest, and not merely playing soldier…. We have got men & means enough in the north to put an end to this war in 90 days, if they would only go at it in earnest and let politics & the nigger alone." 33 28 Elisha Hunt Rhodes, All for the Union: A History of the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteer Infantry in the War of the Great Rebellion. Edited by Robert Hunt Rhodes. Lincoln, RI: A. Mowbray, 1985. 69. 29 Francis Adams Donaldson, Inside the Army of the Potomac: The Civil War Experience of Captain Francis Adams Donaldson. Edited by J. Gregory Acken. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 1998. 104. 30 D. Scott Hartwig, To Antietam Creek: the Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2019. 134-135. 31 Ibid., 134-135. 32 Francis P. Fleming, A Memoir of Captain C. Seton Fleming: of the Second Florida Infantry, C.S.A., Reprint 1985: Jacksonville: Times-Union Publishing House, 1884. 66. 33 Simon P. Newman, "A Democrat in Lincoln's Army: The Civil War Letters of Henry P. Hubbell." The Princeton University Library Chronicle 50, no. 2 (1989): 155-68. 157. 15 Hubbell eluded to the growing discord of racial issues that many Democrats saw as an unnecessary and politically charged motive to a war that was supposed to be strictly for preserving the Union. Nevertheless, this issue began to transform the cause of the war in the summer of 1862, adding only more weight to a very delicate political situation. Hubbell's feelings weren't isolated; instead, the sense that the war was taking on a new front to end slavery infuriated many Northerners. Hubbell's views on racial matters and slavery were not limited to himself, in fact, the stiffest opposition to war that had anything to do with freeing slaves came from the Midwest states; where racism was an epidemic culturally, especially in the Army of the Ohio. The talk of national emancipation led hundreds of men to desert and, in some cases, join the Confederacy. 34 Sentiments similar to these echoed across the Union armies and, undoubtedly, were shared by family and friends on the home front. Some individuals turned bitter, and perhaps extreme, which reflected political, ideological, and sectional differences in the North, which under the pressure of a seemingly collapsing system reared its ugly head. The term "invasion" has been used several times thus far, especially by the Union's most publicized general, George McClellan. This term and others related to it divided the minds of many of those who had significant power to dictate the war. Abraham Lincoln, at no point, recognized the Confederacy as a legitimate entity. He always maintained that the Southern States were in rebellion and needed to be brought back into the Union. Interestingly, his senior generals in 1862, mostly Democrats, saw the Confederate offensives as invasions, insinuating their conscious or subconscious recognition that Confederate armies were "foreign invaders" intent on doing harm, which helped fuel the panic, frustration, and seemingly lost Union cause ideology. 35 34 Daniel, Days of Glory, 101. 35 Andrew Pooley, "Shoo-ing the Geese: Lincoln and the Army of the Potomac, 1862-1863." Australian Journal of American Studies 21, no.2 (2002): 86-100. 86-87. 16 Jefferson Davis, the Confederate cabinet, Robert E. Lee, Braxton Bragg, and all the other high-ranking Confederate officers comprehended the growing Northern political disunion. This is evident in the decision to approve a Confederate offensive and the string of strategic goals associated with it. The Army of Northern Virginia, for example, fulfilled its duty of defeating the Federals time and again, completely reversing the tide of the war in the east. As Robert E. Lee sat at his headquarters in the aftermath of Chantilly, it had become abundantly clear that he now possessed the opportunity to strike the decisive blow against whatever Union army would oppose him in Maryland or Pennsylvania, which would likely result in some sort of peace talks. 36 Lieutenant Colonel Edward Porter Alexander Chief of Ordnance in the Army of Northern Virginia saw the picture as clear as Lee. Referring to the army, we wrote: "His [Lee's] army had, that magnificent morale which made them equal to twice their numbers, & which they never lost even to the surrender at Appomattox. And his confidence in them, & theirs in him, were so equal that no man can yet say which was greatest. And no old soldier need ask a prouder record than is implied in that fact. By going into Maryland Gen. Lee could at least subsist his army for a while upon the enemy, & he doubtless hoped, too, for a chance to force the Federal army to come out & fight him under favorable conditions." 37 Confederate officer William Allan, reverberated Alexander's sentiments when he wrote of the Army of Northern Virginia: "its spirit at this time was high. A series of brilliant successes had given it unbounded confidence in itself and its leaders, and the ragged dirty soldiers hailed with joy the advance across the Potomac." 38 The comparison of the Federal and Confederate views as indicated from primary sources, on 36 Hartwig, To Antietam Creek, 52-53. 37 Edward Porter Alexander, Fighting for the Confederacy: The Personal Recollections of General Edward Porter Alexander. Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, United States: The University of North Carolina Press, 2000. 139. 38 William Allan, The Army of Northern Virginia in 1862, Reprint: Middletown: DE, 2020. 273. 17 leadership and the progress of the war at the beginning of the Maryland Campaign were clearly in favor of the South. The leadership of Don Carlos Buell is a prime example of political dissatisfaction, both on the home front and in the army. While McClellan was unpopular with the Administration, he still held favor with most of his officers, and certainly the rank and file of the army and the nation. Buell, however, faced contention on three similar fronts – The Indiana bloc, the general and field officers of the First Division, and the supporters of Alexander McCook, one of his corps commanders. Much of the disgust with Buell occurred during the Kentucky Campaign. This break in unified efforts favored the Confederate cause, particularly in swaying popular opinion in Kentucky. Republican Indiana newspapers ripped into Buell's leadership, declaring that he was completely mishandling the pursuit of two Confederate armies that were ripping up Kentucky and potentially heading towards Indiana, Ohio, or Illinois. Some newspapers called for his immediate dismissal, and a few even demanded he be shot. 39 When comparing Lee and his army to Buell and his, there formulates a fascinating dissection of the polar extremes in popular and political opinion. Lee and his men were on the top of their game, while Buell's forces were at a low ebb. Using these two examples as the basis of measurement, it becomes apparent that overall, the Confederate forces enjoyed a much higher sense of public support and favorability then their Union counterparts did at that particular moment in the war. Scholars have hotly debated the prospect of European powers, particularly England and France intervening and mediating an end to the conflict. The idea of such a prospect was undoubtedly the primary goal for the Confederate strategy in the autumn of 1862. It is essential to view the idea of European intervention in the simplest of forms. The Southern strategy partly 39 Daniel, 128-129. 18 hinged on it, as can be observed via strategic decisions and public opinion, the North, however, feared the prospect. Intervention and mediation on any level would, in the end, be more beneficial to the South, and the Lincoln Administration would appear as incapable; in short, it would be a disaster for the North and Republicans. 40 The onset of a "cotton famine" and the scandal of the Trent affair occurred amid all the politically charged events in 1862, resulting in the British sending an additional 11,000 men to Canada and forcing Lincoln to tread lightly in foreign political matters. 41 Historian Max Beloff believed that the possibility of British intervention was extremely likely in 1862, mainly due to the North's refusal to make anti-slavery sentiments the basis of their cause, instead still focusing on the preservation of the Union, which only supported the pro-Southern faction in Parliament. 42 An examination of Southern newspapers and other editorials, shows public opinion in the South at the beginning of the war was universal in the belief that Great Britain would be forced, through the power of cotton, to intervene either by raising the blockade or by recognizing the Confederate States as an independent nation or perhaps both. 43 Regardless of the likelihood of actual intervention or recognition, the idea of it greatly influenced Confederate leaders, particularly Lee, who notated such objective goals in his correspondence with Davis. Davis agreed outlining his desires in a communication to Lee on September 7. He reminded Lee that the Confederacy was waging war solely for self-defense. Through the eight points he outlined as the guiding principles for the field armies to abide by, Davis continually revolved his doctrine around political objectives whose chief purpose were to achieve peace with the United States. If the South maintained a self- 40 McPherson, 444. 41 Nelson, A People at War, 166. 42 Max Beloff, "Historical Revision No. CXVIII: Great Britain and the American Civil War." History, New Series, 37, no. 129, (1952): 40-48. 42. 43 Schuyler Dean Hoslett, "The Richmond Daily Press on British Intervention in the Civil War: A Brief Summary." The William and Mary Quarterly 20, no. 1 (1940): 79-83. 80. 19 defense posture, with the objective of peace through battlefield victory; then the likelihood of positive European intervention on their behalf had a much higher probability, which in turn could possibly bring a speedy end to the war with terms that favored the Confederacy. 44 Logistical Concerns and Organizational Components: While the South always lagged behind the North in terms of finance, economy, manufacturing, manpower, and many other logistical concerns, the disparity was narrower in 1862 than in the coming years. As a point of contention, several trends and circumstances in the Union war effort benefited the South more than it aided the Union on the grand stage. Concerning logistics, Clausewitz's maxim states: "The dependence on the base increases in intensity and extent with the size of the Army, which is easy to understand. An Army is like a tree. From the ground out of which it grows it draws it's nourishment; if it is small it can easily be transplanted, but this becomes more difficult as it increases in size….When therefore, we talk of the influence of the base on the operations of an Army, the dimensions of the Army must always serve as the scale by which to measure the magnitude of that influence." 45 This axiom is precisely the predicament of the Northern war effort in the first two years of the war. The logistical portion of this study will examine the condition and availability of uniforms and equipment, quality of weaponry then in circulation, training and experience of soldiers, and finally the ability of each government to produce and supply its troops effectively. A logistical understanding is crucial for understanding the obstacles and conditions faced by the armies and how it dictated their effectiveness on campaign and immediate tactical ability on the battlefield in 1862. The South, as previously stated from the very beginning of the war, was behind its 44 OR, vol 19, 1: 598-599. 45 Clausewitz, On War, 353-354. 20 opponent in logistical matters; however, the North in 1862 was not at the climax in its ability of production and supply, and therefore lacked significantly in certain areas. However, it is essential to note that the limitations of the Federal logistical system by the fall of 1862 were only a few months shy of efficiently supplying the vast number of troops in the field. The first evidence of a marked change in the Union's logistical ability emerged in the Chancellorsville Campaign's genesis, after the winter of 1862-63. 46 Accepting the notion that the Confederate armies were in rough shape logistically; it is important to note that the primary leadership in the field was acutely aware of the shortages. However, the unfolding opportunity demanded a military strike that outweighed logistical concerns. Therefore, an examination into the Federal system's shortcomings is necessary to show the benefits it offered toward the Confederacy. The United States Army in the Antebellum period contained roughly 15,000 men of all arms. Compared with an army of 600,000 men in 1862, it is understandable that there would be significant shortcomings and hurdles to overcome in a nation that, as a rule, did not trust professional armies nor want to foot the bill for one. Nevertheless, the North had a clear advantage when it came to industrialization and manufacturing. Over one million Northerners worked in industrial jobs, ten times more than their Southern counterparts. Furthermore, the North contained roughly 100,000 factories compared to the South's 20,000. 47 Yet, as already pointed out, the prewar army was tiny and supplied with uniforms and equipment solely from the Schuylkill Arsenal in Philadelphia. Additionally, the arsenals producing firearms were limited, with all those existing in the South subsequently seized upon secession, having fewer firearms available to Northern regiments. 48 The North, therefore, would have to raise and equip an army 46 Stephen Sears, Chancellorsville, New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1996. 71-75 47 Matthew S. Muehlbauer and David J. Ulbrich, Ways of War: American Military History from the Colonial Era to the Twenty-First Century. New York: Routledge, 2018. 174-175. 48 Joseph E. Chance, The Second Texas Infantry, From Shiloh to Vicksburg, Austin: Eakin Press, 1984. 16, 24. 21 primarily with outdated weapons and with an industrial system that wasn't geared toward war manufacturing. The North's only saving grace was its economic might. 49 Economically it is crucial to understand that the Union that won the war in 1865, was not the same financial institution nor economy in 1861 and 1862. It was in major part due to the Legal Tender Act of 1862 and the National Currency Act of 1863, that the North was able to pay for the sustainment of the war; yet it took time for these acts to take effect. Therefore, in 1862 financially, the North was undoubtedly at its weakest; many of the state and municipal banks, especially those in border states, had closed their doors, while millions of businesses and private civilians hoarded gold. 50 The Union was only able to field the armies it did in 1861-1862 because of its ability to pay for the conversion and development of machinery needed for equipment, weaponry, and uniforms while relying initially on its prewar militia. Faced with arming a massive army overnight, the United States was forced to arm many of its regiments with outdated firearms, such as the M-1842 Smoothbore musket, and the M-1816 Flintlocks that were converted to percussion, in addition to supplementing itself with foreign weapons, from Britain, Belgium, France, Austria, and others. These weapons except those from Britain, proved to be severely outdated compared to the technology available in the 1860s. The importance of recognizing the sub-standard firearms is their effectiveness on the battlefield and the potentiality of changing the outcome in a crucial moment in a battle. In an era of the rifled musket that was accurate from 250-300 yards, a typical smoothbore musket ranged from 80-100 yards. A significant portion of Federal troops were armed with outdated weapons in the Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns. A focus on any of the principal engagements in that time frame will show that regiments armed 49 McPherson, 442-445. 50 Nelson, 132-133. 22 with such weapons were in certain circumstances ineffective on the immediate tactical plane, and perhaps beneficial to their adversary. The disparity of weapons had begun to improve for the North in 1862; however, the infusion of nearly 300,000 volunteers during the summer of 1862 created a logistical gap once again. Many of the existing regiments in the army still shouldered outdated weapons, and now with legions of new men forming, these troops found themselves supplied with weapons that were unequal to the rigors of Civil War combat. Of this second wave of new recruits, the 12th New Jersey Volunteers serve as an excellent microcosm to examine the Union's logistical deficiencies in the rush to arm new recruits in 1862. Initially, the Jerseymen expected to receive the celebrated Enfield rifle; instead, they ended up with the inferior Austrian Lorenz, which was later exchanged in Washington for the equally outdated 1842 Springfield musket, although they saw this as an improvement over the detested Austrian rifle. 51 While every regiment's experience is different, the new wave and veterans alike in 1862 experienced some level of logistical deficiency that impacted their abelites on campaign or in battle. Aside from weapons, much of the equipment in the Army of the Potomac and the Army of the Ohio at the beginning of the Confederate offensives were at the end of its serviceable life span, due to months of active campaigning, and the inability to properly re-muster the army on a large scale because of the continuity of Confederate aggressiveness, which certainly affected their performance as a cohesive fighting force. Brigadier General Abner Doubleday who commanded a brigade at Second Manassas submitted requisitions to replace equipment and clothing just before the onset of the Maryland Campaign, noted in disgust: "owing to the great number [of other officers] making requisitions, mine were not filled and we were soon obliged to 51 Edward G. Longacre, To Gettysburg and Beyond: The Twelfth New Jersey Volunteer Infantry, II Corps, Army of the Potomac, 1862-1865, Hightstown: Longstreet House, 1988. 24. 23 take the field deficient in everything." 52 This sentiment was backed up by Captain James Wren of the IX Corps, who wrote that the men in his division "looked very bad, being Lousey, Dirty & Almost naked & worn out." 53 The soldiers in the Army of the Ohio were in equally if not worse shape. The vast distances covered by the Western Theater's armies created long supply lines, which fell victim to frequent raids from rebel cavalry. T.J. Wright of the 8th Kentucky Infantry noted in his diary that the Army of the Ohio was: "the hungriest, raggedest, tiredest, dirtiest, lousiest and sleepiest set of men the hardships of this or any other war ever produced." 54 While it is certain that the Confederates were in equally bad situations logistically, they had the benefit victory behind them in the east, and in Bragg's army's case, high morale. Another major struggle for the Federals in 1862 was the ability to get the supplies to its armies. The reason is not one specific aspect, but rather a compilation of bureaucracy, corruption, and lack of precedent to draw off. McClellan's army on the Peninsula had to be supplied from the sea, Pope in command of the Army of Virginia never took the time to ensure his troops had everything they needed, and Buell's army along with the rest of the western forces contended with long supply lines originating in Cairo Illinois, that were frequently raided by Confederate cavalry. The 16th Maine Infantry is a classic example of the suffering that occurred in a system that was outside its capabilities in 1862. The regiment's adjutant and historian Abner Small wrote: "How those men suffered! Hunger, daily felt, was nothing compared with it. Men of education, of refinement, and wealth, who willingly and cheerfully gave up home, with all its love and comfort, for country, made to feel degraded for want of clothing!" Small then describes 52 Hartwig, 137. 53 Ibid., 137. 54 Kenneth W. Noe, Perryville: This Grand Havoc of Battle. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2011. 89. 24 the horrendous conditions: "…without shelter, without overcoats, shoeless, hatless, and hundreds without blankets; and through all that long, sad, and weary tramp, we were jeered at, insulted, and called the "Blanket Brigade!" 55 While examples like this are on the extreme, the narrative fits when assessing the entire logistical picture of the Army of the Potomac in September 1862. The term logistics also dovetails into organizational tables. Aside from sharing similar shortcomings in the area of supply and outdated weaponry, Lee's Army of Northern Virginia was by far the superior force in leadership, experience, and organization when compared with McClellan's force. By September 2, 1862, nearly 61 percent of Lee's infantry had fought in three or more major battles, and 81 percent fought in two or more. All of his 184 infantry regiments were veterans of at least one battle. Not only were Lee's regiments superior in this regard, but his brigade commanders were highly efficient as well. Twenty-seven of Lee's forty brigades were veterans of two or more major battles, while the remaining thirteen had fought in either the Seven Days or Second Manassas. On the divisional level, the highest official level of organization at that point for the A.N.V.; all of the eleven divisions had seen at least one battle. 56 The Union leadership backed this notion up as well. It was widely accepted, and a point still argued amongst historians, that the Southern fighting man was superior. This mythology has far back as the American Revolution corroboration has its roots in early Confederate victories, particularly at First and Second Manassas, the Shenandoah Valley, and the Seven Days battles. These victories generated an aura of invincibility around the Army of Northern Virginia that transcended into the minds of the Federal troops. 57 In fact Lee, true to form was in the first days of September 1862, the living epithet of Baron De Jomini's maxims, "the general should do 55 Abner Ralph Small, The Sixteenth Maine Regiment in the War of the Rebellion, 1861-1865. London: Forgotten Books, 2015. 38. 56 Joseph L. Harsh, Taken at the Flood Robert E. Lee and Confederate Strategy in the Maryland Campaign of 1862. Ashland: The Kent State University Press, 2013. 39-40 57 Pooley, "Shoo-ing the Geese", 88. 25 everything to electrify his own soldiers, and to impart to them the same enthusiasm which he endeavors to repress his adversaries….in general, a cherished cause, and a general who inspires the confidence by previous success, are powerful means of electrifying an army and conducing to victory." 58 In contrast, McClellan's forces reformed into the Army of the Potomac, could not boast anything near the statistics of the Army of Northern Virginia could. September 1862 was the most disorganized and weakest the Army of the Potomac would find itself in the duration of the war. This school of thought canceled out, at least temporarily, any deficiencies faced by Lee's forces. When George B. McClellan rode out of Washington to take command, he found three very different organizations, each with its own command, divisional, brigade, artillery, cavalry, transportation, and quartermaster structures. Additionally, the newly formed regiments, many of whom were only a few weeks old, were rushed to the front and infused into the disorganized mess. Organizing these separate organizations into one effective command would weeks if not months, McClellan would be forced to do it in a matter of days, while in motion, in addition to planning a short-term strategy to deal with Lee. 59 The chaos of the reorganization is apparent in the 5th New York Volunteers' experience. Historian Brian Pohanka related an instance of the 5th as they passed McClellan on the march toward western Maryland: "As they marched, General McClellan reined up beside the troops of Warren's brigade. 'Well, and how is the Old Fifth this evening?' he asked. 'First rate, General, but we'd be better off if we weren't living so much on supposition." 60 Even though he had the bigger force, the disorganization and confusion associated with the rapidity of the Maryland Campaign denied the general his army's full might 58 Baron De Jomini, The Art of War, Translated by Capt. G.H. Mendell, and Lieut. W.P. Craighill, Radford: Wilder Publications, 2008. 30-31. 59 Hartwig, 133-136. 60 Brian C. Pohanka, Vortex of Hell: History of the 5th New York Volunteer Infantry. Lynchburg, VA: Schroeder Publications, 2012. 369. 26 on the battlefield. In different circumstances these obstacles may have been overcome had McClellan had time to prepare. Robert E. Lee sensed his enemy's weakness and used it as part of his foundation to seek permission from President Davis to invade Maryland. "The two grand armies of the United States that have been operating in Virginia, though now united, are much weakened and demoralized. Their new levies, of which I understand 60,000 men have already been posted in Washington, are not yet organized, and will take some time to prepare for the field." 61 Lee identified that his logistical situation was terrible, however, he recognized the unfolding opportunity in front of him. "The army is not properly equipped for an invasion of an enemy's territory. It lacks much of the material of war, is feeble in transportation, the animals being much reduced, and the men are poorly provided with clothes, and in thousands of instances are destitute of shoes. Still, we cannot not afford to be idle, and though weaker than our opponents in men and military equipment's, must endeavor to harass if we cannot destroy them. I am aware that the movement is attended with much risk, yet I do not consider success impossible, and shall endeavor to guard it from loss." 62 The amount of stock Lee put into the Federals logistical organization is apparent. In fact, if taken as a whole, his reliance on the overall Federal weakness is one of his only justifications for his ill-supplied and smaller force to go on the offensive. Additionally, these logistical matters, both of his own and the Federal weakness, coincide directly with Lee's desire to deliver a decisive blow to the Federals quickly. There was not a better opportunity to do it and expect fruitful results, then while the Army of Potomac was at its weakest moment, structurally, organizationally, numerically, and logistically. 61 OR, vol 19, 1: 590-591. 62 Ibid., 590-591. 27 Lee's conclusion of the ill-preparedness of the new Union regiments applies not only to the troops in his sector but also to those in the Western Theater. Much like Lee's army within reach of Washington, Kirby Smith's small army in Kentucky created a panic and proved Lee's theory on the reliability of new soldiers. Kirby Smith successfully and thoroughly destroyed an equally sized Federal force of raw recruits at Richmond, Kentucky, on August 30, 1862, eliminating them from the military equation. Historian Kenneth Noe termed the battle of Richmond as "the most lopsided Confederate victory of the war, as Kirby Smith's men inflicted casualties so staggering that entire Union brigades ceased to exist." 63 With Smith's incursion into Kentucky, a vacuum of chaos erupted in the region, in particular, Ohio. The microcosm of Cincinnati infuses both the political and the serious logistical problems faced by the North in 1862. Historian Vernon Volpe pointed out, "Although the influx of [Union] volunteers was inspiring, with it came a shortage of arms, ammunition, and other equipment needed to outfit the troops properly." 64 This example was echoed across the entire Kentucky region in 1862. Although McClellan's army outnumbered Lee with a total of roughly 87,000 men, twenty percent of his infantry were raw, having been in the army just a handful of weeks and had not even come close to mastering the level of proficiency needed in drill and tactics to be effective on a Civil War battlefield. 65 Even though the Federals were able to put fresh regiments into the field, it became an issue of quantity versus quality. The unfortunate story of the 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers is a classic case in point of these raw troops' ineffectiveness. Arriving to the Army of the Potomac just a few days before the battle of Antietam, the men prepared to enter their first engagement on September 19 at Shepherdstown. Their regimental historian 63 Noe, Perryville, 39. 64 Volpe, "Dispute Every Inch of Ground", 146. 65 Hartwig, 139. 28 wrote: "The teachings of the battalion-drill near Sharpsburg on the previous day [September 18] now had practical application." The 118th's Colonel stated in his official report that: "We returned their fire as fast as possible, but soon found that our Enfield rifles were so defective that quite one-fourth of them would not explode the caps." 66 The 118th's story, while extreme is not unique, another raw Federal regiment the 128th Pennsylvania found itself in an even worse circumstance, owing to its lack of training. The 128th Pennsylvania arrived at the army just days before as well and were assigned to the newly organized XII Corps, which itself contained some of the highest proportions of raw troops. During the battle of Antietam, the new regiment found itself in Miller's Cornfield and due lack of basic drill unable to maneuver itself back onto its brigade in the face of onrushing Confederates. Officers and sergeants from experienced neighboring outfits were sent to try and move the bewildered regiment all to no avail. In the end, the 128th was left to its fate and was nearly destroyed, having no effect on the enemy and only weakening their own brigades' position. 67 Stories similar in nature can be found across the Army of the Potomac on every sector of each battlefield during the Maryland Campaign, each in the midst of their own mishaps allowing the Confederates a level of superiority while hindering their supporting elements an opportunity to exploit any gains. Don Carlos Buell's Army of the Ohio experienced similar circumstances with green regiments as its eastern counterpart. In a letter to Kirby Smith, Bragg detailed his understanding that Buell's men were in rough shape and utterly demoralized. These circumstances, Bragg believed, offered the South a greater benefit of success. 68 The raw, ill-trained, ill-equipped, and completely unprepared 105th Ohio, 123rd Illinois, and 21st Wisconsin infantry regiments were 66 Survivors' Association 118th (Corn Exchange) Regt., P.V., History of the Corn Exchange Regiment 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers,62. 67 Stephen W. Sears, Landscape Turned Red. New York: Ticknor & Fields, 1994. 206. 68 United States War Department, The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Vol. 16: Part 2. Correspondence, Washington: Govt. Print. Off., 1880. 754. 29 all glaring examples of this shortcoming. The 123rd Illinois found itself in a similar predicament as the 128th Pennsylvania at Antietam, exposed and on its own, and fell victim to veteran Confederate troops bearing down on them. The 105th Ohio, equally as green, found itself thrown into the breach in the midst of the 123rd Illinois collapse. Private Ayre of the 105th remarked: "…could not form into a proper line and after going through several maneuvers in order to do so we became mixed and confused." In similar fashion to the 123rd Illinois, the 105th Ohio was quickly stampeded by their Confederate attackers. 69 Much like the inferiority of outdated weapons, untrained, raw troops could not perform to a tactically sufficient level to keep par with the rapid pace and constantly changing conditions of a Civil War battlefield. While plenty of experienced units did exist in the Union armies, it is clear the inexperienced ones created more problems, affording the Confederate forces golden opportunities to exploit immediate tactical advantages they likely would not have had, had they been fighting experienced, or even trained troops. On the other side of the coin, the copious amounts of raw units severely hampered any notion gaining a decisive victory or rapidly following up a pursuit. This is evident in the in the results of Antietam and Perryville, both of which were Confederate tactical victories, and the speed at which Lee and Bragg's armies were pursued. The armies' organization is important when looking to understand the advantages and disadvantages and how this affected a particular side's likelihood of victory. The experience level and the amount of subpar weaponry in both the armies of the Potomac and Ohio was only one issue, their organizational structure in both leadership and how its units were grouped confounded their problems and offered the Confederates another edge over their opponent pushing the scale further in favor in the equation of obtaining a victory. As previously stated, the 69 Stuart W. Sanders, Maney's Confederate Brigade at the Battle of Perryville, Charleston: The History Press, 2014. 53-54. 30 Army of the Potomac during the Maryland Campaign was a conglomeration of several different organizations. It contained the II, V, and VI Corps the original Army of the Potomac, the re-designated I and XII Corps, the Army of Virginia, and the newly dubbed IX that had served on the North Carolina coast. Although there were certainly experienced troops and leaders in each of these components, they each spoke a different organizational "language." 70 George McClellan certainly had the most difficult task of any field commander regarding the organization of his army. Not only did he have three different organizations to mold together as a cohesive fighting force, but he also had the additional struggle of doing it on the fly in a military and national emergency. Therefore, although the Army of the Potomac was a potent fighting force, and managed to engage the Confederates, its capabilities in terms of operational effectiveness were severely limited. Buell's circumstances were much more appealing. His Army of the Ohio had remained intact as a cohesive fighting force since its formation; however, he received additional reinforcements from Grant, and a host of new regiments, diluting its effectiveness as an organization. The Army of the Ohio's real organizational issues manifested in the senior leadership's quirks, rivalries, and lack of cohesion. 71 The use of cavalry in both McClellan and Buell's forces paled in comparison to the South. This issue stemmed from the Federal government's inability to recognize the importance of that specific branch early in the conflict. Overwhelmingly, the cavalry found its commands broken apart and scattered across the army, acting in various guard and staff related duties. Those commands retained to perform the primary tasks of nineteenth-century, reconnaissance, screening, and raids were too few and spread out to have any significant impact on the outcome 70 Hartwig, 133-135. 71 Steven E. Woodworth, Nothing but Victory: The Army of the Tennessee, 1861-1865. New York: Vintage, 2005. 216. 31 of the Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns. 72 Although they lacked in cavalry ability the Federals were unquestionably superior in artillery. Union guns, although far superior to that of the South were severely flawed organizationally in 1862. Circling back to the theme of different organizational structures in McClellan's force, the arrangement of this branch varied, causing communication issues, and leadership vacuums. In common with the cavalry, the prominent artillery structure in 1862 in both the Army of the Potomac and Army of the Ohio, lacked a unified system of command; instead, most batteries were the responsibility of brigade commanders or divisional commanders. Therefore, at critical moments batteries could only take orders from infantry commanders and were presented with the difficult task of coordinating mass firing on specific targets. 73 While it may seem trivial, such inefficiency in employment and "bureaucratic red tape" of military organization prevented the cavalry and artillery from performing at its maximum potential which no doubt contributed to the shortcomings of the Union armies in 1862. The Confederate military organization also had its flaws; however, as previously noted, the experience level of Confederate forces as a whole were much higher and able to adapt to a situation more efficiently. Partly this had to do with the smaller size of the forces overall, and the Confederate authorities' choice to disperse recruits and conscripts across seasoned units rather than raise new organizations. The cavalry of J.E.B. Stuart, John Hunt Morgan, and Nathan Bedford Forrest for instance were vastly superior to their Federal counterparts in every respect. These commands were led well, centralized, and overall contained extremely efficient horsemen, which had proven themselves time and again on the battlefield. 74 Confederate artillery was 72 Hartwig, 155-158. 73 Curt Johnson and Richard C. Anderson, Jr., Artillery Hell: The Employment of Artillery at Antietam, College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1995. 53; Daniel, 146, 148-150. 74 Hartwig, 88-90; Hess, Banners to the Breeze, 24. 32 generally inferior in respect to quality of mechanics, yet, the branch retained a slight advantage over its foes in its organization. Lee's artillery was organized on the divisional level, allowing for easier deployment, and concentrated fire, as the Army of Northern Virginia, did not have a corps structure during this time, division commanders held greater authority in placement and employment of artillery. Furthermore, several groups of divisions fell under an unofficial "wing" structure, allowing Jackson and Longstreet to concentrate guns further. 75 Bragg organized his army different than Lee's army. Bragg operated with two wings or corps, broken down into several divisions. His army maintained an organized and effective cavalry force; however, their weakest point was the artillery. Only fifty-six guns accompanied the Army of Mississippi into Kentucky compared to Buell's 147 guns. These Confederate guns like the Federals were assigned to individual brigades, same as its Federal counterpart, eliminating opportunities to converge fire effectively. 76 Understanding the organizational structure of an army allows for a realistic understanding of what that force is capable of; how it moves in the larger scheme of a campaign; and the benefits and challenges of its employment on the tactical level. Assuming the forces involved were all organized in the same fashion, with identical structures is detrimental in interpreting the ebb and flow of battles and campaigns. A clear picture of how a field army operates through an organizational table is, therefore, paramount. Using Lee and McClellan as examples illustrate the nature of this point. In the Maryland Campaign, Lee was able to give more direct orders to independent division commanders, therefore reducing somewhat the natural confusion begot of transferring and disseminating orders through multiple tiers of officers. On the other hand, McClellan had to give orders to "wing" commanders, who then cut the orders to corps 75 Johnson, Artillery Hell, 41-47. 76 Noe, 370-373, 381-382. 33 commanders then down to the divisional level, doubling the amount of personalities the orders had to go through compared to Lee's forces. It is clear from watching the battles of Antietam and Perryville's tactical evolution that the commanding generals' intent was time and again ineffectually carried out due to communication breakdown and misinterpretation of orders on both sides. Having only scratched the surface of the organizational components of only four of the principal armies involved in the fall of 1862, it becomes clear that each differed in how it chose to conduct its internal operations. However, it is equally apparent from this brief examination, that Confederate forces in the fall of 1862 were better organized and tactically more efficient than their Federal counterparts in Maryland and Kentucky, therefore lending an edge to overall Confederate success and perhaps victory. Strategic Considerations: The strategic components are unquestionably the most important when ascertaining why the fall of 1862 was the Confederacy's high tide. Having looked at the political, logistical, and organizational components and internalizing how each affected the grand design of Confederate strategy in 1862, this section will now tie these components together and shed light on how each influenced strategic decision and guided the final results of the campaigns. A clear understanding of what strategy is necessary to further examine this section. Clausewitz defines strategy as: "the employment of the battle as the means towards the attainment of the object of the War." 77 The "attainment of the object" is the crucial cog in accepting the purpose and direction of operations in Maryland and Kentucky. The strategic composition of these campaigns was different in what they sought to obtain as their achievable goal. Lee's objective was political in its foundation; his 77 Clausewitz, 133. 34 campaign didn't revolve around the occupation of land or control of any specific feature; instead, it sought a climactic battle with a decisive battlefield victory in which Lee was willing to risk his army in a desperate gamble. 78 Bragg and Smith's Kentucky incursions were much more multilayered on an operational platform. While some sort of showdown battle was necessary for the west, it was not the immediate goal, only a potentiality; instead, the relief and re-establishment of Tennessee was paramount with a secondary objective of the "liberation" of Kentucky. The second tier of goals included the control of rail and river systems as a means to eliminate the Union's ability to supply its forces and occupy any portion of the Upper or Deep South. The most significant strategic gain for the South in 1862 existed in Tennessee and Kentucky. Proof of this importance is shown through the fact that six of the seven Confederate field armies would make this region their primary objective in the fall of 1862. These six armies included the commands of Generals' Braxton Bragg, Kirby Smith, Earl Van Dorn, Stirling Price, William Loring, and Humphrey Marshall. Confederate control and or occupation of Tennessee and Kentucky offered benefits and a platform for victory that the remaining Confederate states collectively couldn't offer. Having been the first state to fall under Federal control, Tennessee's recapture would be a major morale boost for the Confederacy nationally and particularly to the large amount of Tennessee regiments that made up Bragg's army. The most significant benefit, however, resided in Tennessee's industrial capability, as it contained the ability to produce more raw items for the war effort then the rest of the Confederacy combined. 79 Confederate control 78 Harsh, 25; OR, vol 19, 1: 598-599. 79 Connelly. 5-15. The importance of Tennessee to the Confederacy is undeniable. Connelly argues that the region was the largest concentrated area for the production of war materials in the Confederacy. The region by 1864 had produced 22,665 pounds niter. Additionally, the area contained a significant source of lead, and was the chief producer of gunpowder in 1861. Tennessee also contained a vast number of factories that repaired old weapons, manufactured new small arms, cartridges, percussion caps, and other equipment. By the fall of 1861, Nashville plants alone turned out 100,000 percussion caps daily, with some 1,300,000 caps produced weekly. The region boasted on the two major Confederate sources of livestock, the other being 35 would, therefore, help in stabilizing the struggling logistical and economic constraints faced in the South. Additionally, the state's rail system would allow for the re-establishment of a direct connection to North Carolina and Virginia and the ability to ship supplies and material to the Confederate forces in the east. Conversely, the loss of Tennessee would be a major blow to Union morale, as its loss would have undone and nullified the Federal campaigns in 1861 and early 1862. 80 Kentucky also offered significant gains for the South. It was generally believed, particularly by the Confederate government's higher echelons, that the majority of Kentuckians were sympathetic to the Southern cause and would rally to Confederate banners if field armies were able to move into the region and strategically hold it. Logistically Kentucky offered a substantial increase for the South, particularly in animals, forage, and transportation options. Like Tennessee, Kentucky contained major river systems and rail lines that would drastically increase movement for the South and partially cut off the mid-west states from the rest of the Union. Politically, Kentucky, a vital border state under Confederate control, could be crippling to Northern domestic and foreign political views. In theory, this political aspect played on a successful campaign in Maryland, another vital border state. More immediately, Kentucky offered the western Confederate armies an opportunity to turn the war from one of defense to one poising them on the edge of invasion of critical Northern states, Ohio, Illinois, and Indiana. Such a turn in the circumstances would be devastating for the Union, particularly politically. The Illinois town of Cairo on the Mississippi River, in 1862 was serving as the logistical launch point for the Union armies in the west; prolonged Confederate control of Kentucky would likely force the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia. More pork was raised in Tennessee save Missouri than any other state. Agriculturally, Middle Tennessee in 1860 produced an average of more than a million bushels of corn making it a leader amongst its sister states. 80 Connelly, 3-6. 36 the Federals to find an alternative method of supplying the troops in Corinth and other points in the Southern heartland. As long as the Federals controlled these regions, they would continue to pin the Confederacy in the Deep South denying them of access to vital infrastructure, maneuvering room, and favorable victory conditions. Braxton Bragg and Kirby Smith had to go on the offensive if they were to alleviate the situation by the very nature of the circumstances. As Lee's army with Richmond, their backs were on the doorstep of the Deep South, and they had no room to maneuver. Fortunately for the South, the western offensive was born out of an opportune moment of Halleck's caution that was strategically seized upon by Confederate commanders. In the necessity of the moment, launching an offensive like Lee during the Seven Days battles was the only beneficial option and a necessary risk if the war was going to be taken off the doorstep of the Deep South. Robert E. Lee on the other end of things saw himself and his army as the most important entity in the Confederacy at that moment. In his mind, the only scenario for Confederate victory rested in his hands alone. He showed this belief in dispatches and letters throughout the campaign in an effort to orchestrate movements across the Confederacy to complement his objective. In a letter to Jefferson Davis, he noted his desire to see his suggestion on what he felt Loring's command should do in the Kanawha Valley, in an effort to support his operation. 81 Lee did not stop with Loring; however, days prior, he communicated his victory at Manassas and planned offensive to Braxton Bragg and requested that Bragg pass the information along to Kirby Smith for further coordination. It was Lee's desire that these western armies gain similar victories to his at Manassas, that when added together may be enough to secure Southern 81 OR, vol 19, 1: 594. 37 victory.82 Lastly, he demonstrated his understanding of the confused state of Federal forces in Washington and the need to seize the initiative before the opportunity was lost. Like Kentucky, Maryland was a vital border state, not for its potentiality in resources, but rather for its geographic relation to Washington. Any serious Confederate incursion into the state would be life-threatening to the Union, and therefore demanded desperate measures on the part of Northern armies to repel such an advance. 83 Lee's leadership has been often criticized during the Maryland Campaign from historians and even shocked his subordinates, Jackson, and Longstreet. 84 Lee was certainly aggressive and was known for taking risks; however, he was not a foolish man, and never committed his army to a disaster, at least not one he foresaw. Comparing his stratagem throughout the rest of the war, it's probable to conclude that his movements were well thought out, with the least amount of risk generated from the objective demands of the campaign. Even in moments of reaction to McClellan, Lee always retained the initiative in Maryland. In the aftermath of Seconded Manassas and Chantilly, it was the opinion of many in both military and civilian leadership that a final showdown somewhere north of the Potomac River was all that was needed for Confederate victory. 85 If Lee was a poker player, he was taking his hand and going all in, he could only hope the Federals floundered. General Longstreet understood the gravity of the moment when he wrote: "When the Second Bull Run campaign 82 OR, vol 19, 1: 589. 83 Ezra A. Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. I: South Mountain. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. 19-21. Carman was present at the battle of Antietam and dedicated his life to research and study of the Maryland Campaign in the post war years. Carman's work was able to capture not only the historical timeline of events, but offered an emotional aspect not seen in other works. This emotional component while subtle is an important tool in internalizing the mindset of Union soldiers and perhaps the North itself. 84 James Longstreet, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, Edited by Ned Bradford. New York: The Fairfax Press, 1979. 265. Longstreet claims that aside from himself, that General Jackson was also taken back from the boldness of Lee's designs on the Maryland Campaign, while at a meeting in Frederick MD, September 9th. 85 Harsh, 60-63. Multiple historians have agreed on this point. James Murfin considered the battle of Antietam to be the most important battle in American history, and one of the most decisive in world history. Ezra Carman portrays the campaign as requiring desperate action for the North, while Scot Hartwig, Stephen Sears and James McPherson center on the political undertone. 38 closed, we had the most brilliant prospects the Confederates ever had. We then possessed an army which, had it been kept together, the Federals would never have dared attack." 86 Lee's confidence in his army was surely the determining factor in his choice to assume the offensive into Maryland, and no doubt behind his reasoning to push the army as hard as he did in the maneuvering and fighting that took place in Maryland. The General expressed his confidence in the men and the importance of the offensive in General Order No. 102. on September 4: "This army is about to engage in most important operations." He further outlines the necessity of respecting private property, and the desire for his commands to lighten their supply encumbrance to allow them to move quickly and efficiently. 87 When coupling the logistical and organizational shortcomings, the political factors reinforced by his troops' confidence and his in them proved to be the energy from which the Maryland Campaign was executed. The offensives themselves presented each of these commanders a complicated set of obstacles and decisions to overcome while ensuring they offered the best possible benefit to their cause with the least amount of risk towards their army. This is certainly one of the most challenging aspects of being a commander in charge of any offensive-minded campaign. Johnston at Shiloh, Burnside at Fredericksburg, Hooker at Chancellorsville, and Hood in Tennessee all failed to capitalize on this principle. The fact that Lee and Bragg achieved the scale of operational measures they did is a testament to their leadership and ability to seize control and direction of a developing situation. If the argument is to be maintained that the Maryland and Kentucky campaigns provided the South the best chance the South had of winning the war, then proof of this claim must lay within the strategic composition of the campaigns themselves. If taken in this context, then it must be understood that every move Lee, Bragg, and 86 Longstreet, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, 263. 87 OR, vol 16, 2: 592. 39 Smith, along with the supporting roles of Loring, Marshall, Price, and Van Dorn were calculated if not on a grand scale, certainly on an individual level. Unlocking the purpose of the maneuvers, and their relation to strategic success will illustrate the continually changing dynamics and environment of each campaign, and how these generals continually altered their designs to fit the goals of their strategic objectives. The evolving strategic situation in the months leading up to the campaigns created the conditions under which the operations in Maryland and Kentucky were governed. Understanding the Confederate forces' strategic focus for needing to assume the offensive will outline the gravity and weight they placed on the outcome of these fall campaigns. The most measurable strategic potential in 1862 existed in the Western Theater. As already stated, the economic and logistical importance of this region necessitated an aggressive action on behalf of the South if the Confederacy was to survive. The first attempt at recovering control of Tennessee occurred in April with the battle of Shiloh. While tactically a Confederate failure, the aftermath of the fighting created adverse reactions from the Northern press and transposed into Halleck's overall cautious and slow pursuit towards Corinth. Halleck, after taking Corinth, was faced with limited choices on where to move next. Due to political and doctrinal restrictions of conciliation and Halleck's theory on war, the massive Union army was not able logistically to move into the Deep South. The only real move available to the Federal forces in the summer of 1862, was a lateral one east towards Chattanooga. 88 With Bragg at Tupelo and Kirby Smith's small command at Chattanooga, the path of success for an aggressive officer to take Chattanooga, a major supply hub for the South, was wide open. Halleck foiled this opportunity by sending Buell's command to accomplish the task. The slow-moving cautious Buell initially created consternation among 88 Daniel, 86. 40 Confederate leadership, yet once the pace of his progress was realized, the same trepidation turned into an opportunity. 89 Clausewitz described the potential for a reciprocal effect to take place should an army go on the offensive; however, he counterweighs that thought with pointing out that an army in a precarious position with the opportunity to gain a substantial amount should jump on the opportunity if one should be presented. 90 Certainly, Bragg and Smith applied a variation of this maxim into their decision to go on the advance. The term "invasion" is the defining ideology that bound both major theaters of war and other Confederate objectives in the fall of 1862. Clausewitz wrote that even if the complete overthrow of the enemy is impossible, which it was for the Confederacy, then the only other real option of winning a war is to conquer a portion of the enemy territory. In conquering the enemy territory, the invader has the opportunity to weaken the enemy's resources, crippling their ability to sustain an army. By carrying the war in enemy territory, the conditions will further the enemy's expense and ultimately lead to peace negotiations. 91 The term "invasion" generates a delicate question concerning what an invasion actually is, and how it fits into the American context, particularly in the political spectrum in 1862. Baron De Jomoni, whose military maxims were dominant in nineteenth-century America, distinguished what an "invasion" actually is. Breaking down the idea of an offensive, he wrote that: "…an invasion occurs against a great state whose whole or significant portion of territory is attacked. If only a province or moderate line of defense is attacked, then it is an offensive, and if such actions are limited only to a confined operation, then it is termed an initiative." 92 Indeed then, if taken in this context, 89 Connelly, 200-201. 90 Clausewitz, 707. 91 Clausewitz, 706. Neither of the primary Confederate armies had the ability to "conquer" Federal territory. However, the last part in reference to Clausewitz maxim was the adaptation applied by the Confederacy in its strategic goals. 92 Jomini, The Art of War, 54. The difference in the definition in understanding the purpose of the Confederate objective is critical. Many historians point to the Army of Northern Virginia's strategic goals as fitting into the framework of an 41 Confederate efforts militarily were an offensive and an invasion only in the political spectrum. Although the press and even the top military minds used the term invasion quite frequently in the North, there is nothing in the Confederate strategic framework of 1862, that fit the definition of invasion, Lee himself in a letter to Jefferson Davis on September 4, used the term expedition implying that his foray had a specific purpose and would be short. 93 Due to logistics alone, Confederate forces across the board could not sustain the long-term goals of an invasion. However, the Clausewitzian maxim of a "strategical attack" was within reach and achievable according to the conditional logistical framework. Much of the success for the Confederates relied on the superiority of its troops, and the avoidance of exhausting itself with an over achievement of objectives. 94 The window of opportunity was narrow, operationally because of logistics, but more importantly, because of politics. The two most significant benefits afforded to the Southern cause in 1862 were the Congressional fall elections and European superpowers. If Confederate forces could score a major political victory in the east, and both a strategic reversal coupled with a political coup in the west, then perhaps Northern voters would come to resent the war and vote for "Peace Democrats" in November, and more advantageously draw England and France in as mediators or some other influential role, to end the war. It is apparent that the pressure to act decisively if not at least aggressively before November was of paramount importance. While it is debated as to how far the European powers would intercede, what is certain is that the Confederacy banked part of its strategic decisions both politically and militarily on intervention. 95 Just as apparent was the frustration and delicate invasion, yet when looking at that particular army's logistics and Lee's strategic goals only the Jominian maxim of offensive fits the framework. 93 OR, vol 16, 2: 591-592. 94 Clausewitz, 601. 95 McPherson, 534-535. 42 statesmanship which had to be executed on behalf of the Union to convince the English mainly that the war was nothing more than a rebellion that the Republic could put down on its own. 96 However, this did not appear to be the scene in the late summer of 1862 with Union defeats and setbacks continually piling up. Lee retained the initiative by keeping the enemy guessing what his next move and true objective was. According to Henry McClellan, J.E.B. Stuart's adjutant, that as late as September 13, Federal forces maintained the: "utmost uncertainty regarding Lee's movements and intentions." 97 Lee designed his army's movements to draw out the Federals from Washington. By crossing at Leesburg, his army was initially east of the Catoctin Mountains and a direct threat to Washington and Baltimore, it was this crossing point that directly forced the disorganized Army of the Potomac to leave the defenses prematurely, and more importantly to force Lincoln's hand in placing McClellan back in overall command. 98 The key to the Army of Northern Virginia's movements was speed and mobility, thus the reasoning for Lee's series of orders, which included provisions for shoeless Confederates to remain at Winchester, a lightening of supplies, and an insistence that straggling be strictly forbidden. Lee's next major objective after crossing the Potomac River was to move on Frederick. A Confederate presence in a substantial pro-Union area was a direct insult to the North, and would only further press the Army of the Potomac to hurry faster in order to "repel the invasion" and "save the nation"; while most importantly for the Confederates, continually limit the progress of McClellan organizing his army into a capable force on the battlefield. 96 Nelson, 163-168. 97 H.B. McClellan, The Life and Campaigns of Major-General J.E.B. Stuart: Commander of the Cavalry of the Army of Northern Virginia, Edison: The Blue & Grey Press, 1993. 113. 98 Harsh, 98; OR, vol 16, 2: 604-605. Letter from Lee to Davis on September 12 justifying is reasoning for crossing his army east of the mountains. 43 Lee's grand strategy was working so far; his movements northward from Richmond had stripped the Atlantic states of their Union occupiers to concentrate on Lee's Confederate force, while at the same time sending the Federal strategy of war into complete chaos as they scrambled to deal with the offensive. Lee believed that if he launched an unrelenting offensive, the Federals would be compelled to abandon their widely scattered smaller campaigns, which were gradually eating away the frontiers of the Confederacy; and, as a result, be forced to concentrate their columns in response to his initiatives. 99 Lee's movement into the western part of the state, via Frederick and into the Middleton and Pleasant valleys, opened the Shenandoah Valley up momentarily, which assisted Loring's advance in western Virginia, by isolating the small Federal commands in that region. In addition to freeing up Loring to make an offensive, Lee's army in western Maryland split the Federal war effort in half. The Army of the Potomac was now confined in environs around Washington, while Federal forces in the Western Theater had no direct route to reinforce McClellan. 100 The simultaneous advance of Lee, Loring, Marshall, Smith, and Bragg effectively drove a wedge between the Union field armies, while Price and Van Dorn's forces kept Grant fixed at Corinth. 101 Bragg and Smith's columns made their march through eastern and middle Tennessee and into Kentucky at an incredible speed, leaving Buell's army to have to hustle to catch up. 102 Kirby Smith realized the opportunity in front of him early on and moved his men forward roughly the same time Lee's men were preparing to destroy John Pope's forces near Manassas, beginning the Kentucky Campaign. Union Brigadier General George W. Morgan's command held the vital Cumberland Gap, which historian Earl Hess christened the "Gibraltar of the West." 99 Harsh, 116. 100 Hartwig, 162-163. 101 Harsh, 96-97; Hess, 31-35. 102 Hess, 57,62,64. 44 The Gap itself served as a platform for the Federals to invade East Tennessee, and as long as it remained in Federal hands, the Deep South, particularly Chattanooga and Atlanta, would be under constant threat. 103 Reducing this garrison was the first lynchpin in breaking Federal control and regaining Tennessee for the South. Smith, now free to maneuver feinted around the gap and threatened the supply lines, forcing a Federal withdrawal; he then turned his legions northward and moved into Kentucky. Smith moved through the eastern part of the state and pushed Heth's division as far as Covington, directly across from Cincinnati, sending that city and southern Ohio into a panic. 104 With Smith's small army running almost unmolested in Kentucky, Bragg's larger army moved through Middle Tennessee via Sparta feinting towards Nashville, forcing the Federals to concentrate there, while strategically widening the gap between Buell's command and Southern forces in Kentucky. Bragg, before departing to Chattanooga, left behind roughly 35,000 men in two separate commands under generals Stirling Price and Earl Van Dorn. These commands had a twofold objective. Their primary objective was to contain the Army of the Tennessee at Corinth, and once Bragg and Smith were in position, launch an offensive of their own against Grant, defeat him, and then rapidly march to connect with Bragg's army. 105 Bragg and Smith exposed the weakness in the Federal policy of limited war with its preoccupation of taking landmarks and reliance on cumbersome supply lines and within less than a months' time-reversed almost a year of Union progress in the west, in respect to subjugating the Upper South. Unlike John Bell Hood's offensive into Tennessee in late 1864, which, while certainly an emergency, did not deviate Sherman from his plans of marching to the sea. 106 In 103 Hess, 7-8. 104 Volpe, "Dispute Every Inch of Ground", 141. 105 Noe, 29. 106 Eric A. Jacobson and Richard A. Rupp, For Cause and for Country: A Study of the Affair at Spring Hill and the Battle of Franklin, Eric A. Jacobson, 2013. 42. 45 1862, this simply was impossible for Federal forces. Sherman operated under a "hard war" doctrine that allowed him to subsist off the land and changed his objective from key city centers to making war on the Southern people, through the destruction of their local economy, food subsistence, and ability subsist in a normal capacity. 107 Sherman effectively narrowed the war to the immediate doorstep of the Southern People. As a result the individual citizen was forced to deal with their own survival, and naturally the bigger picture of the Confederacy became less important. Union forces in 1862 did not have the same conditional framework, and by default, would be forced to pursue any Confederate force and meet it on the battlefield. Even though the fall of 1862 didn't produce the hoped-for victory conditions, strategically, the Confederates were more successful in this period than at any other part of the war. The results of this success were more apparent in the Western Theater than in the east. However, certain components in the Eastern Theater changed as well. The most significant measurable success emerged in time bought for the Confederacy, and a prolonged timetable for the Northern plan of war. In the summer, Federal plans in the west called for the capture of Vicksburg and Chattanooga, the latter of which was in progress when the offensive started. 108 It is highly probable that if able, the Federal forces would have moved on Vicksburg in the summer of 1862, and perhaps forced its capitulation much sooner. 109 However, this is only speculation, yet, the reality is this operation was certainly delayed by the events that occurred in Kentucky and the aggressive nature of Price and Van Dorn. Kentucky was only one variable in stymieing the Federal drive toward Vicksburg. Just as important were the aggressiveness of Price and Van Dorn at the battles of Iuka and Corinth in October. Although Confederate defeats, the outcome of 107 Charles Royster, The Destructive War: William Tecumseh Sherman, Stonewall Jackson, and the Americans, New York: Alfred A. Knopf Inc. 321-328. 108 McPherson, 511-512. 109 Woodworth, Nothing but Victory, 243-244. 46 these battles managed to temporarily check the Federals, prompting an end to any realistic campaign season in Mississippi. At least for the foreseeable future, the Mississippi River remained open by way of Vicksburg, and Union strategy incomplete, in which case was Price and Van Dorn's big contribution. 110 Bragg and Smith failed to hold Kentucky and or convert her into a Confederate state. However, as the logistic concerns show, the state's complete occupation, with the available forces, was genuinely impossible. In all the engagements that had taken place, the Southerners had the better day. Kirby Smith's army completely routed Federal forces at Richmond in August, and Bragg's army captured the garrison at Munfordville. Before and during the campaign John Hunt Morgan's cavalry had wreaked havoc in Kentucky, capturing supplies, disrupting communications, and pushing to the Ohio River virtually unchallenged. 111 Even Kentucky's principle battle at Perryville was the better day tactically for the Confederates. More than anything, Kentucky showed the weakness of Buell, limited war, and the Union's inability to protect vital territory adequately under a conciliation policy. While in the end Bragg and Smith left, they did so generally unmolested, which showed Buell's unwillingness to fight another pitched battle. Therefore, this aftermath was certainly nothing for the Union to be proud of. In truth Buell did not drive Bragg and Smith out of Kentucky, rather the limitations of logistics and the realization of strategic objectives forced the Confederates back to Tennessee. 112 Although Braxton Bragg is surrounded by much controversy and sharp opinions on his leadership capabilities, one must look past emotion and see the facts as they present in the strategic element. While indeed, the Confederates failed to hold Kentucky, they did succeed in 110 Woodworth, 239-240. 111 Hess, 12. 112 Noe, 333. 47 regaining portions of Tennessee. In particular, Middle Tennessee by way of Murfreesboro, which sat astride the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad, and was seen as the key to the wealthy Stone, Duck, and Elk River valleys. 113 Historian Thomas Connelly pointed out, which was already previously noted, that Tennessee was by far the most critical state in terms of manufacturing to the South. Although the entire state wasn't in Confederate hands, over two-thirds of it was, and most importantly, the opportunity to secure the very vital Nashville and Mississippi River corridor remained a possibility for a future campaign. 114 The primary focal point in the interpretation of the Kentucky Campaign is the Confederate failure to remain within that state. However, the key phrase narrows down to opportunity and potential. If taken in this context, the Confederate forces in July were backed into a corner. However, come October, these same forces had managed to throw the Federal forces off balance and regain a significant portion of lost territory, changing the entire atmosphere and flow of the Western Theater. In short, the success of the Kentucky Campaign is that it allowed the Confederates to move from the verge of defeat to a position where the fate of the Western Theater was up in the air, which only a decisive campaign would bring to a conclusion. 115 The fall of 1862 was the last chance the Confederates had at securing Tennessee permanently during the war. While the Western Theater was more significant in terms of strategic gain and leverage, the Eastern Theater added its own momentous shift in the flow of events. Unlike the west, the Eastern Theater was very narrow, as it existed in the space between Richmond and Washington. In strategic terms, the region was harrowing regarding maneuvering room and logistical sustainment. In one sense, Lee and his army were successful in pushing the Army of the Potomac 113 Peter Cozzens, No Better Place to Die: The Battle of Stones River, Chicago: University of Illinois, 1990. 8. 114 Connelly, 16-22. 115 Cozzens, No Better Place to Die, 12-14; Hess, 116. 48 away from the gates of Richmond, along with wrecking the Army of Virginia, while lastly temporarily clearing the smaller theaters, such as the coast and Shenandoah Valley of Federal forces. 116 While this situation may have provided an opportunity in the west, it meant little or nothing in the east. The fact is, Lee understood his primary objective either consisted of breaking the Northern will to fight through battlefield victory or by the complete destruction of the Union army. 117 Lee's primary objective in Maryland was to bate the Federal forces into a showdown fight. He was successful in this mission by just crossing over the Potomac River. The location of Washington in the southern portion of Maryland across from Alexandria made an incursion in Maryland a threat for the Federal government. 118 Unlike the west, where a fair amount of effort was required for Bragg and Smith to march their armies the distance required to Kentucky, the Army of Northern Virginia did not have to move far to accomplish its mission. Another key component to Lee's strategic objective was the lack of overhead in its long-term goal. Unlike the Western Theater, there was no pressure for Lee to specifically secure any particular region, as the Confederacy in the east had not lost any of its production capabilities nor any significant amount of land to Federal occupation. Therefore, the Confederate movements' direction wasn't necessarily guided by a specific purpose, but rather by the necessity of strategic gains which were designed to draw out the Army of the Potomac in a state of haste and unpreparedness. However, whereas the Kentucky Campaign had different aspects of measurable success, the 116 Harsh, 19-20. 117 Murfin, 63-64. 118 Harsh, 23; Murfin, 36-40; McPherson, 555-556. All the major historians who focus on the Maryland Campaign point to this as a major component to deterring the outcome and purpose of Lee's strategy. 49 Maryland Campaign had none, only a single purpose that demanded a climactic clash to determine its outcome. 119 At no other point in the war did Lee have such an advantage and control of the initiative. Arguably, his combination of subordinate officers was the best in their position as a whole than at any other point. His army was operating off a long track of victory, the length of which they would not experience again. 120 And most importantly, the Maryland Campaign was truly the only time in which Lee would have direct control of the flow of events; in Richmond, he had acted out of desperation, in Northern Virginia, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, the Overland Campaign and Petersburg he counteracted his opponents moves, and at Gettysburg, he committed to a battle that was dictated by the Federals. In September of 1862, Lee was the composer of the campaign and the master of ceremonies, he and he alone decided when and where the climactic battle would be fought. 121 All too often, the argument arises that the Army of the Potomac moved quicker than Lee expected, and caught him off guard, forcing him to settle and fight an unprepared battle at Sharpsburg. This theory would make sense if Lee's strategic objectives were multilayered like Bragg or Smith. Nevertheless, this theory doesn't match up to his sole objective of a decisive engagement. As seen with logistical circumstances, Hagerstown was likely the limit for the army in terms of range, Lee, therefore, had decided to make the principle stand somewhere in that area. 122 Two factors make this apparent, the choice to reduce Harpers Ferry and Martinsburg, which are necessary for military doctrine, and the choice to have the army lay around Frederick 119 OR, vol 16, 2: Correspondence between Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis, September 8, 1862; Harsh, 119; Alexander, Fighting for the Confederacy, 139. 120 Hartwig, 126-127. 121 Harsh, 57-59. 122 Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. I ,108-111; Harsh, 190; Hartwig, 116-117; Murfin, 113. All of these sources for reasons ranging from realistic logistical concerns to Lee's strategic initiative point towards the area of Hagerstown as the realistic goal of the Confederate offensive. 50 for several days. 123 If the plan had been to fight somewhere else or keep the Federals at a distance, these two factors fit the mold. The truth is that Lee wanted a fight, and he wanted it quick, the geography of Western Maryland affords a great opportunity to a defending army, which was Lee's primary tactical vision. 124 Looking at the scope of the Army of Northern Virginia's movements in the campaign, there a few abundantly clear facts that warrant Lee's strategic designs. It's already been stated that Lee's intention was to draw out the Army of the Potomac, which he did by simply crossing into Maryland, and ushered the emergency by crossing east of the mountains. 125 The next key was the layover or taunting of the Federals by having his army remain in Frederick for several days. The decision to reduce the Harpers Ferry garrison, while militarily necessary, also doubly acted as part of the "national emergency" which further put pressure on McClellan and his army to move with haste. 126 The battle of South Mountain, while a Confederate defeat, opened the way for the Federals to move over the range and meet Lee on the ground of his choosing. 127 South Mountain is interesting, particularly for strategic reasons. The choice to leave one division under D.H. Hill to hold the three passes stretched over ten miles indicates that Lee didn't intend to stop the Federals there and expected them to take the position. A decisive battle along the South Mountain range would not have been beneficial for Lee to meet his objectives. His army would not have been able to counterattack effectively due to terrain, and maneuvering room would have been limited. Although Lee initially considered scrapping the campaign due to the longer than expected siege of Harpers Ferry, once the garrison did fall, he was able to 123 Harsh, 147-150; Hartwig, 211-212, OR, vol 16, 2, 603 (Special Orders 191) 605-608. 124 Allan, 201-205; Harsh, 98-99; Marshall, 148-150. 125 Marshall, 146. 126 Brian Matthew Jordan, Unholy Sabbath: The Battle of South Mountain in History and Memory September 14, 1862, New York: Savas Beatie, 2012. 80-85. 127 Jordon, Unholy Sabbath, 301. 51 concentrate his forces in the area of Sharpsburg. 128 It may not be that Lee specifically wanted to fight at Sharpsburg, but the lay of the land and the tactical and strategic components of it, offered natural terrain on which to fight a decisive battle. 129 The Antietam battlefield offered several very strong defensive opportunities. First was the Antietam Creek, which was wide and deep enough to stop infantry from crossing unless over a bridge. The terrain, particularly on the southern end of the battlefield, is very suitable for a defending force, along with the ground near the center of the battlefield. On the northern end, the terrain is its weakest for defense; however, the entire battlefield, especially the northern end, is very suitable for artillery employment. Lee's position at Antietam Creek was without question formidable. 130 Whereas the events in Kentucky were one of maneuver, Maryland hinged on the tactical climax. Therefore, both forces needed to clash and soundly defeat the other to end the campaign. The battle of Antietam itself ended in a draw, and the opposing lines virtually remained the same. 131 Having realized the day after the engagement that McClellan wasn't likely to attack again, and understanding that his position offered no benefits for his army to attack, Lee promptly withdrew back into Shepherdstown, Virginia, (West Virginia) intending to regroup his army and re-crossing the Potomac River near Williamsport to again sue for a decisive battle. The Confederate's were blocked by several determining factors though, the two primary factors being McClellan's choice to move the VI Corps north towards Hagerstown to block a crossing, and a large amount of straggling that has taken place since the start of the 128 Allan, 320. 129 Harsh, 301-303. 130 Phillip Thomas Tucker, Burnside's Bridge: The Climatic Struggle of the 2nd and 20th Georgia at Antietam Creek, Mechanicsburg: Stackpole Books, 2000. 47-54. 131 Ezra Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. 2: Antietam. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. 501. 52 campaigning that had severely reduced Lee's army from upwards of 70,000 men down to roughly 45,000. 132 While Lee did not thrash McClellan's army at Antietam to the extent his strategic objectives called for, the opportunity for a Confederate political victory was not entirely gone. In fact, Lee's offensive convinced Britain and France that Northern armies could never restore the Union, and they contemplated mediation, which would have constituted de facto recognition of the Confederacy. 133 Moving away from the narrow view of Lee and Maryland it is important to note that Bragg's army had achieved a significant victory on September 17 at Munfordville the same day the battle of Antietam was raging. While Lee's army was more or less locked in a stalemate in Maryland, the western Confederate forces still very much retained the initiative in Kentucky. If a successful outcome in Kentucky occurred, perhaps that would be enough to enhance the stalemate at Antietam into a negative outcome for the Union. 134 Lee did not wait in position along Antietam Creek, for events to develop in Kentucky, he didn't have to. By simply moving back across the river and McClellan's inability to pursue for logistical reasons, Lee still very much posed a serious threat, especially with re-crossing into Maryland if need be. Looking at the outcome of the Maryland Campaign and the factors involved in the forces' genetic composition, Lee's army achieved all that could reasonably be expected of it. Certainly, due to its size, it would be impossible to annihilate the Army of the Potomac, yet, by remaining together and gaining the tactical victory, that would have to be enough. 135 132 Murfin, 306. 133 McPherson, 546. 134 Earl J. Hess, Braxton Bragg: The Most Hated Man in the Confederacy, University of North Carolina Press, 2016. 63. 135 Ezra Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Vol. III: Shepherdstown Ford and the End of the Campaign. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. 20-21. 53 Truly then the lynchpin of the 1862 Confederate offensive rested on the shoulders of Bragg and Smith. 136 Lee's offensive and climatic battle of Antietam would have held little or no importance if the events west of the Appalachian's hadn't been taking place in the manner they were. The ultimate failure of Bragg and Smith in Kentucky was their inability to link their armies together. The process involved in making this happen didn't occur until it was too late. 137 Regardless of why this juncture of uniting these armies didn't occur, the important point was that they retained the initiative until the battle of Perryville. Unlike Lee, Bragg and Smith didn't necessarily have to defeat Buell or Wright's local forces, but rather they just needed to exist in Kentucky. Smith's forces had cleared out Morgan and what pitiful resistance Wright was able to scrape together. Buell's army lingered exhausted and timidly in the western part of the state. Bragg and Smith controlled in theory over two-thirds of the state in the last weeks of September into October. 138 The high tide of the Confederacy occurred not at Antietam, but in the days before Perryville. Up until this date, the South had been successful in relieving Richmond, Chattanooga, Vicksburg, the Carolina coast, Shenandoah Valley, western Virginia, and Northern Virginia of any significant Federal occupation, or military operations. The Confederate armies were at its maxim of manpower, at least in theory, if not in actual employment and contained men who were wholly more experienced than their counterparts. Most importantly, the South had been successful universally of maintaining a Confederate wide offensive initiative. When looking at the battles of South Mountain, Richmond, Munfordville, Antietam, and Harpers Ferry, only 136 Hess, Braxton Bragg, 64. 137 Noe, 328-329. 138 Daniel, 128-129; Hess, 62-64; Noe, 104. 54 South Mountain had been a Federal victory and Antietam a draw, while the rest were complete decisive Confederate victories. The battle of Perryville long considered the principal battle of the Kentucky Campaign was neither decisive nor climatic. 139 The battle itself was fought only by portions of the armies, on ground that held no real strategic value to the overall goals of the campaign. However, the legacy of Perryville resides in Bragg's choice to withdraw his army from Kentucky in its aftermath. Leaving aside Bragg's personality, leadership issues, and his subordinates, the important aspect to look at is what was actually accomplished by his army. It's already been stated that Bragg and Smith's offensive knocked the Federal plan of war back a few pegs and opened up at two-thirds of Tennessee for the foreseeable future. Confederate goals upon entering Kentucky were unclear and varied in design between Bragg and Smith. 140 Perhaps the largest draw was establishing the state as Confederate, which they quickly understood wasn't a popular option amongst the people. That being the case, Confederate field armies could only subsist for so long in hostile territory until they would, by necessity, be forced to withdraw to friendly Tennessee. 141 Therefore, without the support of the majority of Kentuckians to endorse a Confederate government, the continuation of a Southern army within the state offered no benefit to the Confederacy. 142 Bragg and Smith's only true strategic failing was their inability to link together and deliver a decisive blow against Buell. If looked at in the context of the genetics of an ocean wave, the advance into Kentucky was the last little bit of the wave that rolls into the edge of the beach. It neither has the momentum nor the power to damage anything of significant strength. However, the break or 139 Noe, 343. 140 Hess, 56-57. 141 Connelly, 228; Noe, 334. 142 Noe, 336. 55 impact of the wave that occurs just before hitting shore tends to denote the power of the temporary effects inflicted within that particular wave's life span. Sticking with the ocean wave analogy, the Confederate wide offensive in the fall of 1862 was the last ocean wave before the tide changed. The lifespan of the Confederacy would perish in the calm time between the next high tide. Conclusion: The interpretations of the Civil War, its key moments, critical players, and even the purpose of the conflict, vary in many different extremes, platforms, and algorithms. Surely there were other critical moments of the war, in which the Confederacy could have theoretically changed the outcome or moments in which Union forces could have ended the war much sooner. The progress of the war is a fascinating storyline of complete unpreparedness through a series of excruciating growing pains that led to the high efficiency of conducting war. Looking at the grand scope of the conflict, particularly the logistics of the opposing sides, even the most novice student of the struggle can recognize that the Confederacy was severely behind in every aspect and shouldn't have waged war. 143 However, the fact remains they did, and the reality is any Southern hope for victory resided in the slowness, unpreparedness, and political deadlock of the North's ability to wage war. The true window in which to view why the fall of 1862 was the Southern high tide occurs in the aftermath of the campaigns themselves. The first and most critical component was the issuance of the Emancipation Proclamation. The bold political move forever changed the direction and intent of the war. For the South, it had devastating consequences, as it eliminated 143 McPherson, 312-316. 56 any dream of European intervention, and essentially made the Confederacy an island left to its own. The proclamation also bled into the second crucial component, which truly had its roots at the beginning of 1862; however, it had become fully developed by the closing days of 1862, and that is the abandonment of "limited war" principals and the acceptance of "hard war" doctrine. 144 Militarily the South would never mount such a broad offensive again nor one with so much potential to gain from it. Lee's Pennsylvania Campaign in 1863, while more famous, did not have the potential as nine months prior when he crossed into Maryland. 145 Lee in June of 1863 was acting independently, while Confederate armies in the west were giving ground rapidly and losing Vicksburg. 146 Even with Confederate victory at Chickamauga, Bragg nor his predecessors could ever mount an effective counterthrust to regain vital Tennessee. 147 Hood's Tennessee Campaign in 1864 offered the closest opportunity; however, his cause was pyrrhic and traded the destruction of Georgia for the hope of gaining Tennessee. 148 The commencement of the Overland Campaign in 1864 saw the end of Lee's ability to mount a counterattack that had won for him on previous battlefields. With his numbers dwindling, and the Union's production capabilities at its height, continuing supply of reinforcements, and Grant's power to coordinate multiple armies upon Lee, forced the Confederate leader to dance to the tune of Grant's strategy. 149 144 McPherson, 567. 145 Coddington, The Gettysburg Campaign, 4-8. 146 Edwin C. Bearss and J. Parker Hills, Receding Tide: Vicksburg and Gettysburg the Campaigns that Changed the Civil War, National Geographic Society, 2010. 266. 147 Steven Woodworth, Six Armies in Tennessee: The Chickamauga and Chattanooga, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1998. 144. 148 Jacobson, For Cause and for Country, 524. 149 Gordon C. Rhea, The Battle of the Wilderness May 5-6, 1864, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1994. 9-10, 12-13, 22. 57 The Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns were episodes that the Union could not afford to lose. Certainly, Union armies, especially in the east, met multiple setbacks, defeats, and disasters throughout the war; however, a loss at this critical juncture in each theater would have produced devastating consequences from which the North could not recover. The brilliance of these campaigns resides in the fact that neither side could afford a negative outcome, and a victorious outcome for either side had the power and capabilities to change the entire trajectory of the war. The Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns do not have a true decisive victor in respect to the definition, yet, the rate at which the Union declared victory and the rapidity with which it instituted new measures both politically and militarily showed the emergency the events in the fall of 1862 produced for the North. 150 An acceptance of that notion coupled with political density, logistical pitfalls, organizational hurtles, and strategic objectives, will clearly indicate that the fall of 1862 in the course of the Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns, along with their supporting offenses was the high tide of the Confederacy, and the moment the Civil War changed trajectory in both political and military senses, which was the beginning of the Confederacy's defeat. 150 Muehlbauer, Ways of War, 197-200. 58 Bibliography Secondary Sources: Anderson, Nancy Scott and Dwight Anderson. The Generals: Ulysses. S. Grant and Robert E. Lee. Avenel: New Jersey, 1987. Bearss, Edwin C. and J. 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The Situation In The Middle East This Record Contains The Text Of Speeches Delivered In English And Of The Translation Of Speeches Delivered In Other Languages. ; United Nations S/PV.8195 Security Council Seventy-third year 8195th meeting Wednesday, 28 February 2018, 10.35 a.m. New York Provisional President: Mr. Alotaibi. . (Kuwait) Members: Bolivia (Plurinational State of). . Mr. Inchauste Jordán China. . Mr. Wu Haitao Côte d'Ivoire. . Mr. Tanoh-Boutchoue Equatorial Guinea. . Mr. Ndong Mba Ethiopia. . Ms. Guadey France. . Mr. Delattre Kazakhstan. . Mr. Tumysh Netherlands. . Mr. Van Oosterom Peru. . Mr. Meza-Cuadra Poland. . Ms. Wronecka Russian Federation. . Mr. Nebenzia Sweden . Mr. Orrenius Skau United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland . Mr. Allen United States of America. . Ms. Eckels-Currie Agenda The situation in the Middle East Report of the Secretary-General on the implementation of Security Council resolutions 2139 (2014), 2165 (2014), 2191 (2014), 2258 (2015), 2332 (2016) and 2393 (2017) (S/2018/138) This record contains the text of speeches delivered in English and of the translation of speeches delivered in other languages. The final text will be printed in the Official Records of the Security Council. Corrections should be submitted to the original languages only. They should be incorporated in a copy of the record and sent under the signature of a member of the delegation concerned to the Chief of the Verbatim Reporting Service, room U-0506 (verbatimrecords@un.org). Corrected records will be reissued electronically on the Official Document System of the United Nations (http://documents.un.org). 18-05507 (E) *1805507* S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 2/22 18-05507 The meeting was called to order at 10.35 a.m. Adoption of the agenda The agenda was adopted. The situation in the Middle East Report of the Secretary-General on the implementation of Security Council resolutions 2139 (2014), 2165 (2014), 2191 (2014), 2258 (2015), 2332 (2016) and 2393 (2017) (S/2018/138) The President (spoke in Arabic): In accordance with rule 39 of the Council's provisional rules of procedure, I invite the following briefers to participate in this meeting: Mr. Mark Lowcock, Under-Secretary- General for Humanitarian Affairs and Emergency Relief Coordinator, and Mr. Jeffrey Feltman, Under- Secretary-General for Political Affairs. The Security Council will now begin its consideration of the item on its agenda. I wish to draw the attention of the members of the Council to document S/2018/138, which contains the report of the Secretary-General on the implementation of Security Council resolutions 2139 (2014), 2165 (2014), 2191 (2014), 2258 (2015), 2332 (2016) and 2393 (2017). I now give the floor to Mr. Lowcock. Mr. Lowcock: We have received a lot of questions about resolution 2401 (2018), which the Security Council adopted on Saturday, 22 February, and its demand for a cessation of hostilities without delay for at least 30 consecutive days throughout Syria. I want to start today by answering the questions we have received. Is the United Nation ready to deliver to people who need humanitarian assistance? Yes. We have convoys ready to go to 10 besieged and hard-to-reach locations, including a 45-truck convoy with aid for 90,000 people to Douma and eastern Ghouta. Are you ready to support medical evacuations from eastern Ghouta? Yes, we are working very closely with the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), the Syrian Arab Red Crescent and other health partners on that. Has resolution 2401 (2018) been implemented? Is there a ceasefire in Syria? No, and no. Have you got any inter-agency cross-line convoys through to hard-to-reach or besieged areas? No. Have you been given permission to access any of those locations? No. Have you received the necessary facilitation letters for convoys? No. Have there been any medical evacuations? No. Have any civilians left eastern Ghouta? No. Is there any actual improvement in the humanitarian situation in eastern Ghouta since the adoption of the resolution demanding, as it did, unimpeded access? No. Can you deliver assistance in eastern Ghouta during a humanitarian pause between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m. local time? To quote the ICRC Middle East Director, who spoke about that yesterday: "It is impossible to bring a humanitarian convoy in five hours." Agencies now have years of experience in that area, and it can take a day simply to pass checkpoints, even when the parties have agreed. The goods then have to be offloaded. If there has been no humanitarian access since the adoption of resolution 2401 (2018) on Saturday, what has happened in the past few days? More bombing, fighting, death, destruction, maiming of women and children, hunger and misery — in other words, more of the same. On 26 February, two days ago, airstrikes, barrel bombs and artillery shelling were reported across eastern Ghouta, including in Harasta, Shafuniyeh, Otaya, Hosh Eldawahreh, Al-Ashari, Jobar, Beit Sawa, Hazerma, Hannnura, Nashabiyeh, Sagba and Douma. Reports indicate that at least 30 civilians, including women and children, were killed. In Shafuniyeh, 14 people, including three women and four children, were reportedly killed and many others injured by airstrikes. Eighteen civilians, including drivers of ambulances, women and children, were reportedly received at health facilities in Shafuniyeh with difficulties breathing, consistent with the use of chlorine. One child reportedly died as a result. On the same day, two workers from local non-governmental organizations (NGOs) were reportedly killed as a result of shelling on the besieged enclave. It was also reported that two health-care facilities in Saqba were taken out of service by airstrikes. In the past few days, shells have also reportedly continued to fall on Damascus city from eastern Ghouta. Since 18 February, more than 580 people are now reported to have been killed due to air and ground strikes in eastern Ghouta, with many more than 1,000 people injured. At the same time, hundreds of rockets fired from eastern Ghouta into Damascus have reportedly killed 15 people and injured more than 200. I now want to update the Security Council on the situation in other parts of the country. 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 3/22 In Idlib, fighting continues to kill and injure civilians, destroy civilian infrastructure and result in large population movements. Since December, an estimated 385,000 people have been displaced, with many civilians moving north. Half of Idlib's population was already displaced. People are being forced to move yet again, with each disruption increasing their vulnerability. Civilians are concentrated in an ever-smaller area. Many are forced to live in makeshift camps or in the open air. Formal camps are overwhelmed, operating at up to 400 per cent of their capacity. The response is being stretched to its limits. We are receiving reports of civilian deaths and injuries and of restriction on the movement of many civilians as a result of military operations in Afrin. Those who risk moving continue to be stopped at exit points by the local authorities in Afrin, preventing them from accessing safer areas. We believe that, so far, approximately 5,000 people have reached the surrounding villages and Aleppo city. Tens of thousands are believed to be displaced within Afrin. The Turkish authorities have emphasized to us their willingness to facilitate humanitarian access. We would like to see aid convoys operated from Damascus. However, to date that has not been agreed by the Syrian side. In Raqqa city, conditions remain unsafe for the return of internally displaced persons (IDPs). Among those trying to return home, 637 people have been injured and more than 125 killed by unexploded ordinance since last October. Medical and other essential services are absent and access for humanitarian workers to the city remains precariously limited because the conditions are so dangerous. As I have said before, demining activities need to be accelerated as a matter of urgency. Humanitarian access for the United Nations and its implementing partners in Hasakah was limited for much of January due to the increased restrictions placed by the local authorities. United Nations convoys were blocked from travelling to the northeast from elsewhere within the country. The delivery of aid already in local warehouses was also blocked. While an agreement to resume humanitarian deliveries was reached on 30 January, that agreement will end in March. NGO partners continue to deliver goods and services across the north-east. However, sustainable access for the United Nations is critical. Any protracted interruption of humanitarian assistance and services in the IDP sites may drive the displaced people back to areas where they are not safe. Earlier this month, the United Nations received clearance for the first assessment visit to Deir ez-Zor after it had been under the control of the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) for three and a half years. More than 100,000 people live in the town despite that fact that it is estimated to be 80 per cent destroyed. The infrastructure is almost completely destroyed, particularly in the central and the eastern areas, where ISIL was in control. In coordination with the Syrian Arab Red Crescent, the United Nations has dispatched 78 trucks carrying food, health, nutrition, protection, shelter, education, water and sanitation items since last September, when ISIL was driven out. Finally, we remain concerned about the tens of thousands of people stranded in Rukban, in south-eastern Syria. We continue to seek the necessary agreements for convoys of life-saving assistance to them. As I said last week (see S/PV. 8186), there was a severe reduction, of nearly 40 per cent, in cross-line access to besieged and hard-to-reach areas in 2017 as compared to 2016. On average in 2017, over the entire 12-month period, we reached 165,000 people a month with cross-line convoys. That was completely inadequate. So far this year, we have reached a total of only 7,200 people through a single small convoy earlier this month. In other words, we were reaching more than 50 times as many people in besieged and hard-to-reach areas last year as to date this year. The main reason for the reduction in the number of convoys has been the consistent refusal by the Government of Syria to provide the necessary approvals and facilitation letters to support delivery. As the Secretary-General's report (S/2018/138) details, while we continue to reach millions of people in urgent need in areas controlled by the Government of Syria and through the cross-border programmes mandated in resolution 2393 (2017), assistance across conflict lines to millions of people in hard-to-reach and besieged areas has completely collapsed in recent months. Unless that changes, we will soon see even more people dying from starvation and disease than from the bombing and shelling. The United Nations remains focused on reaching those most in need throughout the country, including the 5.6 million people considered to be in acute need. The needs-based approach means that the United Nations will continue to seek to deliver aid and to S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 4/22 18-05507 provide services to millions of people in a principled manner regardless of where they are located. More than half of those in need are in Government-controlled areas. However, millions more people are not. What the Syrian people need has been made abundantly clear — protection, access to basic goods and services, an end to sieges and respect for international humanitarian law and international human rights law. The Security Council has unanimously supported all such needs in adopting resolution 2401 (2018). I started today by answering questions that we have received regarding resolution 2401 (2018). I would like to end with a question for the Security Council. When will the resolution be implemented? The President (spoke in Arabic): I thank Mr. Lowcock for his briefing. I now give the floor to Mr. Feltman. Mr. Feltman: I am grateful for this opportunity to brief the Security Council following the comprehensive briefing by Under-Secretary-General Mark Lowcock. In two weeks, we will mark the beginning of the eighth year of the Syrian conflict. There are no words to express our frustration over the collective failure of the international community to end this war, but that frustration is nothing compared to the suffering and destruction visited ceaselessly upon the Syrian people. We are here again today because the brief respite that the Council unanimously demanded only days ago in resolution 2401 (2018) has not materialized, as Mr. Lowcock just described. The air strikes, shelling and ground offensives continue. There are even reports of yet another chlorine gas attack. What we need is the implementation of resolution 2401 (2018), and that is not happening. Nearly seven years since the peaceful protests in Dar'a and the reaction that set in motion what would eventually become all-out war, we are still grasping for a political solution, which is the only way to end the bloodletting. The Secretary-General has called eastern Ghouta a hell on Earth. The United Nations will continue to work with Syrians and the international community to help bring about a durable political solution. We will also continue to demand that all the parties involved in the conflict respect international humanitarian law — the rules of war — and protect civilians. We will continue to demand the release of those who have been arbitrarily detained and the end of enforced disappearances. We will continue to forcefully call for justice and accountability. Those responsible for the catalogue of horrors that mark daily life in Syria, including chemical and terrorist attacks, torture and sexual violence, sieges and attacks on hospitals, schools and other civilian infrastructure, must be held accountable. Those outrages continue in large part because the perpetrators have so far enjoyed impunity. As the Secretary-General said earlier this week, "Security Council resolutions are only meaningful if they are effectively implemented". The United Nations acknowledges Russia's announcement of a daily five-hour pause for eastern Ghouta. In addition to Mr. Lowcock's briefing and what the International Committee of the Red Cross has stated, we respectfully remind all parties that resolution 2401 (2018) demands the sustained delivery of humanitarian aid for a minimum of 30 consecutive days. The Secretariat and relevant agencies are united and pulling in one direction towards the immediate and continuous cessation of hostilities that can be sustained beyond 30 days for unimpeded aid delivery. We also urgently need to get humanitarian aid and services in and the sick and critically wounded evacuated from besieged eastern Ghouta and other locations. We are ready to deliver. The Secretary-General has repeatedly reminded parties of their absolute obligation under international humanitarian law and human rights law to protect civilians and civilian infrastructure. Earlier this month, Emergency Relief Coordinator Lowcock told the Council (see S/PV.8186) in no uncertain terms that that is an obligation, not a favour. He has just updated us all on the humanitarian situation and provided an update on the United Nations readiness to deliver aid and services, and the tireless efforts of humanitarians to reach all in need, wherever they are. But right now we must address the particular needs of those in besieged eastern Ghouta. Resolution 2401 (2018) affirms that the cessation of hostilities shall not apply to military operations against the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant (ISIL), Al Qaida, the Al-Nusra Front, and "all other individuals, groups, undertakings and entities associated with Al-Qaida or ISIL, and other terrorist groups, as designated by the Security Council". (resolution 2401 (2018), para. 2). In our view, that rightly maintains the parameters set out in resolution 2254 (2015), but there must be 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 5/22 a frank assessment of what that means in relation to the humanitarian tragedy that we are witnessing in eastern Ghouta. First, we condemn all violations of international law by all parties, including shelling from eastern Ghouta, which has injured or killed civilians in Damascus. The scale of the Government's indiscriminate military attacks against eastern Ghouta — an area with a civilian population of 400,000 — cannot be justified based on targeting Jabhat Al-Nusra fighters. Efforts to combat terrorism do not supersede obligations under international humanitarian law and human rights law. Secondly, the United Nations has not seen any confirmation by the Government of Syria of its commitment to implement resolution 2401 (2018), although at the resolution's adoption Syria's Permanent Representative to the United Nations said, "As a State, we bear a responsibility towards our citizens and we have a sovereign right to counter terrorism" (S/PV.8188, p. 12). Thirdly, yesterday the Head of the Syrian Negotiations Committee transmitted to the Secretary- General a letter on behalf of the three major non-State armed opposition groups — Jaysh Al-Islam, Faylaq Al-Rahman and Ahrar Al-Sham — and civil groups in eastern Ghouta regarding their full commitment to the implementation of resolution 2401 (2018). Specifically, they committed to ensuring the necessary environment for United Nations humanitarian access as well as, "to expel all elements of Hay'at Tahrir Al-Sham, Jabhat Al-Nusra and Al-Qaida and all who belong to these groups from eastern Ghouta". Fourthly, the United Nations has no independent verified reports that those three non-State armed opposition groups in eastern Ghouta created a coordination centre, as has been alleged regarding Jabhat Al-Nusra, nor has the United Nations seen any public announcement by those groups of such a centre. Jaysh Al-Islam has denied that claim. What the United Nations can verify is that non-State armed opposition groups in eastern Ghouta, over the past 24 hours, have expressed their readiness in writing to evacuate Jabhat Al-Nusra fighters. Previous negotiations on that issue among those groups and key members of the International Syrian Support Group humanitarian task force in Geneva and Damascus have not resulted in success. Alleviating the tragic situation in eastern Ghouta has the Council's full attention. Yet we cannot forget that resolution 2401 (2018) demands a cessation of hostilities throughout Syria. Violence continues in Afrin, Idlib and the eastern part of the country. Council members have heard about the humanitarian challenges and suffering of the people in those areas as well. I would like to take this opportunity to emphasize that developments in those areas will undoubtedly render the situation in Syria even more complex. There will be no sustainable solution if the Council's resolutions are not implemented. That will require that the parties step back from the brink and fulfil their obligations to end the fighting in Syria. All our efforts will be in vain if there is no serious investment in a political solution. As Council members are aware, resolution 2401 (2018) calls on all Member States to use their influence with the parties to ensure the implementation of the cessation of hostilities. The United Nations calls for a renewed commitment by all concerned Member States to work seriously to implement the cessation of hostilities. The United Nations also cautions against drawing the Organization into monitoring exercises. That has been tried in the past without success — not for lack of trying — but in the absence of political will among Member States to underpin United Nations efforts. Member States, especially those working within the Astana and Amman arrangements, should use their resources and clear influence over the parties to ensure the implementation of a sustained cessation of hostilities throughout Syria. The conflict in Syria continues to threaten regional and international stability because the warring parties believe there is a military solution. There is not. The United Nations remains convinced that a political solution is the only way forward. Special Envoy Staffan de Mistura is pressing forward on facilitating the establishment of a constitutional committee in Geneva, as part of the overall intra-Syrian political process towards the full implementation of resolution 2254 (2015), for which the United Nations requires the positive and constructive engagement of both negotiating delegations. Special Envoy De Mistura will need the full support of the Council and the international community as a whole if the United Nations efforts are to have a chance of reinvigorating a serious and meaningful political process. I trust that he will have that support. S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 6/22 18-05507 The President (spoke in Arabic): I thank Mr. Feltman for his briefing. I shall now give the floor to those members of the Council who wish to make statements. Mr. Orrenius Skau (Sweden): I make my remarks today on behalf of Sweden and Kuwait as co-penholders for the humanitarian track of the Security Council's work on the situation in Syria. I would like to thank Mr. Mark Lowcock once again for a very sobering update. We share his sense of urgency following the adoption of resolution 2401 (2018) last weekend to fully take advantage of the 30- day pause so that the United Nations and its partners can dispatch life-saving aid convoys and begin medical evacuations. Since the resolution's adoption, we have been asked, as penholders, when the resolution would take effect and to whom it would apply. We are very clear: the resolution took effect upon its adoption and applies to all parties across the entire country. The clock is ticking. There is no time to lose. Let me also sincerely thank Mr. Jeffrey Feltman for his briefing today. We share his deep concern concerning reports of the flagrant lack of compliance with the ceasefire in eastern Ghouta. We would like to extend our sincere appreciation to all members of the Council for their constructive cooperation, which enabled the adoption of resolution 2401 (2018). The resolution represents decisive and meaningful action by the Council in response to the calls from the United Nations, the humanitarian community and, above all, the civilian population in Syria. However, the value of a resolution is not in its adoption, but in its implementation. We must now all build on the spirit of cooperation that led to the resolution's adoption and work together to ensure that it is enforced. Compliance with the resolutions of the Security Council is not optional; it is an obligation of all Member States. The humanitarian community stands ready to do its part. Having adopted this resolution, the Council must do its part. For the next few weeks, let us seize the opportunity that this resolution represents and focus on its implementation. We would like to make four concrete recommendations on the way forward. First, existing de-escalation agreements must be complied with most urgently in eastern Ghouta. We call on the three Astana guarantors to spare no effort to achieve this end. Resolution 2401 (2018) clearly demands that all parties cease hostilities; air strikes, the ground offensive and shelling must stop. We take note of the initial positive indications from armed opposition groups in eastern Ghouta that they are ready to comply with the resolution. We also note their commitment to expel the Al-Nusra Front from the area. We must build on this, and we call on those with influence over armed opposition groups to secure their commitment to the cessation of hostilities. Clearly the Council has demanded in resolution 2401 (2018) that the Syrian Government cease all military operations without delay. Secondly, as Mr. Lowcock has told us, the United Nations and its implementing partners in the field are ready to commence life-saving convoys and medical evacuations. We urge the Syrian authorities to immediately issue facilitation letters for the convoy to Duma to proceed this week as a necessary first step. It can no longer be business as usual; the Council has demanded weekly convoys to all areas and populations in need. Thirdly, existing structures to strengthen compliance with and monitoring of the cessation must urgently be activated. We look to the Chairs of the Task Force on the Ceasefire of the International Syria Support Group to undertake more frequent meetings, which are needed at least on a weekly basis. The Amman operations room should also be utilized. We see merit in making a clearer link between monitoring mechanisms and the Security Council. Fourthly, the Council must remain actively seized of this matter. Sweden and Kuwait will request an open briefing from the incoming presidency on the Secretary-General's report on implementation and compliance that is due 15 days after the resolution's adoption. We should also stand ready to meet and take appropriate action at any time necessary so as to ensure implementation of this resolution. Finally, we welcome any efforts to de-escalate violence and to allow and facilitate humanitarian access in Syria, but let us be clear — resolution 2401 (2018) demands a 30-day, nationwide ceasefire, with immediate access for weekly convoys and medical evacuations. A five-hour ceasefire does not meet the requirements of the resolution. The resolution is not primarily about the evacuation of civilians, but demands humanitarian access to civilians and medical evacuations. The 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 7/22 cessation of hostilities must be implemented fully and without delay. It is imperative that all parties uphold their obligations under international humanitarian law and international human rights law at all times. Last Saturday's unanimous action reinforced the legitimacy and credibility of the Security Council (see S/PV.8188). Today's briefings demonstrate that there is no time to rest on the laurels of this achievement. We must now move without delay to ensure our action here last Saturday is translated into the relief and assistance expected by the millions of people affected by this conflict. It is now incumbent on all the parties and all those with influence over the parties to spare no effort and use all channels available in order to advance the full implementation of resolution 2401 (2018). Mr. Delattre (France) (spoke in French): First of all, I want to thank Mark Lowcock and Jeffrey Feltman for their very clear briefings. I would like today to focus my remarks on our shared road map, namely, the full implementation of resolution 2401 (2018), which we adopted unanimously last Saturday (see S/PV. 8188). On behalf of France, I would like to express three main messages today. My first message is that we must not pay lip service. The situation on the ground remains dramatic and has not improved in recent days. Since the adoption of resolution 2401 (2018), the offensive against the eastern Ghouta has continued relentlessly. France, of course, strongly condemns these indiscriminate bombings, which affect inhabited areas and civil infrastructure. In this context, the disastrous humanitarian situation continues to deteriorate. No United Nations convoy has been able to reach the eastern Ghouta or any of the other besieged areas, no emergency medical evacuation has been carried out, no siege has been lifted. The Syrian regime is maintaining its stranglehold on the civilian population and is methodically pursuing its policy of destruction. More than 400,000 people remain under siege in eastern Ghouta, including 130,000 children. The demand sent by the United Nations to authorize a priority convoy for Duma, the main city in eastern Ghouta, has not received any response from the Syrian authorities to date. My second message is this. The resolution adopted by the Security Council on 24 February makes very specific demands on the parties. Hostilities must cease without delay in order to establish a lasting humanitarian truce for at least 30 days, in order to allow both the delivery of humanitarian aid and the evacuation of the wounded and sick. Let me stress this point. These demands are perfectly clear and cannot be distorted or reinterpreted. Contrary to what some would have us believe, the demands made by the resolution are absolutely clear. Our responsibility today is to implement, fully and in their totality, the provisions that we have unanimously adopted. If we do not that, what credibility can be given to our commitments? What credibility can be given to Security Council resolutions? The United Nations and its partners tell us that they are ready to deliver aid to the people of eastern Ghouta and other priority areas. There is therefore not a minute to lose because every minute that passes can turn lives upside down. At the conclusion of difficult negotiations, the Council managed to unite in the face of the gravity of the humanitarian situation and the escalation of the Syrian conflict in recent months. We must now work together, in the same spirit of unity, to effectively implement on the ground the resolution we unanimously adopted. This is my third message. Following yesterday's meeting in Moscow with French Foreign Minister Jean-Yves Le Drian and his Russian counterpart, Sergei Lavrov, France is putting forward four concrete proposals for making progress and for doing so without delay. The first is to ensure that all parties implement the cessation of hostilities that resolution 2401 (2018) demands. I note that the three main opposition groups present in eastern Ghouta as well as Nassar Al Hariri, head of the High Negotiations Committee of the Syrian opposition, have written to the Secretary-General and to the President of the Council to state that they would respect the truce. It is therefore urgent in the extreme — if I can put it that way — that the Damascus regime also unambiguously express its willingness to respect the Council resolution and to formalize it in writing. We have taken note of the Russian proposal of a daily five-hour humanitarian truce. It is a positive first step, but it is insufficient. We must go further. Resolution 2401 (2018) demands of the parties a minimum period of 30 consecutive days of cessation of hostilities. Respecting that demand is non-negotiable. That goal requires more than just symbolic declarations or political posturing. At a minimum, it requires that humanitarian personnel be allowed to do their work. S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 8/22 18-05507 These workers are used to taking risks on a daily basis, but the parties must allow them to do their work. Given that the opposition groups have formally committed to doing just that, the regime must do so as well, and without delay. To that end, supporters of the regime, beginning with Russia, must bring the necessary pressure to bear. Our second proposal, by way of a demand, pertains to the need to immediately open the relevant, clearly identified checkpoints — beginning with Wafideen — in order to allow the access of priority convoys of the United Nations. We therefore demand that the Syrian authorities submit without delay the necessary letter to facilitate the deployment of humanitarian convoys. Thirdly, it is extremely urgent to allow medical evacuations for the most critical cases, giving priority to children. The Syrian Arab Red Crescent indicates that 1,065 people need emergency medical evacuations. We have not a minute to lose. Finally, France considers it essential to create a monitoring mechanism to ensure the implementation of resolution 2401 (2018) and compliance with the resolution by the parties. We are working diligently to establishing that mechanism now. Those are the French proposals to address the urgent need to put an end to the bombing and protect civilians, who beyond resolution 2401 (2018), are protected under international humanitarian law. It is also crucial to intensify our efforts to reach a political solution in the framework of the Geneva process and resolution 2254 (2015). It is the only way out of the conflict and the only way to prevent a looming escalation of tensions. France will not deviate from that path. The overall credibility of the Security Council and the responsibility of each of its members are crucially at stake today in the context of the Syrian tragedy. Mr. Allen (United Kingdom): I would like to thank Under-Secretary-Generals Lowcock and Feltman for their clear, factual briefings and for reiterating to all of us on the Security Council the ongoing horror of the conflict in Syria — and in particular in eastern Ghouta, because that is where it is clear the situation is most dire by a huge order of magnitude. It was five days ago (see S/PV.8188) that we sat in this Chamber and all of us raised our hands in support of a 30-day ceasefire, which we hoped would provide some relief to Syria's people. That was a desperately needed step, one that came too late for many. In eastern Ghouta alone, Médecins Sans Frontières reported that at least 630 people were killed and 3,000 injured in the week before resolution 2401 (2018) was adopted, with women and children representing nearly 60 per cent of the wounded and 50 per cent of the deceased. We also continue to condemn attacks on Damascus from eastern Ghouta. Let us recall the demands of our resolution. It called for at least a 30-day ceasefire without delay to allow for the delivery of humanitarian aid and medical evacuation. "Without delay" means right now, immediately — that there should be no delay. We all voted for those demands and we committed to using our influence to ensure that. In response, Russia has declared a five-hour daily humanitarian window. That is not what the Council demanded, nor what Russia agreed to use its influence to ensure. A five-hour window has not delivered and cannot deliver any meaningful improvement on the ground. Under-Secretary-General Lowcock has made clear that the United Nations cannot get humanitarian convoys in and out within that time frame, as has the International Committee of the Red Cross. Humanitarian pauses of a few meagre hours are no substitute for a sustained ceasefire, which is vital to ensuring the delivery of life-saving humanitarian assistance and medical evacuations. If Russia is able to deliver a five-hour pause, let it deliver a 24-hour pause, as it agreed on Saturday. Let us now take stock of the situation in Syria, and specifically in eastern Ghouta, where the situation is at its most desperate. Let us review if any real change has occurred in the past five days. Has the resolution been implemented? Has there been a ceasefire? Has there been any delivery of humanitarian aid or any medical evacuations? Has the adoption of the resolution brought any relief to the people of Syria? The fighting has not stopped. All of the main armed opposition groups have committed to the full implementation of resolution 2401 (2018). The Al-Assad regime has not, and has in fact ignored the resolution we adopted. Reports of attacks and air strikes by pro-regime forces continue. Twenty-two air strikes reportedly took place even during Russia's so-called humanitarian pause. And, as if it could not get any worse, there have been disturbing reports of the use of chlorine gas. Doctors in eastern Ghouta reported to the Syrian-American Medical Society that 16 patients, including six children, were suffering from symptoms 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 9/22 indicative of exposure to chemical compounds, following an alleged regime attack on Sunday — only one day after the resolution was adopted. Since Saturday not a single aid convoy has been able to access eastern Ghouta to provide relief to the desperate civilians. The World Health Organization estimates that 1,000 people are now in need of medical evacuation from eastern Ghouta. None have been evacuated since the resolution was adopted. The consequences of the failure to implement the resolution are clear: the casualties continue to rise and the horror continues. The Syrian Observatory for Human Rights reports at least 14 civilians, including three children, were killed on Sunday. In short, in the words of one doctor from eastern Ghouta, "Nothing has changed." It is the responsibility of us all to ensure that resolution 2401 (2018) is enacted in full. In the words of my Foreign Secretary, the Al-Assad regime must allow the United Nations to deliver humanitarian aid, in compliance with resolution 2401 (2018), and we look to Russia and Iran to make sure this happens, in accordance with their own promises. I implore all those with influence over the Syrian regime to act now to ensure that the ceasefire that they supported in the Chamber is implemented in full and immediately. To do anything less is an affront to the Council, the United Nations and the international system that we live by. We will continue to monitor the implementation of resolution 2401 (2018) and commit to returning to the Council regularly until we see it respected. Ms. Eckels-Currie (United States of America): Every time the Security Council attempts to address the humanitarian crisis in Syria, we take a small leap of faith. I say "we" in reference to the Security Council. I speak of faith because all Council members and most States Members of the United Nations still genuinely try to uphold the responsibilities under the Charter of the United Nations, including abiding by and fully implementing Security Council resolutions. Despite the grim updates we heard today, we must maintain the hope that we can help the Syrian people. If we do not have that hope, we are wasting our time here. Just four days ago, the Security Council took another leap of faith. We adopted resolution 2401 (2018), demanding a 30-day ceasefire for all of Syria, unimpeded and sustained humanitarian access to deliver desperately needed food and medical supplies, and immediate and unconditional medical evacuations based on need and emergency. Our goal was clear and simple. The Al-Assad regime and its supporters have been pummelling eastern Ghouta, where 400,000 people live under siege and constant bombardment. Resolution 2401 (2018) demanded that the assault stop. That was the Council speaking in one, clear voice. The opposition groups operating in eastern Ghouta have made clear their commitment to the ceasefire. The Free Syrian Army, Jaysh al-Islam, the Al-Rahman Legion and Ahrar al-Sham all committed to implementing resolution 2401 (2018). Against all odds, we hoped that Mr. Al-Assad might respect the resolution, cease hostilities and allow unfettered humanitarian access to all those who need it. Against all odds, we hoped that Russia would use its influence to ensure Mr. Al-Assad's commitment to resolution 2401 (2018). Once again, that hope has been crushed because so far, for the people of eastern Ghouta, nothing has changed. Despite the unanimous call for a ceasefire, the regime's attacks continue unabated. Hundreds of Syrians have been killed or injured since we adopted the resolution on Saturday. What is worse is that less than 24 hours after we demanded the ceasefire, there were reports that the Al-Assad regime again used chlorine gas as a weapon. Such attacks demonstrate Syria's complete and utter contempt for the Council and the United Nations. On Monday one human rights organization reported 18 attacks that defied the Council's demands. On Tuesday another organization reported at least 23 air strikes and four barrel bombs in eastern Ghouta. Syrians on the ground are reporting that Tuesday was worse than Monday with regard to strikes from the regime. How can that be? On the humanitarian front, as Mark Lowcock stated, the Al-Assad regime has allowed no deliveries of assistance into eastern Ghouta — not one. Opposition groups in the area have expressed their commitment to allowing aid in, but the Al-Assad regime still says no. Since we adopted resolution 2401 (2018), Russia has announced a daily five-hour humanitarian pause in the aerial bombing of civilians in eastern Ghouta, which is cynical, callous and in flagrant defiance of the demands of resolution 2401 (2018). The cessation of hostilities is for at least 30 days — every day, all day. Russia does not get to unilaterally rewrite the terms of the resolution. It negotiated it and voted for it. Russia, S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 10/22 18-05507 Iran and the Al-Assad regime are not even trying to hide their intentions. They are asking civilians to leave eastern Ghouta on the false premise that they can then attack anyone left in the area as much as they would like. Let us call the actions what they are. Mr. Al-Assad and his allies want the civilians of eastern Ghouta to walk into the arms of a regime that has been attacking and starving them for the past seven years. That is not a humanitarian gesture. They do not care if the 400,000 people of eastern Ghouta suffer, as long as they can continue to pursue their military and political objectives. We know what Iran, Syria and the Al-Assad regime are doing because they have done the same thing in the past. It is the same playbook they used for Aleppo in 2016. Once again, we, including Russia, demanded in the Security Council Chamber that Mr. Al-Assad stop the bombing, and yet Russia, Iran and Mr. Al-Assad continue their attacks, defying the wishes of the Council and of the international community. Because we have been through this before, we know what Russia will say today. It will say that there are terrorists in eastern Ghouta so that the Al-Assad regime can bomb as ferociously and indiscriminately as it wants and kill as many civilians as it wants. That defies the principles governing the laws of war. The Al-Assad regime should not be allowed to bomb and starve its own people into submission under the guise of counter-terrorism. That Russian argument makes a mockery of the Council and of international law. Russia also accuses the United States of somehow being responsible for humanitarian crises in Syria, but such accusations are ludicrous. The United States does not block humanitarian aid in any area. In fact, the United States has provided more than $7 billion in humanitarian aid in response to the crisis. The Council must not fall for Russia's misdirections. When the ceasefire was adopted unanimously on Saturday, including by the Russians, Ambassador Haley stated that our resolve to stand by our demands in the resolution would be tested. It has come to pass. Despite everything that has happened since Saturday, we are not casting aside the ceasefire in Syria; just the opposite. We would like to redouble our efforts in the Security Council to implement it, but the only way to change the situation on the ground is for all of us — every single one of us — around the table and each State Member of the United Nations to speak the truth about what is happening. The past four days should show us that when it comes to demanding a ceasefire, it is not enough to say that all parties should show restraint or commit to the ceasefire because in eastern Ghouta there is only one party dropping barrel bombs, gassing the Syrian people and denying deliveries of food and medical assistance. It is the Al-Assad regime, operating with the full support of Russia and Iran. On Saturday we stated that the only way to restore the credibility of the Council was to make the ceasefire a reality. Russia, Iran and the Al-Assad regime have not complied with the Council's demands and have not silenced their guns. Unless we take action, they will stop at nothing to destroy eastern Ghouta and we will again fail to help the Syrian people. Mr. Van Oosterom (Netherlands): First, let me thank Under-Secretaries-General Lowcock and Feltman for their briefings. In my statement I will address three points: implementation, implementation and implementation. First, I will speak about the implementation of the cessation of hostilities. Since the Council adopted resolution 2401 (2018) on Saturday, civilians are still dying in eastern Ghouta and elsewhere in Syria. The humanitarian disaster continues worsen. We need a full, nationwide cessation of hostilities and we need it now. The Russian proposal for a humanitarian corridor and pauses of five hours per day cannot be a substitute for a humanitarian pause of 30 consecutive days, as demanded in resolution 2401 (2018). Those five hours do not meet the obligations under the resolution and are not enough for the United Nations to be effective in delivering aid to the entire area of Ghouta, as Under- Secretary-General Lowcock just stated. We call upon the parties to the conflict and on those with influence on the parties to show decisive action and stop the violence. As Under-Secretary- General Feltman stated, three armed opposition groups in eastern Ghouta have announced that they are committed to fully implementing resolution 2401 (2018). We expect the regime to do the same. The air strikes, the shelling and the shooting must stop. For the credibility of the Council, it is crucial that its resolutions be fully implemented. That is the obligation of all States Members of the United Nations, under the Charter. 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 11/22 The Kingdom of the Netherlands repeats the call made by the High Representative of the European Union for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, Federica Mogherini, to the Astana guarantors. She called on the Foreign Ministers of Russia, Iran and Turkey to "take all necessary steps to ensure that the fighting stops, the Syrian people are protected and that urgent humanitarian access and necessary medical evacuations are taking place". My second point is about the implementation of humanitarian access. Resolution 2401 (2018) calls for sieges of populated areas, including eastern Ghouta, to be lifted immediately, and demands safe, unimpeded and sustained access for humanitarian convoys. As Under-Secretary-General Lowcock just explained, the United Nations stands ready with 45 trucks to deliver essential aid to eastern Ghouta. But the necessary facilitation letters are still lacking, and the security conditions do not permit those deliveries. At this point, more than 1,000 people are in urgent need of medical care, but they are still trapped in eastern Ghouta. If they are not given the care they need in hospitals in Damascus or elsewhere, they may die. The United Nations and the Security Council have consistently pleaded for these medical evacuations, and yet there are still no developments with regard to them. We also need to see access to aid for those fleeing the fighting in Afrin. More generally, there should be delivery of humanitarian aid to the areas that are not under Government control. As Mr. Feltman just said, we should reach all who are in need, wherever they are. My third point is about implementing the protection of civilians. The exception on the cessation of hostilities in paragraph 2 of the resolution allows targeted action against terrorists who are designated as such by the Council. However, that does not mean that absolutely anything is allowed. International humanitarian law applies to all military combat operations and counter-terrorism actions. The principles of distinction, proportionality and precaution must be respected in all circumstances. The civilians in the conflict must be protected. There is talk of humanitarian corridors for civilians who want to leave eastern Ghouta, but evacuations should always be voluntary. We are concerned about the possibility that humanitarian corridors will be used for forced population transfers. Civilians cannot be forced to leave, and neither should they be forced to stay. If voluntary evacuations do take place, we will call on the United Nations to monitor them. Currently, the most urgent humanitarian situation is in eastern Ghouta and Idlib, but needs remain high elsewhere in Syria as well. We welcomed the January delivery of aid to Rukban, but we want to stress the importance of sustained access and a durable solution. As others have said today, the demining activities in Raqqa should be increased, and the Kingdom of the Netherlands is doing its part in that regard. The media coverage of the issue of the exploitation of Syrian women in exchange for aid is very disturbing. There should be no tolerance of such behaviour, as the Secretary-General and the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs have already said. The probity of any United Nations implementing parties should be beyond any doubt. In conclusion, we must ensure that resolution 2254 (2015) is fully implemented. There can be no military solution to the conflict, and we call on all the parties to engage seriously in the United Nations-led political process as a matter of urgency. The suffering of the people of Syria has lasted for more than seven years. For the sake of the millions of women, children and men trapped in this horrendous war, it is high time that all parties started putting the protection, interests and well-being of the Syrian people on the top of their agenda. Yesterday, my Minister, Ms. Sigrid Kaag, said that humanitarian access and the protection of civilians are cornerstones of international humanitarian law. They are part of our shared values and shared humanity. The Security Council must do justice to those values and to our shared humanity. Mr. Meza-Cuadra (Peru) (spoke in Spanish): We thank you for convening today's meeting, Mr. President, and for the briefings by Mr. Lowcock and Mr. Feltman on the situation in Syria. On Saturday, when we adopted resolution 2401 (2018) after long and complex negotiations, we highlighted the commitment that Council members have shown to achieving a humanitarian ceasefire in Syria. As we said at the time, it will be crucial to closely monitor its proper implementation and to maintain the Council's unity with regard to its responsibility to protect the civilian population, in line with international law and international humanitarian law. Four days in, we are still being forced to lament and condemn the attacks on civilians and to reiterate S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 12/22 18-05507 our calls for the immediate and comprehensive implementation of resolution 2401 (2018). As the Secretary-General has pointed out, Council resolutions make sense only if they are effectively implemented. The credibility of the Security Council as a whole, and of those of its members with the greatest potential influence on the ground in particular, is at stake. In the light of this, we want to emphasize that the cessation of hostilities that the Council has demanded clearly covers the whole of Syrian territory, including eastern Ghouta and Afrin, and should last for a minimum of 30 days. If we are to ensure that, in our view we should mobilize the International Syria Support Group's Ceasefire Task Force. It is essential to ensure that all the parties to the conflict comply with the ceasefire provided for in resolution 2401 (2018), and that the Council is able to closely monitor that compliance. In that regard, we support the four recommendations outlined by Sweden and Kuwait. We must remind the Syrian authorities of their responsibility to protect their people, and we firmly condemn the military operations in eastern Ghouta and other areas of the country that have continued even after the adoption of resolution 2401 (2018). However, we welcome the strenuous efforts of the Organization, and of the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs in particular, to prepare 45 trucks carrying supplies and ready to enter eastern Ghouta as soon as the necessary permits are granted. The first report on the implementation of resolution 2401 (2018) will be presented in less than two weeks, and we hope that it will be able to inform us that the humanitarian crisis caused by the Syrian conflict has been alleviated, because we cannot wait any longer. It is the Security Council's duty to continue working relentlessly to achieve what we have all unanimously agreed on. Ms. Wronecka (Poland): I very much appreciate today's clear and informative briefings by Mr. Lowcock and Mr. Feltman, and I would like to share a few thoughts from Poland's point of view. Since the Council's adoption on Saturday of resolution 2401 (2018), we have been seeing yet more extremely worrying developments on the ground. As I said in my last statement on the subject (see S/PV.8188), the heavy fighting in Syria has unfortunately not only continued but is increasing. In that context, we should persist in our efforts to take every possible action to ensure the resolution's full and safe implementation. We call on all to work to alleviate the suffering of civilians, including children, by giving them free and safe access to humanitarian assistance. That should include voluntary evacuation, which should be strictly overseen by the United Nations and its implementing partners and based solely on medical need, in order to ensure that the process is genuinely voluntary. We would like to stress that all the relevant actors should use all their influence to help to improve the conditions on the ground immediately. We urgently call for a cessation of hostilities throughout all of Syria for 30 days, as stipulated in resolution 2401 (2018). In that context, it is also important to note that the cessation of hostilities may also offer an opportunity for the talks being held under United Nations auspices in Geneva to gain momentum, so that a political solution can finally be reached. For that reason, we call on all parties to fulfil their commitments to the existing ceasefire agreements. It should be emphasized that the implementation of the ceasefire announced by resolution 2401 (2018) should ensure the safe entrance and stay of humanitarian and medical personnel without prejudice to their health or life. When such personnel enter hard-to-reach areas, we should know precisely how long they can stay while delivering assistance under the ceasefire, otherwise their lives could also be in danger. In conclusion, let me stress the importance of maintaining the unity of the Council on the question of the implementation of humanitarian resolutions. The unanimous adoption of the resolution is just the beginning of the process. We call on all actors with influence on the ground to take all steps necessary to ensure that the fighting stops, that the Syrian people are protected and, finally, that urgent humanitarian access is enabled and that the necessary medical evacuations can take place. Mr. Inchauste Jordán (Plurinational State of Bolivia) (spoke in Spanish): We thank Mr. Lowcock, Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs, and Mr. Jeffrey Feltman, Under-Secretary-General for Political Affairs, for their respective briefings. Once again, we would like to say how appalled we are at the terrible situation suffered by the Syrian people, as the past two months have been the most violent since the start of the conflict, and civilians, primarily women and children, are the ones that are suffering the gravest consequences of this intensification of the war. We call the attention of the Security Council to the continuing 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 13/22 violations of international law, especially international humanitarian law and international human rights law, as these attacks have targeted civilian infrastructure such as hospitals, schools and homes. My delegation would like to express once again its gratitude to the delegations of Sweden and Kuwait for their work in promoting the unanimous adoption of resolution 2401 (2018), which imposes a cessation of hostilities throughout Syria, which is as urgent as it is necessary. We urge the parties to implement the resolution immediately in order to speed up access of humanitarian assistance without any restrictions, allow urgent medical evacuations and the entry of humanitarian convoys, and ensure the protection of hospitals and medical facilities, especially in eastern Ghouta, Idlib and north of Hama. We wish to underscore once again the need for continued cooperation and coordination among the Syrian Government and the various humanitarian assistance agencies, so that the delivery of humanitarian assistance can be effective, especially in hard-to-reach areas, and to prevent administrative obstacles from derailing or negatively affecting the deployment of the required humanitarian assistance. We also stress the need to begin, as soon as possible, humanitarian mine-clearing in areas that require it, in particular in the city of Raqqa, to allow the return in dignified and safe conditions of people who were forced to flee their homes because of the conflict. As we have stated previously, we believe that if our aim is to alleviate the suffering of the Syrian people in the face of armed violence, the Security Council has the major challenge of maintaining its unity so as to ensure that this organ's decisions are implemented. We reiterate that the solution to this conflict can be found only through an inclusive political process based on dialogue and coordination, led by the Syrian people and for the Syrian people, that will make it possible to reach a peaceful solution among all parties involved. With this in mind, we wish to highlight the various forums for dialogue, specifically the Astana process, at which de-escalation zones were agreed on that must be respected by all parties. We will be closely following the next round of the process. We wish also to highlight the other opportunities for dialogue that could make it possible to reach further compromises to achieve a definitive end to hostilities, such as the Sochi national dialogue, which is aimed at strengthening the Geneva political process, with respect for the unity, sovereignty and territorial integrity of Syria and its right to choose its own political, economic and social system without any external pressure or interference. Mr. Tanoh-Boutchoue (Côte d'Ivoire) (spoke in French): Côte d'Ivoire thanks Mr. Jeffrey Feltman and Mr. Mark Lowcock for their respective briefings on recent developments in the situation in Syria following the adoption by the Security Council of resolution 2401 (2018), on the humanitarian situation in Syria. My delegation commends the Secretary-General for his unstinting efforts as part of the political dialogue among the Syrian parties with the aim of arriving at a lasting solution to the protracted crisis ravaging that country. In that regard, my country welcomes the holding of intra-Syrian peace talks on 25 and 26 January in Vienna in the framework of the Geneva process, followed by the talks held in Sochi on 29 and 30 January. My delegation cherishes the hope that the proposals stemming from the Sochi talks, including the establishment of a committee tasked with drawing up a new constitution, will receive consistent attention from the international community, as part of the concerted quest to find a lasting solution to the crisis in Syria. The situation on the ground is deeply alarming. Military operations that include the use of non-conventional weapons are leading to mass displacements of people, the loss of human lives, injuries and the destruction of public infrastructure, including hospitals and schools. The grave humanitarian crisis spawned by the fighting led to the adoption by the Security Council this past Saturday, 24 February, of resolution 2401 (2018), with a view to the cessation without delay of hostilities for a 30-day period to enable the delivery of humanitarian assistance to people in need as well as medical evacuations. My delegation notes with regret that the adoption of the resolution did not contribute to restoring calm on the ground. The ceasefire proposed was short-lived, despite the numerous appeals for a cessation of hostilities. Even the very minimum one called for by the Russian Federation, an ally of the Damascus Government, on Monday 26 February did not lead to a positive response. Air raids and rocket launches continue on the ground, thereby obstructing the work of humanitarian personnel. S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 14/22 18-05507 We deplore the ongoing loss of life among humanitarian workers — 22 United Nations personnel and 66 staff members or volunteers of the International Red Cross — and we deplore also the material damage that has been wrought, which includes the destruction of 25 vehicles and 44 facilities, according to the information we have received. Nonetheless, Côte d'Ivoire welcomes the fact that United Nations humanitarian agencies and their partners have managed to assist people in need by conducting 1,567 deliveries. My country reaffirms that a resolution of the crisis in Syria must be part of an inclusive dialogue and political process, as set out in the road map under resolution 2254 (2015). In that regard, my country calls for full compliance with the 30-day ceasefire, in accordance with resolution 2401 (2018), which will not only allow humanitarian actors to respond to critical emergencies but also create the conditions for a return to the negotiating table by all parties to the Syrian crisis. To that end, Côte d'Ivoire urges the members of the Security Council to unite and surmount their differences in order to send a message of hope and solidarity of the international community to the Syrian people. Mr. Ndong Mba (Equatorial Guinea) (spoke in Spanish): As usual, Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs Mark Lowcock and Under- Secretary-General for Political Affairs Jeffrey Feltman just gave us detailed briefings on the humanitarian and political situation in Syria. Those were the first briefings to be delivered to the Security Council following the unanimous adoption of resolution 2401 (2018), on 24 February. I take this opportunity to thank both Under-Secretaries-General, as well as to acknowledge the willingness of the United Nations and its partners to send convoys of trucks with the necessary humanitarian aid and begin medical evacuations as soon as conditions on the ground allow. As Secretary-General António Guterres said two days ago in his statement before the Human Rights Council, "Security Council resolutions are only meaningful if they are effectively implemented". The Republic of Equatorial Guinea hopes resolution 2401 (2018) is meaningful in that way in order to relieve the affected population of the suffering it has endured, especially in eastern Ghouta, that is, we hope for it to be immediately implemented. We want to reiterate that the Syrian conflict has no military solution. The opponents therefore must take a seat at the negotiating table to engage in direct and frank dialogue, without exclusions, however complicated it may be to do so. It must be the Syrians who determine the future they want for their country. The international community must redouble its efforts in making sure the opponents engage in negotiations, and the countries that have influence need to wield it to establish trust, with the ultimate goal of achieving lasting and just peace in Syria. We commend the intention expressed by the largest opposition groups — Jaysh Al-Islam, Faylaq Al-Rahman and Ahrar Al-Sham — to respect the ceasefire, and we invite all the other parties involved to take the same decision. The Republic of Equatorial Guinea believes that the only reason that the humanitarian situation remains of concern is because the opponents do not agree on negotiating to reach a peace agreement, which consequently causes more civilian victims, leads to the destruction of hospital facilities and hampers humanitarian aid operations. The conflict has recently intensified around the town of eastern Ghouta and some other parts of Syria, which has resulted in civilian casualties, the destruction of a considerable number of medical and relief facilities and the obstruction of humanitarian relief operations led by the United Nations. Equatorial Guinea is very touched and horrified by the critical situation the Syrian people are experiencing, and we must not show indifference to so much pain and suffering. It is therefore imperative that the parties to the conflict implement and uphold the relevant Security Council resolutions, especially the most recent, resolution 2401 (2018), including allowing access to humanitarian aid, halting hostilities and ultimately, cooperating with the United Nations in its efforts to assuage the conflict and make humanitarian operations effective by ensuring aid deliveries reach the affected populations and evacuating the sick and seriously injured so that they can receive the necessary medical care. The international community, while striving to help Syria, must not forget the neighbouring countries that have welcomed refugees and shown a spirit of solidarity worthy of praise. I would like to conclude my statement by expressing well-deserved tribute to the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs and all those who work with it on the ground for their bravery and determination in fulfilling their humanitarian mission to deliver aid to 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 15/22 those in need. We encourage them to persist in their noble efforts. Mr. Tumysh (Kazakhstan): I join others in thanking Under-Secretary-General Lowcock and Under- Secretary-General Feltman for their comprehensive and sobering briefings. Kazakhstan welcomed the unanimous adoption of resolution 2401 (2018). That document should be urgently implemented to ensure a comprehensive ceasefire in Syria. The ceasefire regime should be implemented fully, especially in the areas of eastern Ghouta, southern Idlib and northern Hama, to resolve their long-accumulated acute humanitarian problems, deliver aid to the most difficult regions and evacuate the wounded and sick. Turning to the situation on the ground in the country, according to our humanitarian colleagues, over the past 78 hours and to our deep regret, military operations continued to be reported in besieged eastern Ghouta, resulting in deaths, including women and children. Attacks on Damascus from eastern Ghouta are also continuing. To our great disappointment, a Syrian Arab Red Crescent warehouse in a Damascus suburb was reportedly struck by shelling. During the same period, attacks on the city of Damascus and the governorate resulted in 14 deaths and 214 injured. We are glad to know that the United Nations has mobilized and is ready to immediately support life-saving aid convoys in several areas in eastern Ghouta. We therefore call on the Council members and the wider United Nations membership to assist the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) in operationalizing the delivery of humanitarian assistance in eastern Ghouta, as well as in carrying out hundreds of medical evacuations. We echo the United Nations calls on all parties to facilitate unconditional, unimpeded and sustained access to all people in need throughout the country and take all measures to protect civilians and civilian infrastructure, including schools and medical facilities, as required by international law. It is equally important to ensure, in close coordination with OCHA, the protection of medical and humanitarian workers. We must also insist that parties support United Nation agencies in the fulfilment of their mandates. In that context, Kazakhstan proposes that all-round assistance be provided to the inter-Syrian negotiations through the Astana process and that positive developments be taken advantage of to improve the humanitarian situation. My country stands for a solution in Syria based on resolution 2254 (2015), the Geneva communiqué (S/2012/522, annex) and agreements on the de-escalation zones reached through the Astana process. We regret the lack of full agreement and close coordination among the key stakeholders in managing the Syrian crisis. We also attach great importance to strengthening the inter-Syrian political dialogue with greater support from the world community. Lastly, Kazakhstan notes the need to establish closer interaction among the leading stakeholders in Syria, in particular between the Russian Federation and the United States, to improve the political process and ensure positive changes on the humanitarian track. Mr. Wu Haitao (China) (spoke in Chinese): I would like to thank Under-Secretary-General Lowcock and Under-Secretary-General Feltman for their briefings. China commends the United Nations aid agencies for their humanitarian relief efforts in Syria. The security situation in various parts of Syria, including Damascus and eastern Ghouta, has escalated recently, causing significant civilian casualties. We sympathize profoundly with the suffering of the Syrian people and condemn all acts of violence against innocent civilians. The parties concerned should take immediate measures to de-escalate the tensions in line with the relevant Security Council resolutions. The Council's unanimous adoption of resolution 2401 (2018) demonstrates the consensus and unity of its members on the humanitarian issue in Syria. We appreciate the positive efforts of the parties concerned. China welcomed Russia's announcement by Russia that it will implement the ceasefire measures and assist with the evacuation of people from conflict areas. We call on the parties in Syria to put an immediate end to hostilities in accordance with the resolution, actively coordinate with United Nations relief efforts and ensure safe humanitarian corridors in the relevant areas. A political settlement is the only viable solution to the Syrian issue. The Syrian National Dialogue Congress was recently held successfully in Sochi and has had positive results. Special Envoy de Mistura is making ongoing efforts to advance the Syrian political process. The international community should support the Syrian parties in resuming dialogue and negotiations under the auspices of United Nations mediation as soon S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 16/22 18-05507 as possible and in seeking a solution that is acceptable to all parties through a Syrian-owned and -led political process. That is the only way to fundamentally ease the humanitarian situation in Syria and end the suffering of the Syrian people without delay. Terrorist organizations are still launching attacks in Syria, causing significant civilian casualties and impeding United Nations humanitarian relief efforts. The international community should strengthen its cooperation on counter-terrorism, adopt unified standards and resolutely combat all terrorist organizations that are designated as such by the Security Council. Ms. Guadey (Ethiopia): We thank Under-Secretary- General Mark Lowcock and Under-Secretary-General Jeffrey Feltman for their comprehensive briefings. We would like to express our gratitude to the United Nations and its humanitarian partners for their continuing efforts to provide humanitarian assistance to millions of Syrians. As Mr. Lowcock said, the humanitarian crisis in Syria continues to be a devastating one. Military activities in various parts of the country, including eastern Ghouta, have affected the ability of the United Nations to deliver lifesaving assistance to all in need. As the report of the Secretary- General (S/2018/138) says, the conflict and other obstacles have had a disastrous effect on the level of humanitarian access. In order to address those challenges and to alleviate the Syrians' suffering, the Security Council unanimously adopted resolution 2401 (2018), demanding the institution without delay of a cessation of hostilities for at least 30 consecutive days throughout Syria so as to ensure the safe, unimpeded and sustained delivery of humanitarian aid and services and medical evacuations. As we all emphasized on Saturday after welcoming the resolution's adoption (see S/PV.8186), what is now required is its full and comprehensive implementation with the immediate engagement of all parties and those with influence on them. Of course, we understand and appreciate the fact that the United Nations is ready to provide immediate humanitarian aid across the country. However, as Mr. Lowcock just highlighted, there are still military activities in various areas. In that regard, we call on all the parties to fully implement resolution 2401 (2018) for the sake of the Syrian people, who have continued to bear the brunt of the conflict for almost eight years. We appreciate any measure taken by Member States to facilitate the implementation of the ceasefire, including the humanitarian pause and humanitarian corridor announced by the Russian Federation. At the same time, it is obvious that more needs to be done to fully implement the resolution. It is therefore imperative to take urgent and coordinated action to bring about an immediate ceasefire, thereby ensuring that the United Nations and its humanitarian partners have safe, sustained and needs-based access in order to deliver humanitarian aid to all Syrians in need of assistance. In conclusion, it is ultimately a comprehensive, Syrian-led political solution, facilitated by the United Nations on the basis of resolution 2254 (2015), that can sustainably end the humanitarian tragedy in Syria. Mr. Nebenzia (Russian Federation) (spoke in Russian): We thank Under-Secretary-General Lowcock and Under-Secretary-General Feltman for their briefings. By the way, at the outset I would like to take advantage of this opportunity to ask Mr. Lowcock where the United Nations is getting its evidence and data on deaths in Damascus, for instance. According to the Syrian authorities' information, for example, just since 22 January, 12 people have died in Damascus, while the United Nations figure is 11 for the whole month. Where is he getting his information from? The White Helmets, maybe? Today, as has been usual recently, the United States delegation devoted its statement to Russia. It told us that it knew what we were going to say today, which it does not. And I am pleased about that, because it means that it did not see our statement before the meeting began. On 24 January, the Security Council unanimously adopted resolution 2401 (2018), in an important decision aimed at improving the humanitarian situation in Syria, especially in areas where the danger of military clashes remains or there are obstacles of one kind or another to the civilian population's access to essential assistance. Today many questions have been asked — emphatic questions, rhetorical questions, questions aimed directly at us. We answered the questions asked of us during our discussion at the adoption of resolution 2401 (2018). There are a lot of people here who like to pick citations from the resolution that they like and forget the ones that do not suit them. If I may, I will quote two extracts from it, from paragraph 1 and paragraph 10. 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 17/22 (spoke in English) "Demands that all parties cease hostilities without delay, and engage immediately to ensure full and comprehensive implementation of this demand by all parties, for a durable humanitarian pause for at least 30 consecutive days throughout Syria, to enable the safe, unimpeded and sustained delivery of humanitarian aid and … medical evacuations". "[U]nderscores the need for the parties to agree on humanitarian pauses, days of tranquillity, localized ceasefires and truces to allow humanitarian agencies safe and unhindered access to all affected areas in Syria". (spoke in Russian) Has everyone read the resolution? We have said, and we will say it again, that any sustained pause must be preceded by an agreement between the parties on de-escalation. The demands that military activity end overnight are either the result of a misunderstanding of the realities or a deliberate exploitation of this human tragedy. The statement by the United States delegation simply rewrote resolution 2401 (2018). What sort of joint effort, such as the Permanent Representative of France called for today, can we talk about in these circumstances after what we heard today in the United States delegation's statement? Russia has announced the establishment in eastern Ghouta of daily five-hour humanitarian pauses. Everything possible is being done to ensure that they function successfully. Specifically, medical and temporary accommodation posts have been equipped, ambulance teams organized, motor transport provided. We call on the United Nations, the International Committee of the Red Cross and other recognized humanitarian organizations to join these efforts. However, on the very first day, the militias took advantage of the announcement of the pause to go on the offensive. The same thing happened on the second day. The mortar shelling continued, including in the humanitarian operations corridors. Not a single person was able to leave the danger area. We took note of the relevant letters submitted on behalf of the illegal armed groups. We were told previously that the most convenient way of informing Council members about them was being sought. It has been found and it is indeed highly original — directly through the work e-mail addresses of all the political coordinators, meaning that someone deliberately sent the relevant contact information to dubious individuals from the ranks of the radical Syrian opposition. It is very similar to the situation that occurred when information about the closed negotiations on humanitarian resolutions became available to Western media agencies. However, we hope that the opposition leaders are serious and that their deeds will match their words. We are expecting clear guarantees in that regard from the militias' foreign sponsors, many of whom are seated around this table. The first thing that is needed is a definitive repudiation of the terrorist organizations. It has to be understood that terrorists continue to be a legitimate target of military operations, and we will not stand on ceremony with them. Overall, we have to decide on the most effective way to neutralize Jabhat Al-Nusra in eastern Ghouta. Why can't some members show a willingness to cooperate on that issue? Or do they not want to? The information background to this issue is overheated to the point of no return. If we had not adopted resolution 2401 (2018), it is difficult even to imagine what the Western media outlets would have made of it or how they would have portrayed Russia. But even now, when the resolution has been adopted, our Western partners act as if everything in it pertains solely to Damascus and Russia, and that its successful implementation depends almost entirely on the will of our two countries, while they, the self-styled champions of humanity, somehow imagine that they have an exclusive right to lecture us on the subject. In various media outlets, especially American ones, there have been false allegations that we mock the tragedy of this war and the situation in eastern Ghouta, and that we say that the campaign is exaggerated and fake. I will ask these humanistic gentlemen once again: Where were they when American aircraft blew Raqqa off the face of the Earth? Where were the cries and the hand-wringing? Months have passed since the terrorists were banished from that city and yet it is still uninhabitable. On top of that, there are new reports of 24 civilian casualties from Coalition air strikes in Deir ez-Zor province. Who are they — second-class citizens? Or when innocent people die from democratic bombs, is that somehow immaterial — perhaps even honourable? We urge the United Nations — in fact, we insist — to send an assessment mission to Raqqa as soon as possible, and that the Coalition, which is in de facto control of the area, give it all necessary support. We also expect that instead of establishing quasi- S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 18/22 18-05507 administrations in areas liberated from the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant, the Coalition leadership will come up with a plan to turn them over to the central authorities, in consideration of the Security Council's repeated affirmations of Syria's sovereignty and territorial integrity. That would be a great deal more constructive than the relentless quest to find what is a non-existent basis in international law for maintaining its presence on Syrian territory. If Council members have interesting ideas on how to raise the profile of local Government and find effective ways to rebuild the ethnic and religious balance that existed before the war, they should present them to the Syrians in the negotiations in Geneva and let them decide the issues for themselves through the mediation of the United Nations. We also demand that the Coalition open humanitarian access to the territory it is occupying around the Al-Tanf military base in order to bring aid to the residents of the Rukban camp as soon as possible. By the way, that is also a provision of resolution 2401 (2018). It is not for nothing that we keep saying that what is going on is painfully reminiscent of the situation in eastern Aleppo when the West unleashed a wave of monstrous anti-Russian hysteria. We are the only country being asked to implement resolution 2401 (2018). We are being criticized for instituting humanitarian pauses. Some claim that there are not enough of them. Demands, demands, demands. For some reason, someone is always bossily demanding something of Russia. Britain's Foreign Secretary has altogether decided that he is the prosecutor who is threatening to punish our country. Apparently, he called for today's meeting to be convened. He said so himself. The Russian Centre for Reconciliation of Opposing Sides in the Syrian Arab Republic is making daily and hourly efforts to achieve a cessation of hostilities, establish humanitarian pauses and ease the suffering of civilians. May I ask what other members have done to implement resolution 2401 (2018)? Has even one of their countries lifted a finger? Have they brought their influence to bear on those whom they consider the moderate opposition? Have they persuaded them to lay down their weapons and stop taking hostages? The hugely complex issue that the Syrian conflict represents is being used for unscrupulous purposes. The rivers of tears roll down only when the next stronghold where militias and terrorists mingle is threatened, at which point an unheard-of level of action kicks in. The real aim is the regime, as some members like to refer to the lawful Syrian authorities. Any hint of its success in fighting terrorism on its own territory is a thorn in their side. They are ready to use any means to stop it. This is a warning. We know about the chemical evidence being fabricated in order to blame Damascus. We know about the meetings on the subject, where they are being held and who is taking part in them. Today we once again heard unsubstantiated allegations about the Syrian Government's use of chemical weapons. I am tired of asking if members understand the futility of Damascus using chemical weapons from both a military and a political point of view, and the completely believable probability of militias using chemical provocations. I think they do understand it perfectly, but they persist in seeking an excuse for military intervention. United States officials, and the head of the Foreign Office and others, have already talked about military strikes against Syria, and it is obvious where that intellectual activity is heading. We urge everyone to stop the dirty tricks and join the concerted efforts to alleviate the humanitarian situation in Syria by implementing the resolution we have just adopted. We hope that the United Nations generally and Mr. Lowcock personally, as Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs and Emergency Relief Coordinator, will rise to the occasion. We have circulated a draft presidential statement on the resolution's implementation. We have placed it under the silence procedure until 1 p.m., and we call on the Council to adopt it. We hope that there will be no objections before one o'clock. I will take the liberty of reading it out. (spoke in English) The Security Council, with reference to its resolution 2401 (2018), urges all parties to implement it and, to this end, further urges all armed groups and all Member States with influence on them to ensure the safety of the announced humanitarian corridors for evacuation from eastern Ghouta. The Security Council calls for the establishment of similar humanitarian corridors in Al-Tanf and Rukban. The Security Council requests the Secretary-General to expeditiously send a mission to Raqqa to assess humanitarian needs there. 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 19/22 (spoke in Russian) And by the way, we, like the other members of the Security Council, believe that there can only be a political solution to the Syrian conflict. We are doing everything we can to achieve that, and certainly somewhat more than those who have been spreading fire and fury today. We propose, as we have always proposed, that they join in these efforts, rather than throw up road blocks in an attempt to serve their own geopolitical agendas. The President (spoke in Arabic): I shall now make a statement in my national capacity. First of all, the delegation of Kuwait aligns itself to the statement made by the representative of Sweden on behalf of our two countries as co-penholders on the issue of Syria. We thank Mr. Mark Lowcock, Under- Secretary General for Humanitarian Affairs, and Mr. Jeffrey Feltman, Under-Secretary-General for Political Affairs, for their briefings. Four days after the adoption of resolution 2401 (2018), which demands that all parties cease hostilities throughout Syrian territory for 30 days, I would like to make the following points. We have said from the outset that resolution 2401 (2018) is only the first step towards improving the humanitarian situation in Syria. However, to date we have not seen the implementation of the provisions of the resolution — not even a partial implementation — as we heard from Mr. Lowcock this morning, in particular in eastern Ghouta. The Council demonstrated unity in adopting the resolution and it is up to us now to ensure that all its provisions are implemented in full and immediately in order to alleviate the suffering of our brethren in Syria and to protect civilians. The resolution is binding on all, in accordance with Article 25 of the Charter of the United Nations. Secondly, we welcome the fact that the United Nations is ready to come to eastern Ghouta and other besieged areas so as to deliver all kinds of aid and assistance to those that need them. We call on all the parties to the conflict in Syria to uphold international humanitarian law and abide by the provisions of the resolution, which cover all the various aspects that are causing the daily suffering of the Syrian people. Thirdly, we underscore the importance of members of the Council making their contribution by spurring all the parties to the conflict in Syria to immediately implement the provisions of resolution 2401 (2018), keeping in mind that, as co-penholders, we are committed to closely follow its implementation, including ensuring a briefing by the Secretariat 15 days after the adoption of the resolution. I now resume my functions as President of the Council. In accordance with to rule 37 of the Council's provisional rules of procedure, I invite the representative of the Syrian Arab Republic to participate in this meeting. I now give the floor to the representative of the Syrian Arab Republic. Mr. Ja'afari (Syrian Arab Republic) (spoke in Arabic): The Syrian Government has examined the forty-eighth monthly report of the Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs, and, yesterday morning, as usual, we sent a formal letter to the Secretary-General and to the President of the Security Council setting forth the position of the Syrian Government on the report. We are realistic. We know well that the United Nations is not a charitable organization. That is clear given that it has been unable to implement the principles of the Charter and international law since its inception — and the Palestinian question is a case in point. There have been other failures by the United Nations: in Iraq, Libya, the former Yugoslavia, Grenada — for those who have forgotten Grenada — Nicaragua, and the list goes on. However, I hope we can preserve the United Nations as an organization even as it continues to lack charitability. I would now like to make the following points. First, the Syrian Government is fully committed to the principles of international law and international humanitarian law, as well as Syrian law and the Syrian Constitution, all of which stipulate that the Syrian Government has the responsibility to ensure the safety and security of Syrian citizens and protect them from terrorist groups. Secondly, the current report, just like previous reports, has a great flaw, namely, that the authors of the report continue to rely on politicized sources, open sources and unreliable figures. At the same time, the report continues to ignore credible Government sources and even the reports issued by the representatives of the United Nations in Syria. Those representatives, along with the reports they have submitted to the United Nations in New York, acknowledge the efforts S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 20/22 18-05507 of the Syrian Government and its cooperation on the humanitarian issue. However, none of this information that reaches New York appears to be mentioned in the report, as if by miracle. Thirdly, the Syrian Government condemns the authors of the report — the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights and the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs — especially after the adoption of resolution 2401 (2018), for their failure to mention the Turkish aggression against the Syrian city of Afrin. That aggression has claimed the lives of many people, including women and children, destroyed public and private facilities and has led to the displacement of the city's inhabitants and a severe shortage of humanitarian goods. However, Afrin is not eastern Ghouta, eastern Aleppo, Fo'ah or Kefreya. Fourthly, the Syrian Government fully rejects the failure of the authors of the report to mention the catastrophic impact of the so-called International Coalition and its members. The Coalition, which has claimed the lives of hundreds of civilians and members of the Syrian forces who are fighting Da'esh, committed two new massacres yesterday that claimed the lives of 29 civilians and injured dozens, most of them women and children, in the villages of Sha'fa and Thahret Allouni in eastern Deir ez-Zor. It appears that the International Coalition is focused on this part of eastern Deir ez-Zor because it is home to civilians who do not host Da'esh or Al-Nusra Front terrorists. The Coalition has also destroyed the city of Raqqa, as my colleague the representative of the Russian Federation just noted. My Government calls once again for dismantling this illegitimate aggressive Coalition and for an immediately stop to its crimes against the Syrian people. The Russian military issued a communiqué today saying that the areas under the control of the allies and agents of the United States in Syria are witnessing the worst humanitarian crisis currently in the country. Those areas have become black holes, just like the black holes in outer space. With regard to the situation in eastern Ghouta, the Syrian Government believes that the current deterioration in the situation is due to the fact that terrorist groups there have launched attacks against residential zones and military targets. Up until yesterday, they had launched more than 2,180 missiles and mortars against the city of Damascus. Those attacks claimed the lives of 66 civilians and injured 474 others. Government forces have been forced to respond to those attacks and to carry out their constitutional responsibility in guaranteeing security and safety for the citizens. My Government condemns the use, by the authors of the report, of the term "besieged areas" when considering the situation in eastern Ghouta, in rural Damascus. Under pressure from influential countries in and outside of the Council, they continue to deliberately ignore the fact that people in eastern Ghouta are besieged from within by the various armed terrorist organizations operating there. Those terrorist organizations are exploiting civilians and using them as human shields. They are seizing and monopolizing humanitarian assistance, distributing the aid to their supporters or selling it at exorbitant prices, as was the case in eastern Aleppo. Syria regrets the failure of the authors of the report to refer to the suffering of thousands of kidnapped people who are in eastern Ghouta prisons and other places where the terrorist groups are spread. The kidnapped people include women, children and elderly. These people were kidnapped from their homes and places of work and have been subjected to the worst forms of torture. There are civilians, including from city of Adra and from Latakia, who were kidnapped from their homes five years ago. The Syrian Government also condemns the statements by the Secretariat and reports of the Secretary-General, which continue up till now to disregard the suffering of 8 million civilians in the capital Damascus as a result of hundreds of missiles and mortars launched daily from terrorist groups within eastern Ghouta. The accusations by the authors of the report, like those of the Western countries that have influence on them, that the Syrian Government is allegedly besieging Ghouta have been consistently refuted. They have proven to be unfounded, as we have seen in recent reports noting that the Saudi regime provided "aid" to eastern Ghouta in February. That proves, first, that eastern Ghouta is not besieged and, secondly, that it is possible to access it. In particular, the terrorist groups in Ghouta continue to receive arms and munitions from Governments that support terrorism, including Saudi Arabia's so-called humanitarian assistance. The Syrian Government is more committed than anyone to protecting its citizens across Syria. In that 28/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8195 18-05507 21/22 regard, it has taken all necessary measures to protect its citizens and to respond to the attacks of terrorist groups in eastern Ghouta. We have sought to protect these civilians from the terrorists by establishing a humanitarian corridor to ensure their exit from eastern Ghouta. We announced the humanitarian corridor only hours after the adoption of resolution 2401 (2018) in order to ensure the safety of civilians — in cooperation with our Russian friends and allies. We have provided them with shelter, food, medicine and medical care at the expense of the Syrian Government, not the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs. The Syrian Government has also called on members of the armed groups to lay down their weapons, cease their terrorist activities inside residential areas and engage in national reconciliation efforts. However, those terrorist groups, including the Al-Nusra Front, Jaysh al-Islam and Faylak ar-Rahman, have forcibly prevented civilians from reaching the corridor, as some members of the Council may know. They also sought to target the humanitarian corridor after it was announced, through the use of mortars. As for the letter sent by the terrorist Mohamed Alloush, it is a clear indication that he rejects the exit of civilians from Ghouta. It is clear that he wants to use them as human shields. There seems to be a new trend in the United Nations to circulate a letter from a terrorist group as an official document. That is an innovation at the United Nations. There is no respect for the Member States concerned. We have followed closely the way resolution 2401 (2018) was adopted and today's statements and briefings. We can clearly say that the main goal behind the adoption of the resolution is neither to reach a clear truce or ceasefire, as some may claim, nor to protect civilians and meet their needs. The main goal was to use the Security Council once again as a means to prevent any progress by the Syrian army and its allies in the fight against the terrorist groups that are targeting the city of Damascus. I say that for the thousandth time. How else to explain the fact that the resolution fails to refer to any Council resolution on counter-terrorism? Who can explain to us the strong resistance of some States during the negotiations on the draft resolution to any text that excludes Da'esh, the Al-Nusra Front and the terrorist groups affiliated with them from the supposed ceasefire? For three days, the Council has continued to negotiate the issue of whether to include or exclude them. The false humanitarian propaganda on the situation in eastern Ghouta coincided with another campaign under the supervision of the United States, claiming the use of chemical weapons again in Syria, in areas under the exclusive control of terrorists or, I should say, the White Helmets. Today, The New York Times published a Tin-Tin style, childish report claiming that there is cooperation on the chemical issue between my country and the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. The article is a full-page report on the front page of The New York Times. It seeks to tarnish the image of the Syrian Government and the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. It ends by saying that this information is not substantiated. "Though experts who viewed the report said the evidence it cited did not prove definitively that there was current, continuing collaboration between North Korea and Syria on chemical weapons." That is a word-for-word quote from The New York Times. It seems that The New York Times is not up to date on what is going on in the world. It seems that the New York Times does not know that the American vessel, the MV Cape Ray, destroyed the chemical arsenal voluntarily submitted by the Syrian Government after joining the Chemical Weapons Convention and the Organization for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons (OPCW), as a full member. That is old information, déjà vu, as is said in French. However, it seems that The New York Times has decided to address this issue today. I will read a communiqué that we received just now of information that I think should be taken into consideration when addressing the issue of the use of chemical weapons in Syria. And I can tell the Council that terrorists will use chemical weapons in Syria. On the morning of 20 February, four days ago, three Turkish trucks carrying chlorine entered Idlib governorate through the Bab Al-Hawa crossing. I think that The New York Times should verify that information. Two trucks stopped in the village of Qalb Loze in Idlib, and the third continued its way to Al-Habit village in northern Idlib. Information available to the Syrian Government points to the fact that terrorists are currently preparing for a chemical weapon using the substance of chlorine on a large scale and to then accuse the Syrian Arab Army of using such weapons. Those terrorists have clear instructions from Western and Turkish intelligence to fabricate a chemical attack before 13 March, because S/PV.8195 The situation in the Middle East 28/02/2018 22/22 18-05507 it is on that date that the eighty-seventh session of the Executive Council of the OPCW will be held. According to the information I received just now, the two trucks are currently in the school of Qalb Loze village. Other cars and terrorists are also currently in the school, which they have turned into a warehouse for chemical weapons. As for the third truck, it is currently in a centre belonging to the Hay'at Tahrir Al-Sham, which is a Turkish agent, in the north-eastern part of Al-Habit village. A vast number of terrorists are currently unloading the truck there. In providing the Security Council with this information, we affirm that these terrorists, at the instructions of their operators, will use these chemical weapons before 13 March. The main responsibility for ending hostilities lies with those countries that have real influence with terrorist groups in Ghouta and other parts of Syria. They should compel these terrorist groups to stop their terrorist activities and allow civilians to leave those areas, which are used by these groups as a base to launch their terrorist attacks. There is in this Organization a group of five countries that are shedding tears over the humanitarian situation in Syria. Unfortunately, some of them are members of the Council. They have invited Member States to watch a movie about the White Helmets, two days from now in the Economic and Social Council Chamber here at the United Nations. Some members of the Council are advocating for a group that has been designated as a terrorist group by the Council. I hope that the Council will address the information I have provided seriously and appropriately. The President (spoke in Arabic): As this is the last scheduled meeting of the Council for the month of February, I would like to express the sincere appreciation of the delegation of Kuwait to the members of the Security Council, especially my colleagues the Permanent Representatives, their respective staff and to the secretariat of the Council for all the support they have given to us. Indeed, February has been a busy month, and one in which we rallied to consensus on several important issues within our purview. We could not have done it alone or without the hard work, support and positive contributions of all the delegations and the representatives of the Secretariat, as well as all the relevant conference service officers, interpreters, translators and security staff. As we end our presidency, I know I speak on behalf of the Council in wishing the delegation of the Netherlands good luck in the month of March. I now invite Council members to informal consultations to continue our discussion on the subject. The meeting rose at 12.45 p.m.

Transcript of an oral history interview with Reinhard M. Lotz, conducted by Sarah Yahm at Norwich University in Northfield, Vermont, on 10 April 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Reinhard Lotz graduated from Norwich University in 1960; the bulk of the interview focuses on his subsequent military career in the U.S. Army. ; 1 Reinhard M. Lotz, NU 1960, Oral History Interview April 10, 2015 Sullivan Museum and History Center Interviewed by Sarah Yahm SARAH YAHM: Could you introduce yourself on tape? RON LOTZ: Yeah, my name's Reynard M. Lotz, they call me Ron. And I'm living in St. Louis, Missouri at the time. I had 30 years in the army and retired in 1990. So that means I'm the class of 1960. So again, it means that I'm in my 77th year. SY: Seventy seventh year, congratulations. So where were you born? RL: I was born in Jamestown, New York in 1938. SY: Where is Jamestown? RL: Jamestown is a town that I spent about four months in and then I really grew up in Waterbury, Connecticut. That was an industrial town, blue collar town, brass center of the world during the 19 -- actually up until after the war, until the 1950s. I can remember World War II and the blackouts. I can remember going by the factories that used to run 24 hours a day seven days a week and all the machines click clacking away. And they were making shell casings and that for the war effort. SY: And what were your parents doing during the war? RL: Well my mother was a stay at home mom. I had a sister. And my father ran the F.W. Woolworth Company, five and ten cent store there in town. And so when I was growing up I started working for my father when I was eight years old. And my father would pay me out of his own pocket. SY: Really? RL: Yeah, just because I wanted to earn some money and then I also did things like wash cars for 50 cents and mow lawns for 50 cents. So I was an entrepreneur. SY: I was just going to say, you were a little entrepreneur. Excellent and so when you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? RL: You know it's a funny thing, I had some likes, but I never knew I would follow those. But I love military history. I love to read. And when I was at a very young age, I took my mother's library card and went into the adult section and got books to read. SY: You were one of those -- hold up, I got to close that door because of the sound of the vacuum is much louder on tape. RL: I understand.2 SY: Hey there. F2: Hello. SY: I'm doing interviews and the vacuuming is super loud. Do you know who's vacuuming and why? F2: No idea, but (inaudible) [00:02:31]. SY: OK, well I'll see you tomorrow. We'll just have to deal with the vacuuming. OK so you took the library card and you went -- RL: Into the adult section and got books and read them. I was one of those kids that loved to read and military history was one of my passions you might say. SY: I ask this to everybody actually, did you play war as a kid? RL: Yes, in the sandbox outside my back door. We had a sandbox. And I had plastic soldiers from that timeframe and I used to dig caves and castles and machine gun pits and the whole bit. SY: And was it World War II in your mind, was it World War I, was it the Civil War, was it the Revolutionary War. RL: Well it was World War II because I grew up in that timeframe and that was the thing that was most prevalent at the time. And during that time, you're going to grammar school, if you turned in newspaper and depending on how many bundles, et cetera, et cetera, you get stripes. I don't know if they call that PTA or whatever but there was an emblem you could put on your sleeve on your jacket with stripes on it depending on how much you collected and contributed to the war effort. SY: Interesting. Wow, OK, so the war was very much a part of your childhood. So how did you end up deciding to go to Norwich? RL: Well I went to a prep school, Mount Hermon, which was in Massachusetts, northern Massachusetts. But it was a prep school that part of your tuition was paid with working eight hours a week. And so when I went there I started off in the farm working with dairy cows. And then my second year I was groundskeeper and my third year building cleaning. And the epitome of my career at prep school was that I was a waiter in the dining facility which gave you a lot more free time and you became the friend of a lot of people who liked to sit at your table because you would make sure that you were in the kitchen, the first to get the food, et cetera, et cetera, and they always had second helpings. So I was at Mount Hermon and I applied to three colleges. One I was put on a waiting list, one I was rejected, and the other was Norwich University. Now I was a C+ student. So -- SY: Even with all that reading?3 RL: Oh with all that reading. My reading skills were far superior to my age, but the point being is that I came to Norwich and there was a lieutenant colonel -- no, he wasn't a lieutenant colonel, he was a first sergeant or sergeant major at that time. He was lieutenant colonel my freshman year. But he took me around the school and so impressed me with his attitude towards the school plus also how he treated me as a person that when I left I told my parents that's where I wanted to go. Now you have to realize too at that time all of us had to have a military obligation. Either you went in for six months, then the reserve or you went for two years active duty and that. So we were going to have to go into the military anyway and I loved military history. And when I came to Norwich University I just kind of fit in you might say. SY: Yeah, so what was your experience like as a rook? A lot of people have described a harsh awakening at that moment. Were you prepared? RL: I guess since I've been away to prep school and been away from home and that that I was able to adapt a lot easier maybe than those who had not been. I took it all with a grain of salt. I said these are things you're going to have to put up with so keep your mouth shut and grin and bear it. SY: Now were there some kids -- I know there were a lot of kids who washed out, it was like 51% or something in your class. Dick did the math. He told me. But do you remember, were there kids who got targeted? Do you remember hazing or was it mostly just like this is just something we need to get through, this is an elaborate game? RL: I think that there's always a certain amount of hazing. Hazing not in a real rough or negative sense, but hazing in the sense that maybe one guy or several people just maybe don't fit the mold so therefore they might get a little bit more of harassment than you did. Or maybe that you have adapted and try to do what the cadet is telling you to do, therefore the heat's off you. And we always used to try to help those cadets or rooks who were having a tough time. Heck, we helped polish their shoes. We made sure their uniforms were pressed. Some kids just weren't capable of accomplishing all that. And then you have to say too, I think today at Norwich the qualifications academically and everything have improved a great deal. Now you have SATs and ACT scores. Back in those days, it was based upon submission and also the recommendation from your teachers and of course your grades. But Norwich is a totally different school today versus back in the 1950s. SY: Yeah, but that's interesting. So you do remember helping kids out. RL: Oh yeah, absolutely. And some of the rooks harassed the rooks. I mean it wasn't just upper classmen. But it was sometimes -- it's a predator type of atmosphere and I think it's human nature. You just have to be careful of that and aware of it and make sure that it doesn't happen if you can do something to stop it, you see. SY: Yeah, and that's always the question is how do you keep it from crossing that line. RL: That's right. And it's how strong a person you are. If you're a very strong person with morals and with firm beliefs, then you try to do something to change that, but it's the 4 method in which you change that that's the key. If you're abrasive or in your face or something, the person that you're talking to or trying to get something changed, it's not going to work. You have to be able to balance it out and approach it in the right way in order to get results. And I learned this at Norwich. I used that all through my army career, is to approach something -- always treat the other person like you would like to be treated yourself. When you had a problem with a person, you sometimes had to be tough and some outright terminate his career or whatever, but it sometimes had to be done. It's not the fact that you wanted to do it, but the fact is that they broke the rules and there's nothing that you're going to repair it. You've had it. SY: Do you remember any moments at Norwich when you learned that lesson, any of those like difficult leadership dilemmas? It was a long time ago. RL: Well it's that I remember the good days. I remember one rook who he was never going to make it at Norwich because his intellect was to the point where you would say that it was at a level that was not college level, let me put it that way. Yet we tried to prep him for exams and things like that and we tried but he was finally eliminated because of his academics and he just couldn't do what had to be done. SY: It was almost cruel to keep him in the system. What part of the highs that you remember from your time in Norwich? RL: The comradery. SY: Had you experienced that before at boarding school? RL: No, I don't have friends -- my boarding school was something that I survived it. Academic-wise and everything else, it was a challenge for me. I was actually in a school that I was doing college work and so that prepared me though for Norwich because when I came to Norwich I was fully prepared to face the academics and know how to handle all that. So I got to say, that's a big plus. But when I got to Norwich, my relationships with the school and the profs and everything else, I remember the PMSNT, I remember those people who worked in the PMSNT office. I remember Major Pekoraro who was the engineer major there. And I was a business major but I joined the engineer society because of this major because he was a Korean War veteran who was a POW. And he was a role model. He was tough but just and just the type of person you felt you'd like to be around and learn from. There was a guy named Hardy who was a captain. And I think he had a relative or a brother or something that was going to Norwich at the time and he was an armored guy and he was a friendly, nice person. And then there was -- and some of the names here, I can't -- there was a lieutenant colonel there who also was a very role model. These guys were role models. The PMSNT was the tough guy, didn't have much association with him. But at Norwich I learned, because of our social life with our fraternities and things like that, it gave us an outlet and we had a closer relationship. And I think the class of 1960 has done amazingly well keeping abreast of each other and I've lost in the past year several of my classmates of whom I talked to before they passed on, just several days before they passed on, from the point that I wanted to say goodbye. It's a tough thing to do. You have to realize now that I'm on a 5 shortlist and those guys were important. And I think our class is like that. But Norwich has been a great influence on me because it gave me the opportunity for the leadership positions, I was a cadre member every year. My senior year I was -- we had the freshman battalion at that time and I was made the executive officer in charge of all the academics for all the freshmen. So I had to have academic boards. And we met on those with records of those cadets who were not achieving the standard that needed to be to graduate. So we would review their records and then recommended action, help, tutoring, or whatever it needed to try to get that kid back on track to get the rook, get them through that first year. SY: Do you think that type of dedication to the wellbeing of your rooks made you a better leader in the military later? RL: I think it did, but let me relate something that happened at summer camp. I was in the honor tank platoon and I also was -- SY: Hold on a second. It's like we're crossed here, it's like star crossed, you know what I mean. RL: I don't know if you can -- SY: I'm going to see if I can get Heather. (inaudible) [00:15:00] They're redoing the library. But it's like if somebody's talking in the hallway -- but they're right over there. She's going to ask. If she doesn't, we might just need to shell this as well into the back. RL: Are we going to have repeat all this again? SY: No, I can edit it together. But I want people to be able to listen to actual sound clips that don't involve listening to somebody -- RL: You can say that's combat. (laughter) You can hear the guns in the background, you know. SY: Exactly, this is so authentic that I took my recording all the way into whatever. Did Heather work her magic? I think she might've worked her -- RL: No, I don't think she's had time to -- and I don't think they're going to stop. They're on a time schedule and what's going to happen is they're going to just drive you nuts and have you do it. SY: You know this happens, they don't do work for days and I don't know their schedule and I can't ever get it. And then I'm like, "Great, they're done for a while." Then I bring someone in. This has happened to me like two or three times. RL: Well let me think. Want to try? SY: Yeah, let's keep talking.6 RL: If we can't maybe I can do something tomorrow, if I can. SY: Yeah, if you can you can pop by and if not, you're going to be back in October. RL: OK, we were talking about ROTC and summer camp. And I went to summer camp at Fort Knox -- thank you. SY: You're awesome. RL: And when I was there, we had two companies, A and B, and I was company A. And we had a lot of Norwich grads were there, plus VMI, plus Citadel, plus from all over, from all the ROTC units. And this was at Fort Knox. And there were two incidents that I remember vividly. One is that on a Saturday afternoon in 90 degree heat in my khaki uniform with an M1 on my shoulder, I was walking guard duty around the barracks that we lived in, World War II barracks. And the rest of the cadets were getting ready to go off because after twelve o'clock on Saturday they could go into town and do all that and I had the guard duty. I was on guard. And so I was walking around the barracks and one of the tac officers came up to me from Norwich and I reported to him and the general orders and the whole bit. And I was soaking wet. And he says, "Well how's it going?" And I turn to him and I said and I was facing him and I said, "Well sir I'm going to tell you that this has taught me one lesson, that I will never go into this man's army as a private." And he laughed. Well let me tell you, I was very serious about that. And then it came to where we were closing out and we were going to rate our contemporaries in the barracks and that. One of my classmates came up to me and said, "Ron," he says, "Don't you worry." He says, "Me and the boys are going to take care of you." And what he meant was that of all the Norwich guys and all the guys in that barracks that these guys had gotten together and rated me number one. SY: And why were you rated number one. RL: Because I think they liked me. You can't question that because you never are actively trying -- you're treating people the way you want to be treated. And you want to be a leader in the sense that you do the right thing at the right time and for the right reason. But when he came up and told me that and there were some pretty high powered Norwich guys in the cadet corps and they were going to be -- running the regiment that coming year. And so when it all came out there were two guys ranked top in armor ROTC summer camp. One was from VMI and one was from Norwich. It was me and one other guy. And so we went up head on head competition and the guy from VMI won out, which is fine because I went in there kind of naïve and I didn't know what to expect. But the point being was that I had the opportunity, Norwich had the opportunity, and Norwich did well at summer camp. And that was all that was important to me. So those things impacted on me and also the professors like Loring Hart who later became president of the university, he was my English teacher. And I was the news editor on the Guidon. And we had some West Point cadets come up because we had fraternities at that time, they said to us, "Boy do you guys have it great here," because of the social life and everything. And that was the greatest thing about Norwich. Norwich has always been about the citizen soldier. Now this is before we had civilian students, so you got to 7 realize that what I'm talking about here is my time at Norwich as a cadet corps, the citizen soldier. They trained us to go out into the world and be a civilian but if the country needed us, to come back and to serve our country. And that was our whole philosophy. SY: And I think the other element of the citizen solider that I find compelling is the idea that you're a thinking citizen with a trained mind and you also know how to follow orders, right? RL: Absolutely. SY: And so I'm wondering as you sort of went on in the army if that training as a citizen soldier ever got you into trouble. Did those two things ever clash, your moral code, your ethics, your trained mind, and, "Do this?" RL: Well I think it could and maybe did. It's like yes and no. There's only two answers. There's a no or a yes and there's nothing in between. Now therefore you become very moralistic, moral, saying, "OK, that's wrong." But in the real world, there's a middle line there and you have to try to come to grips with that. Sometimes you can't stomach it. I mean sometimes it's either yes or no and that's it. I find that too many times people are not willing to say yes or no, they're willing to kind of muddy the water and go with a middle direction and that may not be the best way to do. And sometimes, and this I shouldn't probably say, but I say sometimes that affects our policies and the way we look at combat and the way we look at what's happening out there. SY: Was there ever a time when you said no? Was there ever a time you sort of refused an order? RL: Refuse an order? SY: Where you're like, "I don't think this is right." RL: No, I have found in life that you never -- if you're given an order and you're in a public place and that, don't ever say no, ever. The time to say no is after in private because I have learned that commanders do not want to be criticized in front of their troops or in front of a group. And they will cut you off at the knees. And I understand, some people didn't. You don't get in an argument if you're briefing and the commander is saying something that you may not agree with or is trying to correct you, you let them do it. Point being is you correct it after the briefing or whatever. And if he still does not accept your evaluation of such and such, then you let it go. Now to say that you always do what you're told to do, yeah you better watch out because if you're told to do by the commander and he comes back and checks and it's not done, you're going to lose your job. But if you're told to do something and find a better way to do it, that's a different story. So you have to think. It's not just those things, yes sir two bags full. It's the point is, "Yes sir," and think about, then how to get it done. If it's an impossible thing to do, and I ran across this when I was a battalion commander, and it was during a timeframe where we were faced with cuts in the budget and we weren't getting the right maintenance equipment and things like that. And my troops were living in World War II barracks where in the wintertime we had to almost wrap the whole building in cellophane 8 in order to keep the wind out and the cold out. And we had oil furnaces that sometimes went belly up. And in the summer time my troops were dragging their mattresses outside and sleeping in the street because it was so hot inside. And I had a confrontation with my brigade commander, support command commander. And I went into his office and told him I did not have to be motivated by his letter of reprimand. And he looked at me and he says, "Is that all?" And I said, "Yes sir." "You're dismissed." And I walked out. And these are World War II barracks and one of the clerks had called the other battalion commanders and they came running to the support command headquarters. And they said, "What did you do? Why did you do a dumb thing like that?" He says, "All of us have gotten these letters of reprimand," but this is the way the colonel commanded his troops with giving them letters of reprimand to light fires under them. Well I was not -- if somebody had told me this before, maybe I would've been a little mellow, but I wasn't. And I was just stubborn enough to go in and confront him. And I'm not encouraging people to do that, think it out, let it cool off before you do something. But from that day on, that commander and I had a great relationship. SY: He respected you? RL: He and I would sit down on a Saturday morning because we were working six days a week, sometimes seven days a week. And this isn't peace time now. And he would say, "OK." And with the problems that he knew were happening with the battalion, he would say, "OK." And then he would write notes to that battalion commander for maintenance or admin for people. He'd tell them I want so and so and so done. Or he'd look at me say, "That's your responsibility. You take care of it." And you damn well better take care of it because he was giving you support but you were responsible for all this, now you get it done. And when he left, years and years later, I was at Arlington National Cemetery visiting the grave of my mother-in-law. And my wife and I walked up the hill. This is just below where the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is. And as I walked up and went onto the road, right across that street was a gravestone, a major general, who had been my support command commander. And I have done a composite book for all three of my children of my military record and in there I positively made this statement of this incident where he gave me a letter of reprimand. And what I said is that if I ever have to go to war, I want to go to war with this man because I knew that that was a man that I respected, that was a man that I knew he could do what he said he could do and he demanded that of his troops and he wouldn't take a "No." When he said, "Do it," you well knew it was to your benefit to do it. He had served three tours in Vietnam. He was highly decorated. He had been an enlisted man and then went to the prep school and then went to West Point. It was a guy I respected. SY: You trusted him. RL: Yeah. And you knew that he'd take care of you. But in order to survive in the battlefield, you had to learn and you had to do what he said because he had the experience. Now when you got the experience, you see, and then he would rely upon you to get the job done. But he'd tell you what to do and then it was up to you to do it. And how you did it, that was up to you.9 SY: Yeah, that's interesting. So let's rewind a little. So you finish up Norwich and you commission. And where do you go, what do you commission? RL: Well after I got my commission I went to -- because my eyes were not good enough for combat arms, I was commissioned in the transportation corps, but I had to serve three years in combat arms, that was the rule. So they sent me to Fort Benning. And I went to infantry officer basic course. I went to airborne school and then I went to ranger school. And if you ever need any stories about those schools, back in those days, I could tell you some that were -- again, it's one of those things where it is rough, but boy oh boy, you got to roll with the punches and you can have some good belly laughs out of it. SY: Well tell me one of them. RL: Well down in Florida during the jungle training, they kept you awake. They kept you on constant patrol, patrol, patrol. They wanted you to be exhausted, to see how you would react and how you could do it. Well we kept going out and out on patrols and we had a plan and usually we went out at night time, at night patrols. And I was the last guy in the patrol and I carried an M1 rifle. And we had these little florescent things attached to our cap where you can see the guy in front of you so you could follow him. And we were going through the swamps and there was a log there and I stepped over a log. And I took a step off the log and I went up to my waist in mud. And I looked around and there was nobody there. The guys had kept on going. They didn't know I was stuck in the mud. So here they are and you're not trying to shout or anything, but luckily the guy in front of me looked behind and didn't see me and sent the word up to halt for a minute. He came back and he had to pull me out of the mud or I would've been there to this day. And the fact is that we got through all this and we did all this and we were in the mountains one time and I had the automatic rifle slung across my neck and this is with the ammunition pouches and everything. We're walking up this mountain road and they said take a break. And I was on the left hand column, so I went off to the side of the road and just squatted to lean, I thought against a bank. Well there was no bank. And I went over head over heels down the side of this mountain and came up flat against a tree with my feet up in the air. And I wasn't hurt and I got myself out of that. So I called back up onto the road. Guys hauled me up. And we had a good chuckle about that. But it was stupid instances like that. They weren't funny to anybody else, but in our state of mind they were. And you never forget them. SY: Yeah, absolutely. So you do all of those different schools and then where's your first placement? RL: My first assignment was in Germany with the First of the Fifteenth Infantry Company B. That was the company that Audie Murphy served in during the Second World War. And as you know he was the most decorated of our military heroes. And at the time I arrived we were a straight infantry. We walked everywhere. We weren't mechanized. And while I was there, I was there a year and a half in Bamberg, Germany, and our mission was we would deploy to -- if the Russians came through the Fulda Gap to delay them as long as we could until the armor could move up to confront the enemy. So ours was the delaying action. Well while I was there, we became mechanized with armored personnel 10 carriers. But during that time we didn't have them, we would walk to training areas one way, either in the morning or walk back in the afternoon and be trucked out in the morning or be trucked back in the afternoon, one of them. But we walked one way because there was a gas shortage at that time. So periodically an infantry platoon was in our company was sent out to what they call a forward position, an infantry platoon plus an engineer platoon. And we had a cantonment area out there, barracks and all. And it was our job, we stayed in communication with the base, that if the balloon did go up and the Russians did come across then we had certain missions to protect the engineers in blowing bridges and et cetera, et cetera. And that's what our job was. And my job out there was to call unannounced alerts, usually early in the morning, and then the guys all had to jump, get dressed, and in the trucks, and gone out of the cantonment area to their designated positions. Now we did that for a year and a half and then because I was a transportation corps officer and had served my time in the combat arms, I was sent to Berlin, Germany. At that time it was a walled city. They were still building some of the wall. And it was isolated. There were four sections, French, British, American, and Soviet. And the Soviet section was walled in and you could only go -- usually you hear, "Checkpoint Charlie." Checkpoint Charlie was a real point in the wall with barbed wire and everything. Now I understand it's just like a block of concrete or something in the road. Well back then, it was real life. And I saw places where refugees had tried to climb the wall and had been terminated, had been killed. SY: So you saw their blood on the wall? RL: Well you knew where they were because the bodies had been taken away and we knew where they had tried to get across. But at that time I was a train commander and as a train commander I took the train from Berlin to Helmstedt which was in the western zone through the Russian zone. And we had to stop the train in Marienborn for a Soviet checkpoint. We wouldn't deal with East Germans. We didn't recognize the East Germans. We dealt with the Russians only. That was the politics of the time. And a Russian officer would be there. I had an interpreter and we would check every document for every person that was on the train. And sometimes you could tell when tensions were high the Russian officers would be really SOBs and when tensions were not high then they were more friendly. But there were always a couple of Russian officers who were SOBs regardless of what. However, I did that for a good year and at the same time I had a good buddy who had been in the infantry in one of the other battle groups in the same town, had been my roommate in Bamberg, Germany where we had been stationed, who reverted to the MP corps and came to Berlin and was riding the freight trains, the same route, everything else, but on a different track. But he was in charge of the MP detail that was on the freight trains. And I remember one time we got stopped in the middle of the Russian zone and I looked out my window of my passenger train and there was the freight train and there was my buddy. "How are you doing?" We put the window down, we'd chit chat before one of the trains moved on. He was going west and I was going east. But there were times like that and Berlin was -- SY: Were there any really high tension moments that you had?11 RL: Well yeah it was because you didn't know how they were going to react. I mean they could be real SOBs or they could be -- the thing is is that at that time you didn't want to take a chance of not following the rules. Berlin was the showcase of Western Europe. They had rebuilt it from the war and the contrast between West Berlin and the Soviet, it was like night and day. I was a staff officer for part of my time there and I had to take a Sedan and a driver and drive into the Russian sector just to show the flag. And sometimes I would get out to walk and I would take pictures of some -- Berlin before the war must've been a magnificent, beautiful city because I could tell you the architecture and everything else. And then the apartment buildings that the Russians had built looked about as drab and falling apart as you could ever believe. So that's why they had to put up the wall, that's why they had to stop the rupture of East Germans coming into the West. And cultural wise and everything else, the western zone -- guys, you couldn't have asked for anything more. And Kennedy came and paraded through West Berlin. I was there. I was there between like ten feet away, fifteen feet away, and believe it or not there was a Norwich graduate there, my class, name of Bob Francis who was in the signal corps. And I don't know if he was taking pictures for whatever, but he was there during the parade. I saw him and talked to him. Now when Kennedy lost his life, the Berliners, when he said ich bin ein Berliner and they just went crazy. They loved him. So when he died, they turned out every light in West Berlin. They turned out every light. There wasn't a light there and lit candles in their windows, put candles in their windows. SY: Do you remember where you were when you found out that Kennedy had been shot? RL: I was in Berlin, where exactly I can't remember. I just know that the effect it had on the Berliners and on the world was amazing. And the Berliners loved this man just from the standpoint of what he said that time and he had come. And the respect, the showing of respect by candles, putting them in the windows, and turning out all the other lights was amazing. No other president has been honored, I don't think, with such sincerity. People try to emulate, but unfortunately they fall far short. SY: Was there ever a moment when you were in Berlin or Germany in general where you were like, "This Cold War is about to get hot," where you thought, "Oh, it's going to start?" Did Dick tell me a story? Was it your story about a plane where if it took off, that was going to be a reaction? He said something about a plane. I don't know what I'm talking about. RL: That was Vietnam. SY: That was Vietnam. That was later. OK. RL: I keep hitting that. I can't remember because it was always there and you were always prepared. And so to say one point over another, I can't remember such. Now I did have a friend there who flew helicopters and I do remember flying over Hitler's bunker that was totally destroyed from the Second World War and there was just nothing but dirt, concrete, that had never been rebuilt. Little things like that I remember. I remember going to see the ballet, Swan Lake as a matter of fact. They brought all of these wonderful cultural things into Berlin to show people the difference between the two 12 countries or philosophies you might say. But to think about the tensions, yeah, but when we were told to make staff rides and to be in total communication with our headquarters because we never knew when our cars might be stopped and something might happen. But other than that, no. SY: Yeah, it was just a pervasive feeling? RL: It was a constant reminder and harassment to leave Berlin. To drive, it was going through checkpoints. And then you didn't know if you were going to get let back in and all of these things. But life goes on. SY: OK, so then you leave Berlin and where do you go next? RL: Well from Berlin I went to -- and let me relate something here too about Norwich. Back when I was a senior, Norwich had corporations come in to recruit and to interview you and that. Eastman Kodak came in and I was supposed to see them and I didn't. Eastman Kodak wrote me a letter and it said, "When you have your military obligation finished, let us know and we'll bring you to Rochester." So when I came back from overseas, there was a question there whether I would stay in the army or not. Not serious, but I wanted to explore all of my options. So I went to Rochester. They offered me a job and et cetera, et cetera, but I did stay in the military. SY: Why'd you decide to stay in? RL: Well maybe it was something I was used to, you felt comfortable in. You have a driving flame to be the general or something? No, I just felt comfortable in what I was doing. I liked what I was doing. And so I kind of just stuck with it. SY: And this is what? Now we're at '64? RL: Yes. SY: So Vietnam is just starting to get on people's radar. RL: The big buildup was '65, '66 when they started sending all the divisions over. And then of course '67, '68 being the Tet Offensive. So I was assigned out to Fort Lewis. And then I was only there a year and I was given orders to go to Fort Bragg to be trained as a Special Forces officer. So I reported into Fort Bragg and was trained. And the revolution in the Dominican Republic occurred. And the 82nd Airborne was deployed to the Dominican Republicans, so they sent a contingence of Special Forces down there, and I was one of those. My mission there was more -- as a detachment commander I was small team, modified team, intelligence gathering upcountry on the island. And then I came back after that and was the S4 for the unit. SY: So this is the revolution and opposition to Trujillo? RL: Trujillo had been assassinated. And the communist were trying to take over the country. And luckily the Dominicans were -- and the 82nd Airborne -- the US was asked to come 13 in and help. And they contained the uprising in the inner city of Santo Domingo, the inner city. And they barb wired it. They had literally barb wire all around the old city and kept the communist in there. Now there were some in the country, in other places and towns, but the Dominican Republic was set up as -- the police force was almost as strong as the army because every police force had a fort in every town. And they had their own weapons, et cetera, et cetera. And the police force was pretty brutal if there was any question at all. Like I was on jump status down there on the island and we used to jump over sugar cane fields. And nine out of ten times -- for practice and to keep proficient -- the police force or the military had brought in who they thought were rebels and popped them, dumped bodies in there. So you found those things. So there was a certain amount of strong armed tactics that the Dominicans were imposing against their own people. But these people were looked upon as Communists and were trying to take over the country. SY: So how did you react to that, finding those bodies in the fields? RL: I walked away. I wasn't going to bury them and I kind of took a pragmatic look at it. I said, "You know what, there is nothing I can do about it. These guys are dead. The diplomats are down here trying to effect an election where the people will elect a Democratic president. We're doing the best job that we can to provide a stable atmosphere for this to take place." And other than that -- and I was upcountry, as I say, intelligent gathering. And I will say that the country was pretty quiet. We had a few times where intelligence was -- radioed back. But the people on a whole were wonderful, hardworking people. And when I was the S4 of the unit, I went down to the quartermaster where our food depot was and that. And believe it or not, the doctors would condemn food, the package was open or something. It wasn't good enough for US soldier consumption. And there were no, what I call, rat turds in it or anything else, but it was just sitting there or a can was dented or something. I would police up all these food stuffs and with approval, the doctors said, "No that's OK but we can't serve this to the troops because of the rules." So I gather this up and we had other outposts in the country. And then I would fly up in a helicopter and give the food out to the people. I felt that was something because they were very, very poor. Let me tell you, the country at that time was -- SY: Oh I've spent time there. It still is. RL: I mean trash and everything, you couldn't believe it. Now it's a resort area though. SY: Except where it's not. RL: I'm sorry, but my personal opinion is that there are some places in the world that never improve. Why is it that the -- again, it's the old power grab. Those that have, have and those that don't -- unfortunately. We try to change that in so many places in the world and we've always done the right thing, for the most part, but it's a very tough, tough thing to do. And they can only help themselves. 14 SY: So that's an intense period of time in the DR. And then you come back and then they're like, "Oh, since you had that nice, intense experience, we're going to send you somewhere easy. How about you go to Vietnam?" I'm kidding obviously. RL: That's right. No, no, I went to school at Fort Eustis, had a job there for six months in the educational department doing reviewing training and things like that. And then I went off to Vietnam. On the way over I took a delay in route and visited Japan, Okinawa, and Taiwan because I had gone to school with a couple of Chinese officers who were stationed on Taiwan. I visited with them before I went to Vietnam. SY: Did you have any idea what you were getting into? RL: No, because I didn't know where I was going to be assigned at the time and when I arrived there at Tan Son Nhat Airport, we were getting rocketed and we lived in tents until they made our assignments. And I was assigned as a transportation corps officer to the fourth transportation command, which was working pier operations and that in Saigon. And I was a pier operations officer for part of my tour there. And this was before Tet Offensive. And we had barge sights that were out of town and I used to go by myself with a 45 strapped to my hip and drive like hell. [We went either by the River in a boat or drove to each barge site.] But at that time, we didn't realize how the VC had infiltrated the area and how serious the problem was. I was extremely lucky. I always thought in my career that I had a guardian angel watching over me because there were so many times where it could've gone the other way. And I remember this, just the night before -- actually the night that I was out and did something, which I won't say right here, it was all job related. I was out there alone in the delta and I came back and that morning was when the VCs struck. And when somebody from Cholon, which was the Chinese sector, some of the officers were going out to the headquarters and got ambushed, shot up, they never made it. And all hell broke loose. And I remember that the VC drove the people on the outlining communities into the city. I remember outside the port area, the one street was just -- one night -- was just crammed with refugees just streaming into the city trying to get away from the fighting. And there were a lot of other incidents where we had ships that were sitting out trying to get up the Saigon River to offload and they'd be spending days and days out there because the port was just jammed with ships and we were trying to offload the equipment and everything and we couldn't get them all up. And some of these ships were commercial ships with cargo holes. And they were rocketed and there were gaping holes in the sides and in the upper structure and things like that because they had to travel up through the delta, in a winding river which wasn't very wide to get to Saigon. And those guys, the bad guys, were out there. And we did our job. And I had a very good friend who was a helicopter pilot. And I remember we had to go to Vung Tau one time and we were in a Huey and we had a number of technicians with us and things like that. And we were flying along the delta and we were skimming the delta. We weren't flying high. We were just skimming. And all of the sudden I just hear this whomp, whomp, whomp, whomp and all of the sudden my buddy in the pilot chair, the whole chopper, he was trying to lift it, almost physically lift that chopper to get altitude because we were under fire. And this guy I have a great admiration for. He's been a friend for a good, long time -- got us out of the situation. We 15 got above it all and flew on to Vung Tau. And we got out. We looked and we were just lucky. Again, it's a matter of time, where you are, and sometimes just plain luck. SY: Right place, right time. Wrong place, wrong time. Did you have any -- I know some people had sort of superstitious good luck charms or things they did to -- were there things in Vietnam that you did to just kind of keep yourself safe in your own mind. RL: Nope. I just kind of -- I tell you quite frankly, I remember the presidential palace, right across the street from my billet. I mean the VC were so close into the city and Saigon was a beautiful town. Well let me say this, Tudor Street which was all tree lined, but during war time a lot of bars and bar girls and all that. But a beautiful town, some really fine French restaurants, but when they say Pearl of the Orient, it was prior to this time. I would say after the war, World War II because I don't think there was much damage there during World War II. But it must've been a beautiful country. SY: So when you were in Vietnam, a lot of people, it was an existential crisis for them. It brought on a lot of doubts about why they were there, what they were doing, the nature of war itself. Was that your experience or did you -- RL: I think that you could dwell on that if you wanted to. But I also think it's in the situation which you're placed in. If you're under a great deal of stress, if you're under fire, if your life is -- it might be snuffed out in a minute's notice, that you start to think about it more and say, "Why the heck am I here, God protect me. Let me just get out of this." And it so shocks your system that that images, they keep reoccurring. It's like your memory buds have been lit up and those things keep coming back in flashes. So I think it's all based upon the situation and where you are and what you're doing. SY: It sounds like you weren't in combat directly. RL: I wasn't directly in combat. I could've been shot because of snipers or anything else. But did I have a rifle in my hand and going out into the jungle, no I did not. My job was to ensure that cargo got lifted off of these ships onto barges or any place else and was delivered to the troops. And I did that. When I got promoted to major, then I was, due to a recommendation by one of my instructors at the transportation school, they recommended me for a staff position. And so they moved me -- still in the Saigon port, but I was at a staff position while I was there, the rest of the time I was there. I was there thirteen months. I was given a special project to do and I told the command that I would stay there until it was finished. So rather than twelve months, I spent thirteen months. SY: Do you remember the first day you arrived and the day you left? RL: I remember the first day I arrived. SY: What was your impression? RL: It was hot, steamy hot. We had a tent city. And there were hundreds of troops in a cantonment area at Tan Son Nhat Airforce Base. Planes coming and going. And I wasn't there very long. And then I was assigned to a unit in Saigon where I was working nights. 16 So I would sleep in daytime. So I do remember the arrival and coming off the plane. But going home, I'd have a hard time. SY: You weren't counting down your days? Well no, because you had that special project, so it wasn't like you were sure. RL: Well I knew I was going to stay. I mean I just knew it. I knew that I was going to do this and that was it. It's hard to -- SY: Was it hard to adjust to coming back home after being in Vietnam? RL: I came back. I was stationed at Fort Monroe. And I worked for the training command there. And I was responsible for the training budget of all the service schools around the United States, to include the aviation schools at Fort Wolters, Rucker, all this. And I remember I worked for a guy named General Pepke and his deputy was a General Andrews. Pepke was a two star at that time and Andrews was a one star. And I had a very responsible position because at that time, believe it or not, in the early '70s, they were downsizing to get out of Vietnam and the school budgets were being cut. And I remember the DA staff called me about the aviation budget for our aviation schools. And I worked with two colonels, lieutenant colonels, who became general officers and trying to save the aviation budget from being cut to the bone. And I remember I worked on a lot of projects and was flying back and forth between Fort Monroe and Washington to work with these officers and try to save as much as we could. And that was I think a turning point probably in my career because I had not been selected for the Commander and General Staff College yet, I was a major. Now Commander and General Staff School is very important to you. I hadn't been selected yet. So there was an opportunity there and I was already working on my master's degree, going to night school. Now I was working constantly with a high pressure job and I was going to school for my master's degree with George Washington and I was doing commander general staff work with the reserve unit at Fort Eustis which was about 20 miles away. SY: You were a busy guy. RL: So I was going to school for four nights a week plus weekends working plus doing my job plus doing the papers and studying and doing all the things you have to do. So I was out and that's why I say to people don't ever get discouraged, don't let people tell you that you're not going to make it or you're not going to do something. You have to keep plugging away and rely upon yourself to be good enough to do it. So I have to say that I wasn't married at the time, so your social life goes to hell in a handbasket. See, you have to set your priorities. And there's another thing that Norwich is going to help you do is set priorities and know what's important and what's not important in life because you have to look down the pike. Think outside the box and then see what it's going to be like ten -- 15 -- 20 years from now. So if you want a career, you got to work for it. And they're not going to hand it to you. You go out and get it. You prove your point to them. So all this happened and I finished up my Commander and General Staff stuff, I got my master's degree, and they shipped me to Korea.17 SY: Now at this point you must be tired. RL: Well I'm going to tell you right now, the thing is that you learn something from your education, from Norwich, which is to press on. It's the old thing as can do, I will try, whatever. Can do was my infantry, first of the fifteenth, can do outfit, Norwich was I will try. And those things drive you, especially if you have fire in your belly and you want to go someplace. And you're not satisfied with just sitting on your butt and hoping that it's going to happen. So I go to Korea and I work for 8th Army HQ in Seoul and I'm a logistical staff officer and out of the blue the general calls me in and said, "Oh by the way you're going to continue as a logistical staff officer, but you're now the missile maintenance officer for Korea." That's an ordinance job and the ordinance officer had just gone home and they didn't have anybody. So now I'm responsible and the problem they had with the Hawk missile program which is a Raytheon product was they were getting about 40% reliability. And DA was holy hell on the command. So I had to do something about that. Well let me put it this way, it's a twelve month tour in Korea. And my assignment officer, the big assignment officer from DA, came over and he says, "Hey, yeah Lotz, you're going to the armed forces staff college." So I said, "Hey look, I've been to Leavenworth." He says, "You're going to the joint school, the armed forces staff college, in Norfolk." And I said, "Well when's this going to happen." He said, "Your next class is six or seven to eight months out," after I come back. I said, "What will I be doing?" He said, "You'll snowbird." Well snowbird is that you go there and you do whatever the school tells you to do. And I told him, I said, "No, I don't want to do that." I stayed in Korea 18 months. I worked on the job I did and when I did that, the reliability of the Hawk missile was at 94%. I had done a whole refurbishment program on the other missiles that we had in budget, I had set up budgets for refurbishment, did all of that, and so I came out of Korea with what they call is a dual job efficiency report because I did two jobs in one. And then I went to the armed forces staff college. SY: There you go. And then you get married. RL: No, not yet. I got to school. I went through school. I was assigned to the military personnel center where I was given a job as the lead on women in the army. I used to brief the DA staff. I used to go over there with all the statistics because we were trying to create a model that would determine the grade and MOS and how to bring them in without having big bubbles and all of that, et cetera, et cetera. And I used to go over with these big, in those days, printouts like this and I used to brief the DA staff. And I used to bring these printouts to them and I'd say generals if you don't believe what I'm saying, you can read it. And I drop it on the floor and they'd all laugh. We're talking about two or three stars and they all laugh because they know they aren't going to do that thing. So they were listening to what I was saying, it's the how we were trying to work this. And I wasn't trying to be smart. I was just trying to lighten the load, just be a little levity there. And I was recommended for the Pace Award because of that and I was given a special award. And I met my wife in Washington. My wife, I was trying to get a date with her and she was busy or I was busy. One time I just got fed up and said, "Are you free Friday night? Can we go out?" And she finally said yes. And so her father was a retired colonel infantry which she never let me forget. And we went out to dinner and dancing down in Washington. And I said to her that night, I said, "I think I'm going to marry 18 you." She said she'd never marry a military guy. And she says, "I think you're right." I've been married ever since, the same woman, very happily married. SY: That's a lovely story. So we've been talking for like about an hour and fifteen minutes. RL: And you want to know something? You got more than you need. SY: And I think you probably want to -- I don't want to take up your whole day. RL: No, and I got to get going. SY: Yeah, exactly. So any last thoughts? This was great. Let me -- RL: It's too much, I know. But I'm telling you stories. SY: No, no, you're telling me stories. This is all really important. RL: We haven't gotten to the point where I got to be a battalion commander about this guy, Pendleton, who used to be -- I'll tell you that a different time. But that's the leadership team. There's what you face as a battalion commander. There is where you have distress and strain of seven days a week, 24 hours a day and have to take care of the troops. SY: So when we have more time, we'll really go into that. I'll put a pin in this. So let's pick. So when we talked on the phone yesterday, you were talking about how you think that in terms of remembering war there's this unfair hierarchy where combat stories are valued more highly than other stories. So do you want to speak to that? RL: It's the perception that people have that when you mention warfare, they think of combat because that's what it's all about. You wouldn't have a war unless somebody was fighting. So we focus on those people who are in combat because they're the ones nine out of ten times who get wounded or there's fatalities and things like that. But we forget about those who support the combat troops, the combat service support troops, and things like that, that there's a huge number of people behind supplying and taking care of, the medical people and the supply people and the transportation people and all these people that are supporting the combat role. Even the artillery people, the combat service support, it's a team and we can't forget that there's a large team behind the combat lines that are supporting those in the trenches. SY: And also I'm sure that in Vietnam even though you were behind the lines, you still were in danger all the time I would imagine. RL: Well you were because the way the war was there, you didn't know who your enemy was because the enemy melded in with the populace. And the snipers and the ambushes and things like that that could happen at any time. So you always had to be prepared. The convoys had to be prepared even in the city sometimes, especially during the Tet Offensive in '68, the Tet Offensive. A lieutenant working with us was ambushed and was killed. So it could happen at any time. And there was no front lines in the First World19 War. It was a trench. And you knew those bad guys were on that side and you were on the other side. It's a different war out there during my service. SY: Yeah. What was it like to live with that constant anxiety and confusion? You were there for a long time? RL: Well yeah, but the thing is is that you didn't dwell on it because if you dwelt on it, then you were afraid all the time and you couldn't get your job done and you couldn't function. So you put it out of your mind. It's one of those things that when you're put under stress, you look to God to say, "Make sure I get through this." SY: Were there ever moments when it broke through and felt that fear, like I don't know, going to bed at night or waking up in the morning or things like that? RL: Only from the standpoint of anxiety you might say. There were times -- the night before the Tet Offensive, I had to go to a barge site and I went alone and I had to go through the city across the bridge outside the city. And the Vietnamese troops were guarding the bridge and so I pulled up in my Jeep and they looked at me and I said, "I got to go to the barge site," which was a couple miles away. You had to go through this little village and all. And they looked like as if I was nuts. But I went and this was about one o'clock in the morning. And I went through the village down to the barge site, checked it out, the operation and everything, and came back and at dawn that same day the next vehicle that came into that village was ambushed. Well there for the grace of God, go I. So there's no way of telling what's going to happen at times. And so the anxiety level is there but you can't dwell on it and you do your job. SY: Does your training keep you from dwelling on it? RL: I think so, yeah, if you know what you're doing. It definitely is a big plus. If you didn't know what you were doing, your anxiety level would really be high because then you would be looking in the shadows. It's not that you're not conscious of what's going on around you because your training develops that instinct to look at certain things and evaluate certain -- and quickly and whether it's safe or not safe. So from that standpoint, yeah your training is a key factor into how you react and how you look at things. It tells you when to go and not to go at times. So it can be a life saver. SY: So I interviewed a guy just last month or a couple weeks ago and he was also an officer. He was also a logistics guy behind the scenes, but it was in Iraq and as we know there's no real distinction between combat and noncombat anymore. And he was describing when he came back, it took him a while to realize that he had some of the signs of PTSD. He needed the quick fix. He had the hypervigilance. He was seeking out thrills and things like that. And I'm wondering if -- it was talked about less in Vietnam, especially if you'd come back and function, it wasn't talked about at all. But did you when you came back experience trouble adjusting back into a civilian -- not civilian because you're still in but? RL: Well I think maybe I had a sense of -- I was self-sufficient you might say. I could handle my emotions. I could -- so I'm self-sufficient you might say, not a loner, but able to cope 20 you might say better than others. And because of my background, because of how I was brought up, because of everything, that all contributes to how you adapt and can assimilate all that happens to you in a combat zone when you come back and try to come back into the community. The associations you have with your family, the associations you have with people, how you view the world and everything else, all of that's a factor in what affects you up here in your head. SY: Claire, can you tell them to be quiet nicely? F2: Sure. RL: See that all affects how you look on life. And so from that standpoint I would say that I didn't come back with a lot of anxiety, I came back to a world that was safe, the world that hadn't been effected by war, a world that I didn't have to watch out. SY: Was it strange to like sleep in a nice comfortable and to eat delicious food? RL: No. SY: It just was easy? RL: It was easy. I assimilated right back in. But I tell you, that's based on attitude too. And you got to realize this, you don't always sleep on the floor. You don't always sleep and live out of a rucksack. There were cantonment areas and things like that. In Vietnam it was like they were trying, because the war wasn't popular, is they tried to bring all the comforts of home to Vietnam. So for the combat troops when they weren't out in the field, they could come back to a cantonment area with all -- good food, rest, relaxation, et cetera, et cetera. And they also had the R&R where they could go over to Australia or to Japan or wherever and Thailand. So there were certain things and they tried in Vietnam to try to keep guys in combat maybe six months and then six months in a rural area. So there's all different aspects that you have to consider when you look how a person's going to react when he comes back. SY: Are there any, I don't know -- when you think about Vietnam, I don't know how often you think about it now. Are there smells, images, feelings that you remember, anything that sticks with you? One guy, I read his memoir, he talked about the smell because they were burning poop where he was living. RL: That was up at a cantonment area. We had the outside latrines and all that and they had to do it to get rid of it. A lot of times in the Orient you'll find they'd throw it on their fields, in the rice, and all that. They use it for fertilizing. Well the Germans did too and animal manure was – used as fertilizer. SY: Welcome to Vermont spring. RL: Well you had the old honey wagon. So in Germany they used to pour it onto the fields. And that's why you had to be careful of what you ate and things like that, especially in the Orient. What I remember about Vietnam, the food, not the American but I mean the 21 Vietnamese food. I do remember the time where there was during the Tet Offensive a lot of rocket attacks right across the street from where I was staying and the presidential palace wasn't too far, like two blocks away. The thing was that the rocket attacks would come in and then I remember one morning they heavily rocketed that area and the concussions and the noise you hit the floor, and then I ran outside because right across the street there was a Vietnamese family and a rocket had hit the house. And so this other fellow and I ran inside, up the rubble, actually the rubble, and got into the front entrance because the family had children. And we found the family, luckily nobody was hurt. They were underneath the stairs and they had been saved because they had taken shelter underneath the stairs where that closet or whatever it was saved them. And we hauled them out. I remember that. I remember working in the Saigon port and on the Saigon River. I remember that little incidence where we took ground fire. I remember little things like that. SY: Yeah, I bet the food was amazing. RL: The food was. I thought the food -- Oriental food can be quite good. When I was stationed in Korea I used to eat on the economy all the time. And you'd sit on a pillow and fold your legs and a lot of times they had a grill in front of you and things like that. I liked Korean beer. SY: Korean beer is good. I like Korean barbeque too. So we haven't gotten talk about you being -- you were a brigade commander right? RL: I was a brigade commander. SY: How many people were in your brigade? RL: It was thousands. I was a commander of the school brigade which had all the troops and students for the transportation school at Fort Eustis. SY: And the story you were telling of when you were staying in the World War II barracks and you had that -- RL: I was a battalion commander at Fort Bragg. SY: That was Fort Bragg? RL: That was Fort Bragg, North Carolina. I was commander of the seventh transportation battalion, had a long military history in that battalion. We had the only airborne car company still left in the United States army and that was left over from World War II. And the commander was a captain and he was on jump status because of the airborne car company, that was the connotation of it. And they were used -- that's why I say it's leftover from the Second World War. They also had an air delivery company, quartermaster company, where it was commanded by a major. And they did rigging for heavy drops, meaning vehicles, supplies, everything, and rigging the parachutes, and things like that. And because I had airborne troops in my battalion, my job also my slot was designated as an airborne slot. So at 44 I was still jumping out of airplanes.22 SY: Woah, so how'd your wife feel about that? RL: I had been married two years, three years at that time. And her father had been a 30 year veteran in the infantry, had been in the Second World War and that. And it's part of the job. SY: You were meeting a lot of people. So did you have any leadership challenges? How do you think you did as a leader? Were you the right mixture of approachable and intimidating? Did you think about that? RL: Well I guess if I had to self-evaluate, I was both because my commander expected -- he expected his commanders to be combat ready all the time and to be efficient and to get the job done regardless of the obstacles. There was a certain amount of pressure. Which therefore, you had to -- like they say, it rolls downhill. Now you had to say that at this time we had a volunteer army. Yeah, we were in a volunteer army. We had kids from all over the country. And we had to appeal to their sense of duty because that wasn't an eight to five job. I don't know where they ever got this idea. And the accommodations they lived in were not pleasant. They were the bunks and the World War II barracks, one latrine at the end. And the barracks were not in very good shape because that was the time of the Carter timeframe and they were cutting back on the forces. The money wasn't there. It wasn't being appropriated for repair parts or anything else so your vehicles were down a lot of time. You had to spend long hours to try to maintain and keep them going. And maintenance was one of the biggest problems with keeping the vehicles going, trying to make sure that the troops were taken care, and weren't put in such a state where they couldn't function. And we just did so many different things within the battalion because not only did I have truck company, I had Jeeps, I had an air delivery company, I had a Stevedore company that lifted the boxes and all that. So we had a challenge because we were multifunction, not just one focus. And we supported the 82nd airborne. And the 82nd airborne was -- they had three brigades. One brigade would be in the field and we had to support them. One brigade would be in garrison and we had to support them. And one brigade would be I'd say down, not deployable, they were resting after doing these other two. Well we had to support on a 24 hour, seven day basis, those two other brigades. We never had any down time. And that's why the vehicles had problems because we were running them all the time. And so it got to be a challenge, a real big challenge. But I was extremely proud of my battalion I encouraged my troops to be competitors. Fort Bragg there was very competitive with the 82nd airborne, the other troops there. They had boxing matches. We had combat football. We had air delivery competitions with the 82nd because they had their own air delivery unit. And I would say that my boxers, I reestablished and let some of my troops box, started taking championships. We beat the 82nd airborne in combat football, never been done before even though my commander who was a major at the time and was captain of our combat football team broke his collar bone. And it wasn't too long after that that they outlawed combat football because there were too many injuries. But the fact here is here was a support element, a transportation battalion, that went up against the combat troops, the 82nd airborne, and beat them in combat football, biggest thing. I was real proud of my troops. I had the championship women's basketball team at Fort Bragg. So esprit de corps is a very important thing and you got to give them a sense of accomplishment, not 23 only on the job but also in these other areas. So you try to encourage that. It's a difficult thing. It's a balancing act. It's like you have to keep all the balls up in the air at the same time and you have to learn how to do that. And it's not an easy thing. SY: Interesting. So I have two more questions for you and then Clark has some Norwich questions for you. But I also know time is an issue. My buddy Dick [Shultz?] told me a story. He discovered halfway through that I was Jewish. And then it was all over. He talked about -- he says you have some story about an airplane, it was in Vietnam, almost taking off or something, a Cold War story about if this airplane takes off, we're with war with Russia. I don't know, he remembered something. You don't know what he's talking about or you do? And you watched the plane hover and then it went down again. Maybe this wasn't Vietnam. Maybe this was Korea. I don't know. RL: I don't know. I was in South America one time and I was in special ops. I was Special Forces then. And one of the planes, it was a C123, which was an old prop driven. I mean you never see those today. And it was special ops. And the pilots, we were contour flying. Contour flying means you're right on the deck, bounding up and down because of the air drafts and everything else, and I remember this vividly. I was up with the pilots and these two guys -- you got to remember, air force guys I think are a little bit different than army guys. And they have to be for what they do. And these two pilots were up there just chatting away. I mean it was like they're having a cup of coffee down in the wherever and they were just chatting back and forth and this thing was bouncing up and down, up and down, and all across wise. And they were just having the grandest time. And you got to realize that it takes a special breed to do this. And it's the joy. I mean, I was a young guy and I just had the greatest time because -- and you have to have the competence though. And that's where you were talking about the training and everything else is so important. It's that these guys were able to do this, almost with their eyes closed. But the fact is, it was dangerous, what we were doing. And the helicopter I told you about being shot at and the pilot, as I say, I make light of it. But the fact was, we were taking ground fire and very well that chopper could've gone right there into the patties except for the pilot, again who I knew personally and had great confidence, and just pulled back on the pitch. And that thing, we didn't know if it was going to make it up or not because the rounds were hitting and if they'd hit the wrong part, we were done for. But this guy was just cool as hell, pardon the expression. He was. And that chopper, the vibration, it was just straining to get up over 1,000 feet where we get out of range of the ground fire. There were other things, but -- which one? There was a couple other things. But it was fun because you're young and you think you're invincible. And like you were talking about, how do you feel about -- some of these things you don't think about because you put it right out of your mind. And sometimes you put it out of your mind for a purpose. SY: Training plus testosterone. RL: And you just don't think about it after that too. Some of the things are so emotional that you don't. You put them out of your mind and you don't go back. That's just the way of life.24 SY: So one last question, people talk a lot about the military civilian divide. And you said that they're two different cultures. So you were in the military a long time and then you're retired. And so how do you interact with the civilian world? Do you feel different than the people around you who are civilians? Do you mostly spend time in military circles still? RL: No, when I left the service I never looked behind. And I went 180 degrees, gone the other way. SY: All right, what did you do? RL: I established my own business out of a hobby. I worked with antique clocks, 1700 and 1800. And I found that in order for me to establish a business, I had to go do these high end antique shows. And so I started doing high end antique shows, maybe was doing 15 or 16 a year -- I had a studio built off the back of my house. Business was by appointment only. And I had between 45 and 50 tall case clocks plus all these other clocks and things like that. And I'm down to about two shows a year now. And I used to be driving 40,000 miles a year to do the shows. But it gave me the latitude to be my own boss. It gave me the latitude to where if I didn't want to work seven days a week, 24 hours a day, I didn't have to because I had a young family. And I just didn't want to go back into the pressure cooker. The pressure cooker is what I call, even in my final days -- I had great jobs, one of them where I was the DCS for air transportation in the military airlift command, which is now melded into the transportation command at Scott Airforce Base. I was responsible for all the aerial reports and cargo and passengers all over the world. I had people all over the world. And so one time I left from Scott Airforce Base to the west coast to Hawaii, to Japan, to Korea, to Okinawa, to the Philippines, to Diego Garcia, to Turkey, to Germany, to Spain, to England, and home. So I only say that because I'm giving you the perspective that you can do anything in your military career. It depends on the field you're in. And one time I worked for the comptroller of the army as one of his executive assistants and was also congressional liaison for the appropriation committee with Congress. I worked with the Senate and the House of Representations when I was stationed in Washington. So what I'm trying to say is that a military career is not just one thing. I've had a varied career from combat arms to comptrollership to transportation to a multitude of other things, Special Forces and that. SY: But then you didn't want to go back. You wanted a job that wasn't that intense? RL: Well it was the fact is that that was me. Everybody's different and it was me. And I've been involved with Norwich since I was a class agent. And let me just tell you what I did because this is what I say to the Norwich grad is to keep active. I was a class agent for a while, then I was president of the alumni club in Washington DC. Then I went to the alumni board. Then I was president of the alumni association. Then I went to the board of trustees. Then I went to the Board of Fellows. Then I was chairman of the Board of Fellows. And then I had been a contributor with the Partridge Society and all of that. And I worked with the Colby Symposium for 20 years. And today they just appointed me as chair of the Friends of the Colby, the military author's symposium.25 SY: Cool, congratulations. Do you feel like Norwich -- it clearly prepared you for a military career. Do you think it also prepared you for your civilian career? RL: Sure. SY: How so? RL: I think that Norwich gave me an attitude. You know, it's an attitude and it's a level of confidence. Norwich University was the perfect match for me because it gave me the opportunity for leadership positions. I was the cadre every year I was here. And second it did, it gave me a great opportunity to meet combat vets because of the PMSNT and the cadre officers and that and to associate with some really find people. Thirdly, I met some great professors. Loring Hart was my English teacher. And I wrote an article for the Guidon one time and he wrote me a little note. He said, "Well done, you learned something." Little things like that that were feedback from the administration. Ernie Harmon who was the president at the time, I had met maybe four or five times. And when I was given an award or my diploma and the only other time I met him was when he chewed me out one time really bad when I was a corporal of the guard, and I mean really bad. SY: What did you do? RL: He drove up and parked his Cadillac and was going up to his office and I was the corporal of the guard. We were ready to take the flag down or something. And I didn't see him. But I didn't call the guard to attention or anything. And he just came over and chewed me out for not calling to attention and saluting him. And I said, "Yes sir." And the other time I met him was the time he called me into his office. And here's a good story for you. He called me in. He says, "I got a letter from your parents. They're concerned because you weren't accepted into advanced ROTC," because I failed the medical because of my eyes. And he says, "Do you want to be in advanced ROTC?" And I said, "Yes sir." He said, "Well this is what we're going to do." He told me exactly what he was going to do. He was going to get me my eye reexamined at Fort Ethan Allen and that the transportation would be provided for me and to report at such and such a time. And that was it, bang, gone. I went up to Fort Ethan Allen, went to the doctor there, doctor came from my home town. And he says, "What's the problem?" He says, "Well you got to be kidding me." He says, "During the Second World War with guys that were absolutely blind were in the infantry and they gave them two or three pairs of glasses in case they broke one and they sent them off into combat." So he reexamined me and passed me and that's why I had a 30 year career in the army. And I spent a lot of time, when they said I couldn't be in the combat arms, I spent a lot of time in the combat arms. So I tell these cadets don't give up and the fact is you can be anything that you want to be, you just work for it. SY: Now, Clark you had a question. It was about this canoeing trip right? CLARK HAYWOOD: (inaudible) [01:41:05] that you got to, as I would say, as a young guy, you got to hang out with Homer Dodge. So what was Homer Dodge like?26 RL: Wonderful guy, just a wonderful -- and he had to be in his 90s. All right, I was stationed in Washington DC at the time and I was working in the Pentagon. And I was elected president of the alumni club in Washington. And so my wife and I, we looked at what we could do to be interesting for the group, to bring him in. So I contact Dr. Dodge and asked him if I went down and picked him up -- now he was down in Pawtucket and Camorra, Cremini or something plantation. He had a beautiful home right on the Pawtuxet River, old, old home. And I said if we come down and pick you up and bring you up for the meeting and then take you home. Well that was like two hours down, two hours back. Anyway, he agreed to that. So my wife and I went down and he addressed the group. And by the time it was all finished, we got home at like one or two o'clock in the morning after driving him home. And he invited us to come back and spend the day with him. So we did. Now he was a canoeist. If you read his bio and that, he was a pretty serious canoeist. And at the age that he was, he was still canoeing. I couldn't believe it. And he had it all upstairs. He hadn't lost a bit. He had not lost a bit physically and everything else. And his stature, he wasn't a very tall guy, but he says, "Come on." He says, "I want to go in the marshlands along the river here and we'll go canoeing." So my wife and I got the canoe out and all three of us got in and he paddled us around and showed us all this marshland and things like that. And we just had a great time. And we had lunch together down there. And so that's how my connection with another president, he was president from 1944 to 1950, and then Ernie Harmon came in. And then Barksdale Hamlett I think came in after Ernie. And I knew him. And then it was Loring Hart. And then it was Russ Todd. Then it became Rich Schneider. I knew every one of these guys. I worked with them because of my association with the school. SY: So what about -- you've seen Norwich change a lot over the years. And how do you feel about the changes? Your alumni are sometimes very pro and very anti, it's interesting. RL: Well you have to realize that our society has changed. And when females came into the corps, well that was a big thing. Well at the same time I was working in Washington. And as I told you, women in the army, that's what I worked on. SY: So you did work on that? You worked on making that happen. RL: Yeah. I was briefing the generals. Remember I talked about those reports and I used to throw them on the floor to laugh because this was all the statistics they were providing because we were trying to integrate women into the army in certain MOSs by grade and MOS so there weren't any big bubbles, you see, because for promotion and everything else. And so this was a big thing that the Pentagon was concerned about. And they were getting a lot of court action, litigation. So we were an important part of the personnel system to make all this happen in a logical way. And that was where my commander because of the group I was leading gave me a special award and also recommended me for the Pace Award which was a very prestigious thing. I didn't get it, but the point is that he thought enough of me to recommend me for it. And that's what counts in life is that at least you get recommended for some of these things. But seeing that in the corps, so that didn't bother me at all because I had women in my battalion. And they were some of my best officers and best NCOs. Now I will say we did have some problems with women in the army and that was with -- and the only thing I want to mention here is lesbianism. 27 We did have issues of that. And that's changed too. You got to know what the period of the time was and the problems that we were confronted with which we hadn't confronted before. So they were new to us. So in order to be concerned about protecting troops and everything else, you had to reorient yourself. And that's the most important thing. The issue why I say that is to be able to be flexible enough to adapt to a new change and to be behind it and to understand it and support it. Now if you don't -- there were times where I don't agree with everything that happens at Norwich but at the same time I understand this is a big operation here. It's grown so much that the opportunities for these cadets -- they're busy all the time. All the opportunities are so much greater than what we had when I was going to school. And the other thing is that you've got civilians here too. And those are all different problems that you have to work through so there's no favoritism towards one body or towards the other. And that's why I say with a Colby symposium is that we have to incorporate the civilians as well as the military. So the subjects have to be such as that they relate to both sides. And therefore they interconnect and therefore what we're trying to do is enrich the student's experience. And what I say is think outside the box. You can't be just focused with blinders on. If you do that then you're missing a lot. And you're missing a lot in life too. SY: That might be a good note to end on. Clark, any other questions? CH: Yeah, do you have any anecdotes of any of the presidents that you worked with at all, just funny or anything serious that you learned, like insights from the past? RL: Well Ernie Harmon was -- he'd watch you from his window as you walked your tours and all that. He was gruff. He was fair. And I didn't have a lot of contact with him. The awards, the diploma, and when it was necessary. Other than that, you didn't want to have any experience with him from that standpoint because it might be negative. That's what you didn't want because Ernie, he was a tough guy, but he was fair. SY: Any interactions with his wife? RL: No, none. None whatsoever. SY: I'm reading her autobiography right now. RL: You're a cadet and you're talking in the 1950s. And we're isolated then because we didn't have '89 up here. And that's what I think -- that's what made our class just hang together, the comradery and the fraternities and everything else. And that's why I think even today with our class, we hang together. Maybe it's other classes. It just happens that maybe I'm looking at just my class, but then you went from there to Hamlett who was a gentleman. He only was here for a little while. I think he got sick or had cancer or something and left. So it was limited experience there. But then Loring Hart came in. Now he was my English professor. And I have to say that Loring Hart drew me back into Norwich, he did, because I was in the alumni club, but he says you got to come back to Norwich. And he used to stay with me when I was the president. He used to stay in our home, he and his wife Marylyn. And she was a delightful person. SY: I'm trying to track her down.28 RL: I think she died. She's passed away. Either that or she's in a -- SY: A nursing home? RL: Yeah, extended care. And I'll mention that in just a minute. But Loring Hart was an academician and at the time -- each one of these presidents that we're talking about was the man for his time. That's what they needed. And then of course they outlived their time and so then they bring somebody else. So Loring was the academician. I think he brought people together. He certainly was a favorite of mine. I used to stay with him when I came up for the meetings. That's because we were friends. And that friendship developed after Norwich, after I graduated. When Loring left and Russ Todd came on, Russ and I talked -- General Todd and I talked a lot because I was on the trustees at that time. And he was the right man for the time because of the military aspect, that's what they needed. But I will say this, that Rick Schneider when it was his time to do it -- and he's been here, what, 20 some years. He brought characteristics or elements of all the presidents previously you might say. And why I say that, maybe not in the intensity of an Ernie Harmon, but he came with his military background with the Coast Guard. Second was his finance background, which is a Godspeed because he understands that you can't do anything unless you have the money to do it. And that is a big plus in the atmosphere that we operate in today. He also is able to work with people. Therefore, he's been able to advance the university in certain areas. And he's given them the latitude to do that, where we've gotten more prestigious things that are necessary in a university. Now he's working on the campaign for the bicentennial which he knows that may be part of his legacy is the fact that he leaves the school financially better off than when he came in, which is a very important thing because if we're to perpetuate this for longevity, we need the financial endowment. A lot of big schools have these huge endowments over the years. But you got to realize that in the early years, even in the '60s and the '70s, there was a very small endowment. And there wasn't a lot of money being given. But after that with technology a lot of our graduates have done extremely well. And they've been very generous with giving back to the school. So that's an important element as we look at our history in the 20th century and now in the 21st century is how things have changed from that standpoint. The university's changed because of the physical plant, because of the civilian population. And yet we're still getting great admission in the cadet corps. So the core values of the university, the concept of citizen soldier, has got to be preserved because that's the main stay as far as I'm concerned of the university. And when I came to this school, I had no intention of going into the military as a career. I took business and I expected to go into the business world. SY: And so why do you think you did? RL: As I progressed, everybody had to go in and had a military obligation regardless. I don't know how it developed. It just developed. I was always one of these people who was willing to take on responsibility and I was a cadre member the whole time. I did well at summer camp. And I was involved with all of these organizations here. SY: You were good at it.29 RL: Well I was interested in it. I was interested, like the honor committee and all these committees. But the point being is that I did well so I had the opportunity to -- I was a distinguished military graduate. I had the opportunity to accept an army commission. And I said, "Why not? Twenty years, get my masters, and go out in the business." Well I got to that point where I had my master's and 20 years and I got promoted early to colonel. And I had young kids and everything. I loved the military. So I just stayed in for 30. But how did I get into, it was Norwich. I didn't have any intention of coming into the military like a lot of these young men and women come into the school today. I had no idea that I would spend 30 years in the army. But I had a great career. I had great opportunities, great assignments, and so you look back on your life and you say, "Gee, I've been lucky." But I have to say that I was prepared academically before I came to Norwich, how to study, because the grades are important. And Norwich developed me after that. I don't know what more I can say. SY: I'm worried about you catching your plane. RL: No, no, don't worry about that. I'll catch that plane. I know how to do it. As long as they don't ticket me for speeding. SY: I think we're good. Thank you for coming back today. RL: Well you can edit anything out of that you want. END OF AUDIO FILE

Issue 51.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1992. ; for religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universio,., by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the "Canonical Counsel" department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 V~;ashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Senti address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, anti additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY/JUNE 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents life choices 326 A Monastic Way in the World Theresa Mancuso tells of the monasticism she has found herself continuing to live now for ten years in New York City, ever since she left her monastery in upstate New York. 337 I Leap Back Over the Wall Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap offers reflections on his experience of reentering a religious community. 341 Why We Stay Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ presents a personal witness to a lasting commitment to the religious vocation. 347 When a Sister or Brother Leaves Melannie Svoboda SND offers personal reflections on the departure from religious life of a lifelong friend. transitions 356 The Integral Sabbatical Brian B. McClorry SJ blends the traditional sabbatical elements of coursework and reading with time in a remote wilderness and discovers the riches of the ordinary. 373 Using Ignatian Discernment Philip L. Boroughs SJ applies the Ignatian principles for discernment to a person in a time of transition. scripture and spiritual life 388 A Woman's Compassionate and Discerning Heart Mary Lou Cranston CND examines the compassionate heart of the. woman in 1 Kings 3 as a model for understanding discernment and its relationship to religious obedience and governance. 397 Peter's Characterization in Luke-Acts Lola M. Wells proposes that a unified reading of Luke-Acts provides a valuable portrait of individual discipleship. 3 2 2 Review for Religious 403 Petitionary Prayer in a Biblical Perspective John H. Zupez SJ reflects on the constant value of petitionary prayer especially through a more mature way of entering into our Scriptures. 408 Hasidism, Creation, and the Psalms Joseph Fichtner OSC, guided by the Hasidic tradition, finds in the Psalms an awe-filled creation spirituality alert to the Creator's presence and power. devotional life 417 Marian Spirituality and Apparitions Walter T. Brennan OSM suggests that the proliferation of Marian apparitions leaves us living in a gray area of pastoral judgment and practice, but paradoxically gray is full of color. 424 The Mirror Image in Clare of Assisi Sister Karen Karper develops how Clare presents Christ as the mirror of one's own deepest identity and its apostolic implications. charism and mission 432 Reclaiming Competence Theresa M. Monroe RSCJ indicates that some careful limits and boundaries would protect the creativity our times demand of religious institutes. 453 Restructuring William F. Hogan CSC points out that restructuring in religious congregations must balance the twofold need to maintain institutional essentials and to adapt to the challenges of the mission. 458 reflection Why Claude la Colombi~re? John A. McGrail SJ uses the canonization of Claude la Colombi~re to consider the roots and contemporary value of devotion to the Sacred Heart. departments 324 Prisms 461 Canonical Counsel: Voluntary Exclaustration 469 Book Reviews May-j~une 1992 323 prisms Pope John Paul II seems to be setting a record in saint making. In his various missionary travels, he frequently celebrates the ritual of beatification or can-onization of a woman or man recognized for holiness by the local people. Some are critical of this making of saints. "Out of step with the times," they say. Others just wonder why. We human beings need our heroes and heroines. The stories of women and men who have captured our minds and hearts because of their bravery, their dedicated service, their contribution to a more humane world have been told in every culture and in every age. The names change, the circumstances differ, but the inspiration for human living remains the same. We all seem to be searching for a glimpse or two of heroism not too far from home. Yet some fear or some reluctance appears to stifle, early on, our own desire for the heroic. Various factors may contribute to this reluc-tance. Perhaps pop psychology, too readily imbibed as Gospel, has made us too content with being the ordinary persons we are, too willing to be coddled into a generic self-esteem. Or when heroes are proposed, a mean spirit in us and in our culture may drive us to search out ways to cut these people back down to ordinary size . . . or less. Maybe such behavior flows from a poorly idealized pro-letarian spirit which is a communist residue in us all. Often it seems that heroes or heroines are quickly raised up and 324 Review fbr Relig4ous just as quickly forgotten. Perhaps our enthusiasm for their exam-ple and their deeds lasts no longer than the music or video of the moment. Then, too, we probably fear the disappointment of the hero or heroine letting us down; we surely fear the cost of hero-ism for ourselves. Despite such stifling factors or because of them, our need for inspiring heroism to permeate our everyday world in the living example of contemporary women and men remains. The vari-ous spiritual traditions in the church have been first enfleshed in the lives of women and men before they came to be written down as programs for the following of Christ. Life and ministry shone out in persons with names and faces before any rule or constitu-tions were formulated. There comes a time in every spirituality when structures or formulas or written theological treatises are essential if it is to become a heritage or tradition within the church community. A common way that particular spiritualities have been institutionalized has been through the foundation of religious congregations. Religious life does not exist as a generic reality, but only in particular embodiments, each with its own approved rule of life, an organized spiritual tradition. A religious rule of life, then, not only provides for the identity of a particular reli-gious family as a legitimate form of following Christ, but also ¯ brings that family's prophetic voice to the harmonies and coun-terpoints of the church on earth. The danger of any heritage arises when it becomes a tomb or sculpted sarcophagus, beautiful in its form, but containing disconnected bones devoid of breath. Only heroes and heroines make spiritualities live. Can people live heroic lives in an unheroic age? The answer obviously lies with us. No matter what our spirituality or her-itage may be, the people who embody it for us retain an impor-tance beyond a brilliant theoretical study of a particular charism or some wonderfully fashioned new constitutions. Saints, both old and new, hold out to us the promise that this kind of a fol-lowing of Christ is humanly possible. Requiring a little heroism, perhaps, but humanly possible. Our church and our world need heroes and heroines. Anyone of us who is serious about the spiritual heritage we try to live rec-ognizes the call within it to be heroic. To paraphrase Chesterton, it is not so much that heroism has been tried in our day and found wanting; rather, today we try so little to be heroic. .David L. Fleming SJ May-3~une 1992 325 life choices THERESA MANCUSO A Monastic Way in the World Into the darkness of a cold winter's night, I peer quietly from my third-floor window, reflective after the day's work. Gathering up my briefcase and tightening my gray woolen scarf close about my face, I leave the office and head up Lafayette Street towards the "M" train. This is the evening part of my daily routine, the trip home from work. Upstate far away the semantron sounds over halcyon hills of white birch. Monks and nuns make ready to answer the call of the monastery bell which will soon follow the hol-low rhythm of the semantron. Donning black choir robes, they will take their places for Vespers. Ancient chants will blend harmoniously with the whistling mountain wind as it purrs along the windows of the monastery church. Still living my self-imposed exile of a decade, I walk through the darkening streets of lower Manhattan as falling snow shimmers softly about the dim street lights. I hear down-town church bells chiming six o'clock. The old nostalgia rises as I hustle down broken concrete steps into.the cold, damp tunnel, far from the candlelight kingdom of my monastery home. The "M" train screeches into the sta-tion, jamming to a stop along the drab platform. Doors fling open and I rush to board, jostled by the crowd, my fellow travelers, all scrambling for a seat. Everything monastic, everything I love, is far away and long removed, Theresa Mancuso has been a member of an active religious order and of.a monastic community. She has published on wide-ranging topics 'including religious education, elder abuse, and criminal probation. She lives at 448 Seventh Avenue; Brooklyn, New York 11215. 326 Review for Religious but I carry it still in my heart. Here in the streets of the city or deep beneath them hurling through subterranean corridors on hard cold rails of steel, I ponder the Desert Fathers and the vows I made years ago while walking in their pathways. Every day, five days out of seven, I begin and end my travels at Union Street station in the underside of Park Slope, Brooklyn. It is a poor neighborhood unreclaimed by urban renewal. Trash and waste clutter its curbs and sidewalks, a place where immigrants cling tena-ciously to the fringes of hope that carried them from their homes in Ecuador, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, parts of Asia, Africa, and Eastern Europe. They work hard here and live hard, struggling to make it on Union Street. These are my neigh-bors and I am theirs. Amid the drama of daily life unfolding here with its stark reality calling me toward a new wisdom, I park my car and climb down the subway steps to board the train to and from Manhattan. Every morning and every evening my meditation begins and ends here, my earnest prayer rising from the cold and lonely street. The crowded train on weekday mornings teaches me much of patience and endurance. Pushing, shoving, sweating, shivering, they board, riders of this underground iron horse, travel-weary as they squeeze into place. Once settled, the subway people sink into watchful silence, hardly raising their eyes yet ever on guard. Destinies mingle here in this place where the sun does not shine and danger is always just a breath away. Muggings and murder are familiar specters in the New York City subway. The security of the monastery is a dream-like state, a fading unfamiliar mem-ory. There is no security here. Here one rides in the arms of Divine Providence, wrapped in total abandonment under the pro-tection of the Mother of God. There are no promises of personal safety in the darkness of this daily voyage underneath the city. I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. Some'read Scripture, openly holding a small Bible on their laps; some say the rosary, while others sit straight with hands folded in the perfect posture of meditation. How true ring the words that rise in my heart as the train rushes forward, "Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us." I often look about and see prayer happening on the faces of many fellow travelers. May-.~une 1992 327 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic V~ay in the IVorld Dirt and discomfort surround me as I call upon the assistance of the Holy Spirit to quiet my soul and prepare my mind to reflect more deeply on that which alone is nec.es~ary. In this, the most unlikely of places, I have learned to make my daily prayer. Well I remember the daily formula used in my earliest experience of religious life, when the superior commenced the community's prayer time with the words: "Let us place ourselves in the pres-ence of God and ask the assistance of the H?ly Spirit to make our meditation well." These words speak themselves in my mind as the subway train runs along the track. The harsh screech of iron wheels blazing along the curved track under the East River assaults my ears as my mind focuses on interior prayer. My eyes meet a kaleidoscope of society, fellow travelers scurrying like ants on their way to anyplace but here. They are part of the collage of prayer that rises in my heart. Sometimes I wrestle with truths of the spiritual life learned in the safe, secure society of robed monks and nuns and I try to apply those truths to today's society, neither safe nor secure. What is monasticism if not the road to repentance? And what is this daily voyage in the belly of the earth if not a journey of repentance? I study my companions .along t_fie way, for they will often teach me without saying a word. Busines~ men and women dressed in smart somber suits, their briefcases clutched with pro-found importance--their presence awakens me to the cries of sec-ular society. I watch students and tourists with backpacks loaded on their shoulders, leftover hippies with long hair tied in greasy ponytails. I observe ill-clad .teenagers late for school or playing hookey, perhaps, instead. The sea of humanity that ebbs and flows around me leads me deeper into contemplation of the Creator who knows them all, each by name, who reads the secrets of their hearts and hears their every longing. My fellow riders are of every race, religion, color, size, and descriptign. Together we hurl through tl~is iron tube deep in the belly of darkness. The homeless are here, too, dreary and desolate, fighting a daily battle with hunger, told, and desperation. They live on the subway trains or ride them until they are evicted, for here at least there is some warmth and shelter from the outdoor elements. Coffee cups are freqtiently extended in their dirty hands under hungry, sad, defeated eyes. What can they not teach me of poverty and penance? Indeed, I am embarrassed at the luxuries I knew in the monastery while they, the poor and dispossessed, not 328 Review for Religiog~ by vow but by reality, have perhaps not for one instant in a life-time known real comfort, security, or personal safety. They force me to reexamine everything I once took for granted. I count their sufferings in vacant eyes and in the biting fatigue on faces worn and haggard. They call me to deeper repentance without saying a single word, me who have enjoyed so much of what they lack. Outside the protection and security of the religious life, outside the shelter of community, I have come to new terms with reality, to understand at last what it really means to have no one and nothing but God. Sometimes the subway poor wander through the train speak-ing loudly, interrupting our smug self-centered silence. We are reading, we are thinking, we are silent; they are begging. They ask for change or a dollar perhaps if they feel lucky. But straphanger charity is always unpredictable. Accursed with misfortune, they ride side by side with the powerful and privileged while I, look-ing from one to the other, remember that poverty has many faces. I see it there, poverty, even among the rich, poverty of spirit and of morals, poverty of faith, bankruptcy of the soul. My heart is forced to consider the meaning of poverty in vows I took so long ago and the poverty I practice today, for after all some kind of poverty is essential to the monastic life. But everything is differ-ent now; I understand for the first time in my life the struggle for survival others must face. When I offer one of them the small and meager gift of a dollar or a dime, I know that I am here not for the purpose of teaching them but in order that I may learn. So different from the monastery classroom, this too is an education of the heart. When I left the monastery ten years ago, I fully expected to abandon forever the life I had known, for twenty-five years, the religious life. I thought I was headed for secular society, for free-dom and promise in a world without restrictions and restraints, away from the rigors of community life with all its pain and heartache. I came to New York City at the recommendation of the metropolitan. But, once here, I soon realized that I had only taken the nun out of the monastery, not out of me. All my experiments with other lifestyles served to teach me that monastic life was rooted far deeper and more intensely in my heart than I had ever dreamed. My spiritual journey continued 'far from the support of monastery routine, far from the view of the monastery community. May-.~une 1992 329 Mancuso ¯ ~1 Monastic Way in the World Indeed I found myself living alone the same monastic life I lived in the community. All I had read in years gone by concerning the Camaldolese in the West and ideorhythmic monks in the East began to make great sense to me. Could I survive spiritually as a monastic living in the world? I sought a spiritual teacher and could not find one. Then I found one, strange and unexpected, in New York City; not a per-son, but a phenomenon: this daily ride on hard cold rails of steel. The New York Subway System, harsher than the sternest spiritual father, pulled me from the gutter of despair in the dismal winter of 1981. It dragged me down the cold dark tunnel of despon-dency and forced me to choose between life and death. There I was forced to cling to God with all my might lest I fall from the subway platform by my own step and crash on the tracks below in the path of the roaring train. Ten years have healed that broken-ness. A new hunger awakened within me. A new spiritual jour-ney began as I recommited myself to the monastic way. My search for monasticism in the city led me to understand that what I needed was monasticism of the heart. I knew I could not go back before I grew up, and perhaps never. What I needed more than ever before in my life was an authentic spirituality, a genuine monasticism, for now I was a nun without a monastery, alone in a world I did not know or understand. My new cloister was the streets of the city; my new obedience, an obedience to reality and the obligations of survival. The cold, hard teacher I had found was the subway itself---with no name, no face, and no heart and demanding of me complete abandonment and total surrender to God. It spoke to me as surely as any spiritual teacher I have ever known. It spoke because my whole being was listening. I was searching with all my heart. That is what great spiritual longing does; it opens every fiber .of one's being. Then one can truly hear. At last. One listens best when no more escapes are possible. Every day, morning and evening, I found myself grappling with the mysteries of faith and reality, struggling to discern the presence of God in the secular world. The milieu of faith I had known in religious life and took so much for granted was far behind me now. I had to create one in myself if I was to retain a spiritual focus in my life. In the personless hands of this tutelage, there was no protection, no one to turn to, no arms to hold me faint with fatigue. Fear loomed up over the darkness of my soul like fog on the docks of South Street Seaport. In the beginning I 330 Review far Religiaus was angry, depressed and bitter. Confusion reigned where once I thought I knew my purposes. Conflict raged. Gradually, from daily meditation and interior prayer deep in the darkness of the earth as I traveled the subway system, there came the dawn of a soft, strong light which began to illumine the darkness of my spirit. I remembered words spo-ken to me long ago by my father when I was just a little girl: "There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." Slowly I regained perspective on the original purpose of my life, my spiritual journey. Is there, I wondered, searching my heart, the possibility of being an authentic monastic living in the world? And if there is, what shall it ask of me and how shall I answer? When the doors we have passed through are closed and locked behind us and those we have loved no longer speak our name, then indeed we must come to the truth or we shall surely perish. And if the truth should call us on alone, girded only with the armor of faith, with no assurances and no compan-ions to stave off the terror of the night, when there is no road back, we must carve our own road forward. When that which we have loved the most is forever lost to us, we must build a new tabernacle in the desert of the heart. This is the vocation of the monk or nun in the world. To bring to birth in the solitude of society an authentic monasticism of the heart, alone except for God and whatever he provides. Every morning I exit the train at Chambers Street and make my way up the subway steps. The stench of urine greets me, the first smell I perceive each day in downtown New York. I who love the warm richness of burning incense and the leaping flame of candlelight, I am thrust into this daily reminder of what is behind and what lies before me: the smell of the street and its treachery, the darkness of places where candles never flicker. I am Moses in the desert, forty years of wandering across the wasteland of Manhattan. Today I pass two Hasidim studying a subway map just outside the entrance of the train. One is bent with age, his white beard flowing over the collar of a shiny black coat. The other is young, unmarried, tall and blond with side curls fluffing out from under his black yarmulka and felt hat. They do not acknowledge me, a goy, though I pass within inches of their out- 'There is no night so dark that you cannot reach out and take the hand of God." May-~t~une 1992 331 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World spread map. On Centre Street a Chinese peddler opens a stall, displaying his wares on two small sidewalk tables set by the curb. He and his wife sell woolen caps, scarves, sweatshirts, and pants. Their breaths steam like smoke in the windy street. Here on the next corner the Italian sausage man has been standing for several hours beside his concession wagon. Smells of sausage and sauerkraut overwhelm me as I pass, for the day is very young. I walk behind two black lawyers dressed in gray three-piece suits. They are deeply engaged in conversation with a white woman, also an attorney. She wears herself proud, this articulate lady; achievement and prominence like her gold earrings proclaim her success in a man's world. They head toward the courthouse on Centre Street carrying their serious leather briefcases with an air of profound importance. I think about pride and power and humil-ity and powerlessness. I think about the righteousness of law. A thin young man, alone and smiling, dressed in woman's clothing, sits on the bench at Thomas Paine Park, quietly hum-ming to himself. He is there every day, all day. Across the street a tall Hispanic man, handsome in his faded blue jeans and tan hooded sweatshirt, keeps his post with hand outstretched. He entertains passersby, juggling several coffee cups and telling humorous stories. Is he a fool for Christ's sake, or has he only learned to play the fool in hope of an extra quarter in his cup? When the morning crowd has passed and rush hour is over, he slumps onto a park bench and does crossword puzzles until later in the day when he will resume his trade, the daily round of beg-ging. I walk on toward Lafayette and Leonard Street. A homeless woman pushes a grocery-store cart which contains all her earthly possessions. She is wrapped in layers of rags. Near the corner of Worth Street, I notice the old cab driver, an Irishman with shin-ing blue eyes and stubbly beard. He is retired now to a life of penury, another beggar on the streets of the city. He sits on the park bench combing white disheveled hair just as he did yester-day, just as he will do tomorrow. What monk weaving baskets in the desert or writing music in a modern monastery knows greater mortification or penance than he? Soon he will change his wet socks no matter how cold it is. In the rain, in the sleet, in the snow, or in the sun I see him every day, his stack of reclaimed newspapers beside him. I wonder if he ever thinks of God, or must he always worry about his daily bread? I continue down Centre Street and lift my eyes to read words 332 Review for Religious inscribed high on the courthouse faCade: "The true administration of justice is the firmest pillar of good government." I think a lot about justice. Justice, mercy, and charity. Righteousness and law. I think about the government of our country, the government of the church and that of monastic life. I wonder about politics in places where politics should have no place, the house of God. I wonder if the hand of justice can ever reach beyond the bound-aries of political alliances, those in the world and those in the church. Does the true administration of justice happen anywhere, I wonder, and if so, when and where? Who renders justice in real-ity? Is the government of the church and that of monasteries in particular built on true justice and charity, or is it linked to the power of a few who have pleased their superiors and risen to high places? Who are the recipients of justice? And I, when shall I learn to be just? When shall I have the courage for justice and charity? Crossing the street before the light changes, I ponder the plight of those for whom justice never happens and charity is but a word, those in the world and those in the church. Now I head toward the large marble building at the corner of Lafayette and Leonard Street. Its dark charcoal .walls shine in the morning sun. It is here on the third floor that I work in the New York City Department of Probation housed in the Family Court Building. It is time now to concern myself with matters of crim-inal justice: domestic violence, restitution, probationer miscon-duct, probationer drug tests. My tasks are writing and analysis. I lay aside my morning reflections and commit myself to the day's work. It, too, has something to teach me. In the monastery I baked cheesecakes and bread, I built cabinets and furniture, grew vegetables and cooked for the community. I tended guests and prepared the hospitality we offered to strangers. Did that work dif-fer so much from the work I do today? Was it more purifying to my soul or more pleasing to God than these hours before the computer researching and writing about criminal justice? Who can say that one is somehow more pleasing to God than another? Is it not the heart that makes the difference?. Everywhere there is something to learn. Often have I looked into the eyes of a pro-bationer, understanding that we are all on probation in this world, all of us facing the opportunity to change our lives or not, and the consequences thereof. Nothing, it seems, is incapable of teaching us if we pay attention with our hearts. This is the way it is, five days a week, every week of the year. May-.~une 1992 333 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Vday in the IVorM All about me are the signs God places in my path calling me back to himself over and over again. I gather up the fragments of the day, bits and pieces of reality, signposts and fellow travelers I have met along my way. I take them to my heart, where like candles they illumine the darkness of my soul. I pray for them as I pon-der what they have told me without speaking. I am jostled into awareness by the touch of their reality on my own. In seventeenth-century France a man named Vincent, now called St. Vincent de Paul in the Roman Catholic Church and considered by Western Christianity to be the universal father of charity, said to his first sisters--those early pioneer sisters in social service, for nuns until that time were always cloistered in monas-teries--" Your cloister will be the streets of the city and your chapel the parish church." On the streets of New York and beneath them, I have entered a new and different cloister, a spiritual one. It is not an enclo-sure; indeed, it is very open. Open to reality. Open to grace. The parish church is indeed my chapel. There in the sacred hours of Vespers and Divine Liturgy I come to understand what Vincent de Paul was talking about. It is a phenomenon of the last decades that numerous sisters, brothers, monks, nuns, and priests have left the enclosure of con-vents and monasteries and ventured forth into the world. For sure, many of them have completely turned to new lifestyles, abandoning the old. Some have married, others have entered paths altogether removed from that on which they first set their course. I am among another group, that of monks and nuns liv-ing alone in the world and striving to continue the monastic jour-ney started in community. Some may say that monks and nuns in the world cannot be monks or nuns at all. Perhaps so. Perhaps not. If monasticism is repentance and conversion of heart, surely anyone with goodwill who sets out on the path of repentance and conversion of heart is truly a monk, truly a nun. If monasticism is the search for truth and harmony in the universe, a search for God hidden beneath all the layers of reality that cover everything and everybody, then those who search are truly monks and truly nuns. If the habit does not make the monk and the essence of monasticism is seeking God above all things and striving to live the spiritual life with all one's being, then those who commit to this sacred journey--whether alone or in community, dressed in 334 Review for Religious religious attire or secular garb, recognized or not recognized by official ecclesiastical structures--are truly authentic monks and nuns. The riason of the choir is not suitable for the street, but the true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, ation. One need not live in a monastery to wear this authentic spiritual robe, and thus clothed on the inside of one's being, one is truly a monk, truly a nun. Yes, it is frightening to ~tand on the edge of the desert and know that absolutely there is no other way to pass. It is hard to go naked into the nigh.t of the spirit with no comforts, no road maps, no spiritual father or mother, no companions for sup-port or sustenance. Alone. This stripping, however, of everything we mistake for safety and security is the reality that makes us true monks and true nuns in company with those who have gone before us, the Desert Fathers of antiquity. I do not wish to compare one form of monastic life with and love for his cre- The true choir robe of the heart is purity of intention, single-mindedness in faith, humility before God, and love for his creation. another. I do not wish to contrast the merits of living in com-munity and living in the world. Rather, what I wish to ponder is the fact of the spiritual journey, the reality of the spiritual searcher whereve~ he or she may be. This inner journey never ends though everything may change. If we know that, whatever may have gone before us and whatever yet may come, there is no path for us but through the desert, no cloak for us but the mercy of God, no pos-ture but humility and repentance before his face, then we have sufficient knowledge to continue on the path. He will provide all that is needed. If we find ourselves aware that we have no road map, no comfort station, no companion to lighten our burden and cheer us along, how shall we find our way? Will fear and loneliness defeat us? Having lost or abandoned everything, the soul stands naked and empty in the face of its Creator. This is the moment of truth. Accepting our essential nakedness and littleness, we take our emptiness back to God. Kenosis. The outpouring, the emptying of our hearts. Everything we have done and have failed to do. We gather up the fragments of our lives and return them to the Lord. May-.l~une 1992 335 Mancuso ¯ A Monastic Way in the World Holy wisdom teaches us that everything lost in time will be recov-ered in eternity. Our task is but to seek the Master who calls us to the feast. Contemplating the mercy and terrible judgment of God, how shall we stand? Only in abandonment and complete surren-der, with no excuses and no demands except to pray: "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we for-give those who trespass against us." When all the rest is taken from us or when we, like foolish children, have ourselves run from our Father's house, have nothing, we may yet have every-thing, for only faith, hope, and love remain, "and the greatest of these is love." I wonder as I wander the streets and subways of New York if the monastery is not really everywhere and monasticism everyone's journey. Over a Garden-Wall at Bambous Mission Ile Maurice Can He be jealous that I hear the music of men's loves swirling whirling over garden-walls dancing through the moonlit trees around, swirling whirling once again and around and out, now carried on the evening breeze mingling with the rustling grass and palms and shyly whispering leaves, now ebbing flowing on the turning tide of salty scented ocean air? Can He be jealous? of me? of them ? Or does He too plainly see and hear the kernel of man's pain and loss and disillusionment they waltz about? And yet He holds me tighter. Cothrai Gogan CSSp 336 Review for Religious COREY S. VAN KUREN I Leap Back Over the Wall tth le 9c5o0n ~Me n° ~ iacf~ d aid ~ni ~y _Cehi rgOh~i~ leeadr s.h ~nr r!eLfl ;c~ o0~ eOr ~eeaV idff' she recounts in classic style what occurred and what she felt as she reentered a world she did not know because of her "hiddenness" in religious life. In the past twenty-five years, many religious have left reli-gious life, and most others have experienced enormous changes in it. Many books and articles have been written about the emo-tional, psychological, and anthropological realities involved in such changes. These writings run the gamut from leaving reli-gious life altogether to changing one's status in a particular com-munity tokeeping the same status in another community with a different history, ministry, charism, or geographic center. Lawrence Rywalt CP, in the September/October 1991 issue of Review for Religious, lays out in fine fashion the realities of what goes on with those who are changing their religious life by pass-ing from a "community of origin" to a "receiving community." Throughout his article he uses terms like "a time of adolescence" to describe the mixed emotions one experiences upon entering the unknown. It is somewhat understandable to this reader, as one who is presently going through this process, that these terms are more than somewhat awkward; they may be harmful if per-ceived to be negative. Not only is there a lack of a "clear" canonical process for Corey S. Van Kuren OFMCap is currently in the reentry program of the Capuchin-Franciscan province of St. Mary (New York-New England). His address is St. Michael's Friary; 225 Jerome Street; Brooklyn, New' York 11207. May-~une 1992 337 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall The cycle of leaving/reentry can and perhaps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. defining this reality of "reentry," but the rarity with which it is perceived and coped with, let alone talked about, makes the use of analogy the only way to discuss it. There are no terms proper to this process, so we who exp.erience it and those who must deal with us are forced to speak in analogy or struggle to invent new ways of speaking about who and what we are. (This is as frightening as was the experience of Monica Baldwin in 1950.) In my own case, the entry/reentry process has happened a couple of times. I first entered the Capuchin Order in 1973 and left in 1981 before ordina-tion. I returned for a short stint and left again. In 1986 I was ordained a diocesan priest and now am in a reen-try program with the same province of Capuchins. I firmly believe that the cycle of leaving/reentry can and per-haps should be perceived as a healthy pattern of living. It is only through the ongoing struggle to find God's will that anyone of us is going to reach sanctity, the goal of any vocation, religious, mar-ried, or single. We need to call the emotions and behaviors they involve by their real names, instead of trying to liken them to any other experience of change. Leaving religious life is no't like divorce, an analogy often heard. Divorce usually happens after prolonged experience of anger, hurt, or at least a clear realization of irrec-or; cilable differences. My own exp~rienc~ and that of others who have talked with me is that we felt, or discerned, that the life we were leading was not what we were then called to, if indeed we ever were called to it. This is not to say that the feelings of loss were not real for us or that we did not miss the people or perhaps even the structures that w~ left behind, but the negativity of such feelings that divorce usually implies was absent. Likewise, to term the process of reentry a time of "adoles-cence" because it might conjure up feelings 6f "anger, despair, fear, chaos, denial, bewilderment, and malaise," as Rywalt sug-gests in his third stage, casts a shadow on the reality of these feel-ings as healthy or as progress or as worthy of an adult. In any event, the expectation of finding such negative feelings is pro- 338 Review for Reli~ous claimed more strongly than any thought of the possibility of feel-ing joy, peace, and a sense of "coming home"--which seems, at least to me, highly possible for those in the reentry process. Just prior to my ordination as a diocesan priest, at a meeting with Bishop Frank Harrison of Syracuse, I revealed to him one fear I had, that I was not sure that I was not called to religious life as I had previously believed and that I might feel compelled to try to reenter religious life in the future. I felt it necessary to speak to him of this feeling before ordination, and must admit that I feared his response might be that I should postpone my ordination until I was sure. Not surprisingly (in looking back and having come to know Bishop Harrison better), his response to me was wise, fatherly, and helpful. In essence, he assured me that this feeling was no reason not to go forward with ordination, pro-vided I was sure that even as a religious my call would include ordained ministry. In addition he laid no claim to knowing what God had in store for him in the future, let alone what the same God had in store for me. The question remains for me: Should it not be possible to change, to move in and through the structures of ministry as we seek God's will, without enduring the analysis of our psycholog-ical motivation, having our behaviors monitored or judgments made about the health or sickness of our actions? It seems to me that as Gospel people we would at least admit to the possibility of a religious motive, the reality of the call. We are too quick to give over to the sciences that which is spiritual, God centered, and not bound by the analysis of science. Is it a bad thing for men and women to constantly try to dis-cern God's will for them? If occasionally this discernment calls for change in structure or movement in or out of structures, need these people be subjected to an analysis of their health, a ques-tioning of their motivations, or must they live with the stigma of being unable to commit? I cannot predict whether my reentry experiment will be sue-cessful in moving me to "profess" again within the Capuchin com-munity. It is my deep hope and desire that it will. However it happens, though, I will neither judge the community nor myself at fault. Nor will I subject myself to questions whether I am mov-ing or not moving through "healthful" stages of development in the process. Prayer, the grace of God through living the Gospel counsels in common, sacramental grace, and meaningful ministry May-June 1992 339 Van Kuren ¯ I Leap Back Over the Wall will be the reality that decides for me and the community if this reentry is God's will. I find that reality comforting and assuring. I do not want to degrade the proper role of the sciences in defining the realities of our life. But as Christians, as ministers, as religious, we cannot give them positions they do not deserve. They must be seen in the proper perspective, and that means integrated with religious, spiritual realities--not taking their place. The leap back over the wall takes as much grace and courage as does the original leap over the wall. That grace and courage comes from relationship with a loving and forgiving God. Religious find this in the lives and faces of brothers and sisters more than in the psychological and scientific analysis of what is healthy or in other comparisons. A leap over the wall--a leap back over the wall--is always a leap of faith. Antiphonal With joy and gladness we cry out to you, Lord: with love and laughter make our hearts sing today from sunrise to sunset. Wisdom of God, be with us, ever at work in us: guiding our hearts and hands; our thoughts, our words, our works. How happy are we who dwell in your house, 0 Lord, forever praising you. Maryanna Childs OP 340 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Why We Stay Aging, inadequate retirement funds, as well as the high cost of health care that paralleled and intensified these issues, were crises in religious life that Archbishop Rembert Weak]and of Milwaukee and the campaign inaugurated by the American bishops made public. This campaign aimed at bring-ing attention and monies to the plight of religious communities in America. It brought public attention to something else as well. Along with the assessments religious communities were making about themselves and the data provided by professional research organizations, it made plain that religious communities, with their median age then at 62 and rising, could be vanishing from the American culture. What to do? Get more candidates! Vocation ministry then became a recognized need in religious communities. These min-isters were given offices, cars, and money to explore solutions to this problem. What was once left to chance meetings of persons attracted to religious life now became a full-time occupation. When the problem did not get resolved with an influx of members, these vocation ministers started confronting both com-munity leaders and community members about their nonin-volvement in the process of attracting candidates. Religious communities then began to examine their collective consciences. Why are people not attracted to us anymore? Are we doing some-thing wrong? Are we no longer reflecting those religious values Eileen P. O'Hea is a Sister of Saint Joseph of Brentwood, New York. Presently she is working as a therapist and a spiritual director at Stony Lake Office Park; 2459 15th Street N.W.; New Brighton, Minnesota 55112. May-June 1992 341 O'Hea ¯ Why l~Ve Stay that attract people to want to live out the gospel in a religious community? Or have we been so coopted by materialism and our own needs that people see us as just another lifestyle with little connection to the holy and the truly religious? Or perhaps we are just not presenting ourselves, not advertising ourselves enough, not effectively reaching the public's consciousness? Not doing enough or not being enough to attract members was taken seriously by religious communities. But numbers of candidates did not increase. What religious communities found was that there were people "out there" who wanted to join them in prayer and gospel response, but not full-time. This gave birth to associate membership. These associates reminded members of religious congregations of the value and importance of community. They recognized, perhaps intuitively, that the joining of persons in faith and love is essential to the experience of realized love. Religious communities opened their doors and their hearts and found that the relationship between them and their associate members was mutually beneficial. Leaders and members of reli-gious communities latched onto this relationship as the hope for the future of religious life. This new hope was translated into a familiar organizational plan: designate a community member as director of associate membership. Give the person a car, office, and money to explore this undertaking. The beginning of associate membership brought a sigh of relief to communities. Many communities began to see associate membership as the answer to extinction. But, shortly after its ini-tiation, problems began to arise about how much "say" associate members would have in setting the direction for religious com-munities and whether they could vote for members for leader-ship positions or become leaders themselves. How much "say" would associates have about monies spent, or how much access would they have to these monies in time of need? Moreover, actual associate membership, however popular and good, is not weighted in favor of youth and vitality. Some of the individuals attracted to this membership share the same median age as the community with which they associate. Some of a dif-ferent age group visit for a while and then move on or are taken up with other commitments. Some, of course, stay and radiate to the established community their vitality, gifts, and deep spirituality. What Archbishop Wealdand did through the campaign he inaugurated was make thoroughly public what had been only 342 Review for Religious known in the privacy of religious communities. What happens to individuals when they finally express some fear out loud to a friend or therapist happened to religious communities. They could no longer deny or conveniently repress the facts of aging and dimin-ishment. When the private fears of religious communities were brought into the public forum, they became more real, more potent. The problems of aging, not attracting permanent membership, inadequate health care are realities known to members who have chosen to stay in religious life. These problems are compounded especially for women religious as they sometimes experi-ence themselves systematically oppressed by the institutional church. Women have been deeply hurt. In this ecclesial relationship, as in other personal relationships, the hurt can come only if the investment is deep enough. And it is precisely because their love for the church is so deep that women, as well as men, have experienced hurt from some of the structures, operating principles, and mind-sets of the institutional church and its representatives. Some of us have chosen to stay in religious life fully con-scious of the crises and dilemmas presented. Others have left for personal reasons such as fear about the lack of security religious life represents. Still others wrestle with the option of leaving as they look at the statistical data, their experience of the institu-tional church, and the logic of the situation. Some of the reasons people stay are very personal, some are theological, and some are mystical. My reasons for staying incorporate all of these and, I believe, represent some of the convictions and intuitions held by many. One of the sweetest gifts of religious life I have experienced is the friendships I have had and the bonding I have experienced with a group of women who are part of my community. Though I do not stay in religious life because of them, their presence is very important. If you could imagine us all standing in a circle facing a luminous light, dancing our way to that light, it would image this reality somewhat. We weave in and out of each other's lives in this dance of life, knowing the reality of the center and at times being that center of light for each other. Though I do not stay in religious life because of my friends, their presence is very important. May-~Zune 1992 343 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay The ones not in my immediate circle I know belong to another circle of their own intimate friends. We do not experience the light in each other yet. But our experience in community and our interdependence over the years have brought us from mutual rejection or intolerance to mutual appreciation of the differences between our personalities and mutual caring about each other. Someday, after my negative intellectual and emotional program-ming has been purified, I will know that they too are light. In the meantime I am surrounded by women who, at some level, value the search and desire to be one with God and struggle to live this out in their ministry and personal life. In the novitiate our novice director told us that we would be given a hundredfold return. I could not then imagin~ what that could mean, but reflection on the past years says that is so. Although my life has been difficult at points, especially through the sting of a celibate lifestyle, it has also been life-giving and full of wonderful people and experiences that belonging to a reli-gious community has either allowed or facilitated. And although I can point to oppression in the past (religious life, like marriage and other vocations, was evolving in its understanding of itself), today I experience inner freedom. In spite of, or because of, belonging to a religious community, I have come to some under-standing of myself. I have had the opportunity, through prayer and commitment to spiritual pursuits, to know myself as loved and to realize that my being and the Being of God are the same reality. Some days I am more conscious of this truth than others; some days my own egocentricity obscures it completely. My longing to be one with God drew me to religious life. Frequently I was disillusioned by members of my religious com-munity. Each hurt, each disillusionment, forced me to peel away another layer of a psyche torn between finding its happiness out-side itself in people and things or finding happiness inside itself. It was a bright moment, a moment of light, when a deeper self was realized, a self that found within her the longing of her heart and then began to make peace and love with the external world. That process continues. Religious life helps the process. The same wise woman of my novitiate also quoted the saying about putting one's hand to the plow and not turning back. It is another reason for staying in religious life. It is not a matter of logic or assessment of security needs. Staying in community is a stance of faith. In faith I believe that my original desire found 344 Review for Religious form through religious community. The form might change or dissolve or might mimic all living organisms and go through a disintegration period before being reintegrated in a new form. I wafit to be faithful to my original commitment, which is a com-mitment of right relationship with God, of knowing and discov-eri~ ng the essence of this relationship. The task of all forms, including that of religious life, is to give expression to a deeper reality. The reality of God is beyond form. The place of faith is standing with others, community members and friends, and fac-ing together the deeper reality and not being overwhelmed as the form does whatever it needs to do. To be companioned in faith and love at this level of reality is to mirror the light, life, and love of a God who is beyond form. When sisters and brothers stand together at this place of faith, we redirect the energies of the world from its obsession with form to the Reality toward which all form is supposed to point. The creative energy of God is what we see reflected in our material universe, but the ultimate call of all human beings is to go beyond ~he reflection to the source who is Life and Being. As groups of religious unite in faith, facing into and sharing in the c~nter who is Love, they acknowledge the interrelatedness of all p~rsons in a communion of being that is beyond form. Perhaps the apparent disintegration experienced by ?eligious com-munities is part of the nec~essary evolution all living organisms go through. Perhaps it is taking us to a deeper experience of real-ity- the Reality beyond form. We, in our age, have evolved to a point where we are con-scious of being conscious. We are teeter-tottering on the edge of a new shift in consciousness. Members of religious communities have made great efforts to join with one another and to remove the psychological and emotional blocks that cause us to see our-selves as separated from each other. We have made great efforts to know ourselves at our deepest level. As we discover this deep-est self, we begin to realize that God "is" the centered self--that we (God-I) ire one. The realization of this oneness is an experi-ence that cannot be contained. It cannot be restrained by the form that is our body or the form that is religious community. As we recognize our being "in" Love, we begin to experience oth-ers no longer as other, no longer as outside ourselves--or sepa-rated from us. This is the beginning of communion consciousness. It is a way of being with each other that is beyond form. May-June 1992 345 O'Hea ¯ Why We Stay Why do we stay in religious life? We stay because the form that is religious life is still pointing us to the Reality our hearts have longed to be one with. We stay because our companions have been faithful to us and we want to be faithful to them. We stay because the greatest adventure of all, the awakening of con-sciousness to Reality, is about to happen and religious community can facilitate that awakening. We stay because we recognize love here. We stay because we know God's faithful love and want to respond with love. We stay because the form provides, 'through the experience of community and ministry, relationships of mutual love and sharing. We stay because we refuse to be intimidated by fear and a lack of security. We stay because we have put our hand to the plow and want to fulfill our commitment. We stay because our lives and commitment are about faith. We stay because in community the experience of God as Trinity is being realized and manifested in relationships that are life-giving, loving, and mutual. We stay because our intuition tells us that the experience of com-munion consciousness is about the many discovering themselves as one. We believe that the evolution of religious life is moving us closer to this discovery. We stay because true identity is realized in the discovery of the mutual indwelling of our being in the being of God and others. We stay because we want to witness to the Reality beyond form. Silence I cannot say that I no longer sing for in my heart, the while my lips are dumb, my song I keep. I only know that words no longer come to break the silent singing of a thing that lies too deep. Florian Reichert SSJ 346 Review for Religious MELANNIE SVOBODA When a Sister or Brother Leaves All of us in religious life have seen some of our brothers and sisters leave our communities even after many years. The circumstances leading to such a decision are usually complex and unique to each individual. But one fact is simple and universal: a person's decision to leave religious life has an impact on those who "decide to stay." The stronger the ties that bind us together in a religious community, the greater the pain and con-fusion when such bonds are, for all practical purposes, severed. This article explores some of the pain and confusion sur-rounding one sister's leaving. "Sue" (as I call her) is not a "real" sister, nor are these direct quotes from my own "real" journal. Such a reflection would be too personal for me to publish at this time. It would also run the risk of violating the privacy of a par-ticular individual's decision to leave religious life. Sue is rather, a composite of a number of i'eal people who have left my commu-nity and other communities as well. And though this account is fiction in the technical sense, it is nonetheless, I trust,-very true. It is my ho~e that these reflections will resonate with the thoughts and feelings of o~hers who have experienced a friend's departure from religious life. She tells me, "I'm leaving." And she wants me to be one of the first to know, before "it's announced." I sit in silence and disbe- Melannie Svoboda SND, a regular contributor to Review for Religious, resides at Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. May-j~ne 1992 347 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Something is terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I cannot remember who. lief in the front seat of the car. For a few moments I can say and do nothing. I am not surprised. Not really. Hasn't she been sharing her struggles with me these past three years? Didn't I suspect even a year ago that her searching and questioning would eventually lead to this: the decision to go? No, I am not surprised. But I am numbed. At least momentarily. Finally I say, "Are you sure?" And in the dim light of the car I see her nod and pull out a tissue, and I know she is crying. I reach over to her-- awkwardly over the gear shift and try to comfort her. I say her name a few times, and then I start to cry, too. For several moments we sit like that--me with my arm around her shoulder. No words. Just the sound of our soft crying. After a few moments we both sit up straight and blow our noses. In unison. We laugh at that and the laughter frees us to talk. Unhaltingly, she tells me of her most recent talks with her spiritual director, of her meeting with our provincial, and of her plans to tell her fam-ily. Everything seems decided. Everything is in place. She will leave in two months--on July 1. One day short of the twenty-eighth anniversary of her entrance into religious life. Of our entrance. I try to listen to everything she is telling me, but my mind is still stuck back there on her first two words, "I'm leaving." At the end I cry some more. I feel her hand gently on my back. I say, "I'm sorry, Sue." She thinks I mean for my tears. But I don't. "It's okay, Melannie. It's okay." But I am thinking: It is not okay. Nothing is okay. And, I fear, nothing will ever be okay again. When I wake up in the morning, I sense: something is wrong. Terribly wrong. Like someone has died or something, only I can-not remember who. I turn on the light. My eyes wince from the assault of its brightness. As my head falls back onto the pillow, "it" hits me: of course, she is leaving. How could I forget? As I slowly crawl out of bed, I feel sick to my stomach. And I know it's 348 Review for Religious not something I ate, it's not the flu. It's the thought of her going away. Later this morning she calls to ask me how I am. She asking me! I say, "Okay. How about you?" And we talk a little more. But before she hangs up she says, "You know, you cried the most. Of everyone I have told so far, you cried the most." And then she adds, "Thanks." Thanks? For what? For loving you? I go to school and I am the cheerful, competent, organized teacher you read about in all the educational journals. But it is all a sham. Inside I am dying--only no one knows. Her leaving is an oppressive burden I bear alone--for now--in secret. But maybe that is good, I think. For as long as nobody else knows about it yet, her leaving has an aura of unreality about it--which eases the pain a little. For now. o~o o~o o~o o:o I have known her for over thirty years--since we were fresh-men in high school. We sat next to each other in homeroom that year, and I liked her from the very start. She was cute, funny, lively, and (above all) good. Although we were typical teenage girls back then, we were somehow comfortable with bringing God into our more serious conversations. We were both terribly idealistic back then. My idealism nour-ished hers and hers mine. Although we made the decision to enter religious life independently of each other, we obviously influ-enced each other greatly. One month after graduating from high school, at age eighteen, the two of us entered the novitiate of the Sisters of Notre Dame--together. I decide I am taking this whole thing too morosely. I tell myself: "So, what's the big deal, anyway? You are acting as if she has died or something. That's stupid! So, a friend decides to leave religious life. So what? People make big changes in their lives all the time. "So, she is leaving. Don't make it soUnd so awful. Gone are the years when we called such departures 'defections.' Do not try to figure out her decision. Do not try to understand it. Accept it. May-~une 1992 349 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves Accept her. Stop moping. She's leaving. But life will go on--for her, for you." And just when such logic makes such good sense to me and I resolve to accept her decision with greater equanimity, she calls me on the phone and, after talking to her for an hour and hang-ing up, I cry again. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. I talk,to Bob about her. He listens with concern and com-passion- as usual. He asks me all kinds of questions--about her, about me, about our relationship. And it is as if a dam has been broken wide open, and my words come gushing out like water. And I talk and talk. And in the talking I suddenly real-ize: I am celebrating her. Through my outpouring of words, I am celebrating her and our friendship. And it feels good. Then I tell him of my concerns for her, my fears. He listens attentively, gen-tly prodding with a question every now and then. And I am grateful, so grateful for this man who can elicit such an out-pouring from me and who is so respectful of everything I tell him. Finally he says, "You love her very much." A simple statement of fact. And I nod and smile at its obvi-ousness, and then I cry a little more and laugh, too. And later he asks, "Have you taken all of this to the Lord, Melannie?" And I stumble over my words, knowing I have not. At least not nearly enough. I tell Bob: "I keep thinking, 'God, if I love her this much, how much more you must love her.'" "That's good," he says. "That's good." And I leave Bob with a lighter heart and a clearer appreciation of my love for her-- and of my pain. And I wonder: When will I take all of this to God? Soon, I think. But not yet. I am worried about her. She is looking for a job now. She is talking about salary and taxes and insurance and getting an apart-ment. Almost all of our conversations these days are about her-- her and her plans. 350 Review for Religious It bothers me a little. Why? Do I feel left out? (I have plans, too!) Or is it that I want our relationship to return to an earlier form, to a time when our plans tended to coincide more? Whatever, I suggest to her: "The next time we get together, let's do something. Like go bowling or even to the zoo or some-thing, okay?" She says okay. I am relieved, for I am tired of talking about her, about "it." But as soon as I admit this to myself, I feel small and selfish. I do not understand her reasons for leaving. They are deep and go back many, many years. She still believes in religious life, she tells me. She still loves our community. And yet leaving us is something she feels she has to do. I do not understand, but I believe she has to do this. That belief makes her going easier for me to accept. o~o o~o o~o o.'o I loved her before we were Sisters of Notre Dame. I will con-tinue to love her afterwards, too. Yet I sense (and so does she) that there will be a change in our friendship--a significant change. After all, our shared commitment in the same religious commu-nity has been a vital part of our friendship. With that pai't gong, we are both wondering: How much wili our friendship be altered? And will the two of us be up to such an alteration? These past few days have been "guilt days." I keep thinking: Did I, as a friend, fail her? Is that why she is leaving? Maybe there is something I could have done that would have prevented her from making this decision. Maj'be .I could have been more sensi-tive, more caring, more supportive, more . Or did we as a religious community let her down? Is there something we as a community should be doing to prevent all these departures? Maybe we are overworked. Maybe we are focusing too much on ministry and not enough on each other. Maybe we are living the life all wrong.-Maybe., maybe., maybe. Bob says,"Youwomen really do get emotionally involved in each other~ lives." May-.~une 1992 351 Svobodu ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves I ask, "Don't you men feel like this when a brother leaves your .community?" "No," he says, "with us it is different. I do not think we feel it nearly as much as you women do." If what Bob says is true in men's communities, there is a part of me that envies men. But, then again, there is a part of me that feels sorry for them. Peg calls. She knows now, too. Finally someone in the com-munity I can talk to about it. "What do you think?" she asks me. And I tell her what I think. Then she shares with me her feel-ings. She is hurt. She is angry. She is worried about Sue. And now there is an added dimension to my own pain: seeing the pain Sue's leaying is having on others like Peg. But it is Peg's anger that takes me aback. So far I have not felt any anger, have I? Only hurt. Only worry. But now I wonder: Am I denying my anger? Am I letting Sue leave us too easily? Should I be fighting more to make her stay? Is my acceptance of her decision my way of lessening my own pain? Of easing my anger? I do not know what to think anymore. At the break at the meeting, Carol grabs me by the arm and pulls me out into the hall. "What's with Sue?" she asks brusquely. Not sure how much she already knows, I ask, "What do you mean?" Immediately I sense her irritation: (She has ne;cer been known for patience--or gentleness.) "Okay, Melannie, you can spare me the gory details. I know she is leaving. All I want to know is: Is she going to be okay?" I nod. "Yes, she is going to be okay." Carol seems satisfied--with that tiny scrap of information. I am amazed at how little it takes to appease hei', how little she wants to know. But maybe I am reading her wrong. Maybe she is just being extremely respectful of Sue's privacy. Whatever, she walks back into the meeting seemingly content. It was announced today. In a letter from the provincial. One brief paragraph. (Over twenty-five years of living religious life, and one short paragraph to tell the community of your leaving.) She 352 Review for Religious has asked for a leave "for personal reasons." Let us "remember her in our prayers," and so forth. How many times have I read such announcements? You would think I'd have gotten used to them by now. But I never have. I hope I never will. When I get the letter and read it, I cry again. How strange. I have not cried in weeks about "it." Why now? Then I realize: the announcement finalizes "it." There is no denying her leaving now, no turning back. It is a fact. And every sister in the community knows it now, too. o:o o:. o~o .:o Mary meets me in the hall, and I can tell by her eyes what she is going to say before she says it. "I just read the announcement about Sue, Melannie," she says softly. "And--and I guess I just want you to know: I am praying for her--and for you. I know it must be hard." She puts her hand on my shoulder. I smile. I say, "Thanks, Mary. Thanks." But two people are struggling inside of me. One is saying, "Yes, comfort me! Please comfort me!" while the other one is screaming, "Go away! I do not want your pity! Go away!" So, she is gone. Officially. Not completely, of course. She is still "connected" to us, for the church does not ordinarily permit a quick egress from religious life. Rather, it encourages a gradual one. She is still one of us, although living in an apartment now and working on her own. She will stay in touch with "us" by her contact with the provincial, with one of our local communities, and with a few of us, her closest friends. I tell myself, "She might come back. Some do, you know-- after doing what they have to do or whatever . " But I know in my heart: hardly anyone ever does. I call Sue. It has been weeks since we talked. The spaces between our conversations and meetings are getting wider, I notice. She is upset because she feels her leaving has hurt so many sisters. She knows some are angry with her. She says, "Why can't they see that my leaving is not an indictment against religious May-June 1992 353 Svoboda ¯ When a Sister or Brother Leaves life or their decision to stay? Why can't they just accept my deci-sion?" I say something like, "Well, maybe you have to give them more time, Sue. After all, you took years to make your decision. Now give them time to work through accepting it." I see Bob ~again. He asks about Sue. "Have you begun to deal with what effect her leaving is having on you personally--and your own commitment?" "Not really," I say. "I think I am still wallowing in the pain of losing her. And I am still too worried about her to think too much about myself. And I am so busy, too." ("Mercifully busy," I think to myself.) He listtns attentively and then says, "That's okay--for now. But it will come, you know. Sooner or later. You will have to deal with it: your own decision to stay." I know he is right. At the community meetings this week, I miss her very much. I expect to see her in the hall, to have lunch with her, to laugh with her. Only she is not there. Afterwards I call and talk to her, but I do not know how much of these community meetings to share with her, how much she wants to hear about what "we" are doing. And I sense I am beginning to see her as no longer a part of that "we." If only she were more sure of herself. If only I saw more direc-tion in her life, more certitude. But she still seems so direction-less, biding her time with this temporary job, still searching for who knows what. Everyone asks me, "How is Sue doing?" And I never know how to respond. If I say, "Fine," that is a lie. She is not fine. She is confused, lonely, and struggling. But if I say, "She i~ having a really hard time right now," that is misleading, too. It makes it sound as if she has made a mistake in leaving us. So, not knowing how to respond to their inquiries, I usually end up saying, "She is okay--but it is hard, you know." And my 354 Review for Religious voice trails off, and I think I have communicated the truth as well as it can be communicated. I love her. I care about her. I miss her. That is all I am trying to say, God. These jottings are perhaps too focused upon me and not enough upon her. But I entrust even that to your love as I try to entrust all things--especially Sue. She leaves. I stay. Why? Forever I have never lived in forever. ? where love is always and night never comes. Tonight, as I crawl into the arms of your Love, God, the idea of lasting forever causes a shudder thru my being. I have never known forever. ? here, everything ends. Day ends when night comes. and Yesterday is different from Today or Tomorrow. Here nothing is always the same. As I lie here thinking of your Love that lasts forever, two pains f!ll my being-- fear and desire, because I who had a beginning will join You in life unending. I have never known forever. ? Vowed to You, I promise to persevere unto death. Should I not say, ". into life"? Claire Mahaney RSCJ May-j~une 1992 355 BRIAN B. MC CLORRY The Integral Sabbatical transitions I woke very early on a June morning, restfully uncertain where I was and so checked the surrounds with interest, coffee and cigarette in hand, looking for a sound, geo-graphical answer. The sunlight was bright, the landscape clear: Holman Island, Northwest Territories, Canada, some three hundred miles inside the arctic circle. The third and final part of my sabbatical had begun. Holman seemed a far cry from the Jesuit Renewal Center in Milford, Ohio, where the sabbatical had started, a far cry from Cambridge, Massachusetts, where I had spent a semester at the Weston School of Theology. It was all a far cry from Leeds, England, where I had been Catholic chap-lain for the University and Polytechnic. Both in Cambridge and Milford I had been mildly surprised at the number of people, mainly religious, who were also on sabbatical. No doubt there is a tendency for sabbatical people to frequent the same watering holes when they are not wandering the earth visiting their con-gregation's communities. Sabbaticals are now common among religious, and in the religious press sabbatical pro-grams are widely advertised. The sabbatical now seems to be an unexceptional part of religious life in much the same way that, for some congregations, the tertianship--a kind of compulsory spiritual sabbatical--is an integral part of formation. This is clearly a new development. Brian B. McClorry SJ writes from Manresa House; 10 Albert Road; Harborne; Birmingham B 17 0AN; England. 356 Review for Religious In the 1960s sabbaticals were primarily a way of dealing with problem people or people with problems. It was, of course, a moot point whether the problem belonged to the persons involved or to their congregations. These sabbaticals were, in part, ways of responding to developments which were unforeseen, confusing, and frequently unwelcome. Sometimes they were mainly thera-peutic or disciplinary. There is likely to be a healing element in many sabbaticals, but it is right to allow sabbaticals a valid exis-tence on the far side of therapy. Recently the sabbatical has been reintroduced as a disciplinary measure by congregations and Roman authorities in an attempt to save an order or an ortho-doxy felt to be imperiled. Again the question remains whether it is the person or the institution that stands in need of a sabbatical. This, however, is not a question I will discuss here. There were and are "problem," "therapeutic," and "disciplinary" sabbaticals as ' well as those associated with academic work. But none of these is unexceptional and integral to religious life. The integral sabbat-ical, however, is new. Of course it may well be asked how integral to religious life sabbaticals really are, even at a more or less empirical level. Neither all congregations nor all religious make use of them. Indeed, when taken, not all sabbaticals are greeted in a sufficiently sabbatical fashion. There is the itch to justify or to decry, a ten-dency to view sabbaticals as a reward, or a vacation, or as a debt to be paid. That there are many kinds of response to the statement "I am on sabbatical . . ." is sufficient reason for discussion. Moreover, if religious make widespread use of sabbaticals, the diocesan clergy in the main do not. There are regional and denominational variations. Sabbaticals are commoner among diocesan priests in the United States than in England; the Methodist Church in England has a policy and a provision for sabbaticals whereas Roman Catholic dioceses in England do not-- except in a very negative sense. The questions raised both by sab-baticals and their absence are of widespread interest. In what follows I will try to examine way~ of understanding the "integral" sabbatical, using my sabbatical experience as a kind of case study. This approach inevitably will be limited, but not inevitably limiting. There are no absolute anecdotes: individual cases are also part of our social, cultural, economic, and religious history. Most serious questions will be left decently unanswered on the ground that closure is ordinarily premature. May-d~une 1992 357 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical Timing and Validation One clear and important element in evaluating and preparing for sabbaticals is timing. Scriptural tradition designates every sev-enth year as a sabbatical year. The British province of the Society of Jesus provides for h sabbatical ten years after tertianship. Having a policy, provided it is not applied woodenly, allows indi-viduals to have and to plan for sabbaticals. It also allows the con-gregation to suggest them more easily. It is at the level of policy that the question of justifying sabbaticals emerges with particular force. Are sabbaticals.justifiable? As with many questions, this one is best approached not directly, but through the categories which are found helpful in discovering the kind of thing a sabbatical might be. There are, of course, lines of thought in the scriptural tradition. Originally the intention behind the sabbatical year was to give rest to the land, the vineyard, and the olive grove. This rest would give the poor and the wild animals a chance to eat (Ex 23:10-11) and allow debts to be remitted (Lv 15:2). There would be no scarcity, for the "sabbath of the land" itself would provide enough food (Lv 2 5:6). The help given to the poor was not to be confined to the sab-bath year (Dt 15:9), for this sabbatical value was of permanent importance and validity. What is involved here is a careful knowl-edge of the land, plants, and animals--and the perception that the workings of the economy both damage these and do violence to the community. People are squeezed out and forced into the powerlessness of debt. The sabbatical year is a piece of positive discrimination and a recall to the tru~ values and creative origins of the community. Parallels are problematic, but it may make sense to view the contemporary sabbatical in these terms rather than as intrapersonal refurbishing or as an opportunity for gain-ing skills or knowledge. To leave for a time the work we do may well benefit that work (there will be, it seems, no shortages), and both the work and the workers may recover their creative ori-gins. We may begin once more to perceive whfit is demanded and who is excluded both in our work and in our societies. In this sense a sabbatical may be an effective symbol of grace and faith, of justice and peace. The link between "sabbatical" and "sabbath" is obvious. Whether or not this is the beginning of a line of thought in favor of the "integral" sabbatical, the question of timing remains. Timing is not simply a matter of administrative convenience or 358 Review for Religious possibility, nor is it only a question of calendars, frequency, and opportunity. Some years ago I had a particularly trying period of ministry in a poor inner-city area. The ministry failed. The team failed to work together--a failure in which I was implicated deeply. Eventually the project was closed. I was hurt, angry, and had come to the end of the road. The off-road terrain was hardly visible. I scarcely believed I had energy enough left to start afresh any-where and so began to dally with the seductive idea of a sabbati-cal and its promise of escape. Fortunately my provincial suggested that I return to university chaplaincy work--a ministry I had known and liked. To my surprise I agreed quickly and easily and, in the event, found to my delight that the energy and interest were still there. The work therapy worked. After four years, how-ever, it became clear that my old and easy patience with under-graduates was wearing thin, that I wanted to spend my time with faculty, ecumenical questions, and issues affecting the institutions themselves rather than with students. It was not the end of the road, just time to go. Then the idea of a sabbatical reemerged, tinged with excitement, less seductive but more promising. The sabbatical promised to be less therapeutic or escapist than it would have been if taken earlier. It would be more positive, an affair of discovery. Sabbaticals are "integral" in more ways than one: they are better timed the more they are at one with the positive move-ments of our life stories and not just snagged on fragment.s of these narratives. Better timing, it seems, might also lead to a bet-ter content. Content and Desire Academics on sabbatical might well do research, though many academics speak of sabbaticals in terms not reducible to academic research. Nonacademics also might want to do research, to con-template steadily or ferret away busily in some area which comes into view as life-giving, deeply interesting, part of the emerging oudines of a mysterious but attractive future. On occasion it makes sense to learn skills that can be put to determinate use. Sometimes it is better to do woodwork. Clearly the content of a sabbatical varies indefinitely and could even include the possibility of a care-fully mixed cocktail. I wanted to have time, space, and the right environment for reading and writing. So much was a felt need. I also wanted to follow a program in spiritual direction. For many May-June 1992 359 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical years I had given one or two directed retreats a year and won-dered what, if anything, I had learned from the experience and what, if anything, I imagined I was doing in this ministry. It seemed that retreat work of some kind was a likely future. For me woodwork was not a serious contender--although I can almost smell the i:eel of the grain. Behind the question of content--what, after all, shall I do?- there is the matter of imaginati6n and desire. What do I really desire? How free or frozen is the imagination that shapes our conscious desires? What are the desires that might free or freeze our imaginations? It does not do to link desire solely with what is conventionally good, for there is more to good than convention supposes. It does not do to mold imagination only by pi'agmatic realism, for realism can imprison as well as free our imaginations. Desire is a matter of discovery and strange meetings: a geography of uncertainty and power. Maps for desire do not exist, for it is a contemplative heuristic, a medium in which mystery is disclosed. It is not, however, an infallible heuristic. A year before he died, a friend who had many desires told me, "I have never known what I really wanted to do." Desir~ is not exhausted in the desires we know we have. In Genesis the naming of animals is, in a strange and unfem-inist narrative, part of a search that culminates in the joyful, real-ized completion of creation. God brings the animals to the man to see what he would call them (Gn 2:19). To stay long enough in prayer so that completing the sentence "I want." is done iri God's presence is to begin to name those elements of ourselves and our world which God brings to us for naming. We may name what is incomplete or destructive in us, or what lacks integration in our lives. In this naming w~ may be set free of what possesses Us, an exorcism in which the demons, if they return, have no real power. We are freed from d~fensiveness and become less timid. Alternatively, we may find that we name our positive desires and find in this naming that the truth of our seeking and welcoming is revealed. In both cases the disclosure of the God who, in Christ, dream~ with us brings with it freshness and discovery. The con-tent of a sabbatical, however practical or impractical it may be, is also to be discovered, found out, stumbled across, given. The content of a sabbatical should resonate with or express the desires we discover in us, desires which at the same time help us find out what a sabbatical--or a life--might be like. 360 Review for Religious Even though my imagination was thin, my desires were real enough: an intern.ship in spiritu, al direction at Milford and a semester of reading at Weston. I felt there was much to be dis-covered in the course of these programs that would be enjoyable and useful. I did not envisage any discoveries jolting my paradigms. At Weston I would go on a light diet and look for space. There were, however, some four months of the sabbatical which were as yet undetermined. The "third world" was not a strong contender. I had recently spent a hard but exhilarating summer in Guyana and, years before, had done my tertianship in India. A journey to Zimbabwe or to South Africa always remained a possibility. Whatever the status of my gawky ratio-nalizing, the truth was that I had no particular desire to go to the third world. I found I wanted to go to northern Canada. The experience would be new, which is one value in sabbatical planning; but it was the desire to go, rather than arbitrary novelty, that mattered. Certainly I wanted to be far from known places and defined expectations; there was the lure of the north with its sparse and spacious environment and its rather specialized attractions of ice and snow. That world would have a different scent: snow alters aromas. The Canadian north had always been attractive to me, and once or twice I had sniffed at its fringes. But although the desire to go was clear, its rationale was elusive, mysterious. It had to do, I thought, with going to a large, remote, and cold place in order, paradoxically, to unfreeze my imagination and creativity. The north was the right environment for that kind of event, in some sense the necessary place. Moreover, there was the remote but dramatic possibility of spending time in the Canadian arctic. I liked the dramatic frisson, expected something to "happen," and found that the prospect enhanced the attractiveness of the sab-batical as a whole. It gave a sharp edge to the enterprise and I looked forward to that edge. I got out maps and wrote to bishops. The desire had emerged and persisted. The provincial concurred; the bishops in the north agreed. So much for the discernment. I write, of course, after the event--with the heightened accu-racy and inaccurate overclarity which marks retrospectives. Sometimes, however, the content of a sabbatical is found largely Sometimes the content of a sabbatical is found largely in retrospect. May-3~ne 1992 361 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in retrospect. Characteristically I planned my sabbatical carefully. I was not going to drift into a sabbatical and discover afterwards that a sabbatical is what I might have had. My time would be spent well, responsibly, even originally. But planning has its times and seasons, and for many "planning" and "exploration" are hyper-active metaphors better replaced by "contemplation" and "wait-ing." A friend of mine spent the first three months of a sabbatical year waiting to see what he wanted to do; another spent some months after his sabbatical finding out what he had done and what his desires had been. It seems that the justification of sab-baticals and their content lies in the mysterious priority of desire and imagination rather than in efficient planning and declared good intentions. There is some need for discernment of desire and imagination, for neither whim nor designer image is a suffi-cient guide. Conventionally, the value of a sabbatical rests on enhanced skills, published research, a revitalized person. The generous mea-sure of truth in these pictures--which do express something of our desires--should not obscure another dimension. Sabbaticals are in some respects like parables.~ Jesus' parables carry many meanings and so have a capacity to interact in many and new ways with our lives and cultures, Sometimes the parables break under their own realism--ninety-nine sheep are left unprotected in the course of the search for the one which is lost. The parables both disjoint our ways of looking at and being in the world and open up new and energetic possibilities. On this basis it is mean-minded to settle effectivelyon one allowed description of a sabbatical, for example, "study leave." What matters is that sabbaticals are allowed to become parables, polyvalent narratives whose realism does not determine the story. Milford and Cambridge It is a commonplace that programs in spiritual direction include much "listening." Accurate, active, contemplative, prophetic, and holistic listening--with individuals and in a group--are all elements in a conversation. They are ways of dis-covering what may be going on in prayer or life--ways of finding a path that fits and may.lead somewhere. No doubt I learned and relearned some skills at Milford and welcomed the lines of inquiry and interest which these engendered. Such learning, however, is 362 Review for Religious notoriously not neutral or unaffecting. Listeners listen also to themselves; and, when they become conscious or aware of what they hear, there is the possibility and gift of a transformation which is not reducible to the addition of skill to skill. So I found, in a time of surprise, a change in me which was about trusting and expecting more from God. The coloration of my world shifted, its shape altered. The world I stepped into was a friendly place and the friend-liness was to be trusted. This perceived feature of the world was not a purely intrapersonal shift. Nor was it entirely an empirical affair. My father moved from house to hospital and from hospi-tal to a retirement home with his memory impaired. I returned to England for a few weeks to help the moves and to sell the house. The Gulf War started unbelievably and ended with unseeing cel-ebrations. Ten feet from me in a bus in Boston a man was shot in the face on Good Friday. But the world was friendly because God was in the world and the world was in God. This discovery did not invite me to rush into developing a theodicy or to reread the old ones, to put together friendliness and unfriendliness. If there was a theodicy, it would be rooted in, among other things, a complex attentiveness to the world, which was in God, and to God, who was in the world. Both the friendliness and the unfriendliness of the world called forth the look of friendly regard. This, the grace-ful face of panentheism, seemed new--a well-remembered face seen as if for the first time. This friendliness connected with specific matters in spiritual direction. In the language of Ignatius's Spiritual Exera'ses, I became better able to trust "consolation" both in myself and in retreatants. God, after all, relates to consolation and desolation in different ways. The relationship to desolation is real but entirely provi-sional; what characterizes God's action is consolation. In this friendliness it also became possible to sit happily with my igno-rance when giving spiritual direction. "Not knowing" was nei-ther a fearful void to be filled nor an affront to be denied. It was not an affront to competence but a resource to be tapped. To sit with ignorance was to be in danger of finding out, with the part-ner in the conversation, what good thing was happening, what shape hope might take. Such changes in ways of looking at and being in the world are at one with the Old Testament tradition on sabbaticals: a recovery of creative origins. They may happen in the staid, sup- May-d~une 1992 363 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical portive, and challenging world of the Jesuit Renewal Center-- although Milford, Ohio, is not a location which of itself provokes radical insight. (Sometimes it seemed that many areas of our planet are invisible from Ohio.) But changes may also require places or environments which are marginal or shocking. A friend of mine spent most of his sabbatical working in a refugee camp in Thailand. What can be hoped for, wherever we go, is that changes include but are not restricted to intrapersonal health and survival. They will also include the world in which we ordinarily live but have only partly discovered. We may also hope to accept and to find that we do not control the narrative of the sabbatical--nor does the institution or environment in which we find ourselves. Such hoped-for changes, as in the Old Testament tradition, do not need to be confined to the time of a sabbatical, but can have a more permanent validity. With some loss of narrative control, I spent a few weeks in Montreal and Quebec City writing fiction (short stories in which I struggled with and for the narrative) before descending on Cambridge, Massachusetts. The semester at Weston was to be reflective: a few seminars for social reasons and an amount of reading. There was much to delight in, from Erich Auerbach's Mimesis to Annie Dillard's Teaching a Stone to Talk. The reading mattered. Someone said that Annie Dillard's writing evidenced "an amoral hospitality to experience." What price could the dis-cernment of spirits fetch here? Auerbach's literary criticism dis-tinguished a high style, quite divorced from the ordinary life of undistinguished people, from a style, also high, which found won-drous significance in commonplace lives and circumstances. If Milford was about trusting God in a world in which consolation and friendliness were to be trusted, Cambridge was about doing that in the ordinary present--the place where true hospitality lies. For some periods of time I had felt (often with good reasons) that there were important things to be done which were not real-izable in the job I had, the place I was in, the circumstances in which I found myself. Matters were unsatisfactory. Something of this feeling is, perhaps, an occasional inevitability. Life is unsat-isfactory in different ways and at a variety of levels. But a gap can open between the present and the significant future which robs both of any real value. Of a character in Raymond Chandler's The Big Sleep, the narrator says, "He was looking over into the next val- 364 Review for Religious ley all the time. He wasn't scarcely around where he was." The gap, of course, is about faith as well as presence. There can be a belief in a "god within" who does not welcome the present and a belief in a "god without"--usually absent from the present--in whose future greatness is promised. These two gods are awkward little idols who are not on speaking terms, but who conspire to augment the discomfort of the believer. In the disappearance of the gap between the present and the significant future, there is the loss of two idols, of two gods, and a being found by the one God. Monotheism turned out to be a very powerful affair. The disappearance of the gap, the exiling of the idols, helped me to let go of some things I would never do, however grand the significant future and the pointed present. This was not asceticism or realism, that doubtful consoler. In friendliness and free from the idols, I found there was no need to package myself, to tie up in well-wrapped parcels who I am and what I do. I become pack-aged for reasons of defense and success. But these energy-con-suming activities turned out to be not only harmful but also, and more importantly, unnecessary. The fears that provoked packag-ing became heavily relativized. John Macmurray has a striking remark about fear: The maxim of illusory religion runs: "Fear not; trust in God and he will see that none of the things you fear will happen to you"; that of real religion, on the contrary, is "Fear not; the things that you are afraid of are quite likely to happen to you, but they are nothing to be afraid of.''2 There may well be matters about which it is right and proper to be afraid, but the fear that provokes packaging turns out to be wonderfully otiose. What emerged in Cambridge and had been emerging in Milford was a new sense of integration or fit, not only in me but in how I am present in the world. I preferfit, with its sense of a curve fitting spot readings, a trail in the wilderness which finds the nature of the landscape, a saying in a conversation which res-onates and reveals. "Integration" is a touch static and inward. The appearance of the fit had precisely the quality of exploration and discovery--exploration within and, at one with that, explo-ration of the world. A man lies bleeding in the aisle of the bus, sol-diers pray for peace as the Gulf War ultimatum runs out, people have the glow and the shock of the Holy Spirit on their faces, the books are in the library, the seminar sparkles, and the cold May-June 1992 365 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical in Quebec City gnaws the bones by the frozen St. Lawrence out-side the first Jesuit house in Canada. In all of this idols vanish, the world has a new curvature, and God dreams and surprises. Sabbaticals are times for heralded and unheralded exploration and discovery. These are prime sabbatical hopes and valid extrasabbatical values. Going to northern Canada, to the remote places, seemed like an appropriate continuation of this journey. It had also the character of a celebration. Yukon and Northwest Territories From one point of view, I went north in order to "supply" in parishes and on mission stations. It would be a time of much trav-eling and short stays. As the sabbatical proceeded and the time for departure drew closer, I found that what I wanted was simply to be in the here and now, in that environment, with those people. To be present in a friendly, contemplative, unpackaged, and reflec-tive fashion was what mattered. I did not want to undertake a study tour or become a tourist. Nor did I want to stay in one place "working" or creating a proactive availability. For this period, rootedness was not a value. Staying wherever the bish-ops3 suggested would keep me free of programs, encourage a being present which had little predetermined character--and yet would allow me to give myself and others a ready and real account of what I was doing and why I was there. Performing a small ser-vice was a satisfactory blessing and a gift I needed. I also wanted to look at the landscape and to see what hap-pened when I looked. The environment, I thought, would announce itself in ways which could not be honored simply by going for a walk. From this viewpoint people were secondary, but there is an environmental dimension inseparable from human life and it seemed that the native people would be at one with their environment. That people were secondary in my immediate inter-ests was not a dismissive attitude. So I looked at the landscape-- from the ground and from the air in light planes. In Yukon Territory it turned out to be difficult to look steadily at the moun-tains, valleys, lakes. What was there remained veiled by a prodi-gal facticity, and I had to set myself repeatedly not to turn aside. To sit' with this ignorance was also difficult. "This coast is too beautiful," said a man in the Vancouver airport to a friend; "get me another beer." Eventually the season of looking (after winter 366 Review for Religioto and before summer) itself turned out to be curiously privileged. The mountains disclosed more of themselves when their features were picked out by a light snow cover than when blanketed by heavy snow, or as free of snow as they might be in the late sum-mer. All seasons are privileged and so--also and therefore--was this present time. Eventually it became possible to see shapes, colors, and variations--to pick out the crude outlines of the geol-ogy. At what seemed an infinite cost, it became possible to look steadily. The startling landscape and harsh climate provoked ques-tions. Although the land is beautiful, some of the "southerners" who have come to stay cannot tolerate the winter isolation and depression. The land is wonderful and the energy people expend relates them closely to the environment; but mining marks the landscape. The slag heap grows huge in the middle of the valley by the mine in Cassiar; the tailings continue to mark the Klondike. But in Elsa, a ghost mining town, there is no human activity. The trees, lynx, and martin--the original inhabitants--are beginning to reclaim their territory. To what does this expenditure of energy and ingenuity relate? Sometimes--often--the energy is not expended. Without employment the choices seem to be contem-plation, alcoholism, activism, or hibernation. But the southerners who come and stay--or who return with regularity--seem to be larger and more significant than I imagine they would be if they had remained "outside." It is as if the landscape gives them value and importance or allows their significanFe to emerge and flour-ish. Some come north for a time of healing or to step away from unaccommodating circumstances; others are on the run and bring their pursuers with them. At best there is more than eccentricity and escapism. Lives are lived with old values brought from the south which are given room and enhancement by the land; new values are recognized and welcomed in small towns in the moun-tain wilderness. Strong views coexist with tolerance, showing a respect for people similar to the necessary respect for the climate. At times there is scant respect for environmentalists, who are seen to have a relationship with the country and the animals which is thin and unreal compared to that of miners, hunters, and trappers. Yet downstream from Whitehorse the waters are polluted. The pollution amazes: the Yukon, though twice the area of the United Kingdom, has a population of only about thirty thousand. Despite the invitation and the rewards, I found it difficult to May-~t~une 1992 367 McClorry ¯ Integral Sabbatical sit, to be, to contemplate, and see. My head, eyes, and feet were always in danger of being drawn away toward the future or toward present effectiveness. There was the ridiculous itch to justify how I spent my time here, in one of the most privileged environments on earth. To look, to appreciate and hear, were not more impor-tant but, rather, prior necessities. So much, it appeared, would be true for me also in the United Kingdom. There, too, I would need to discover how to look and listen. Eventually these dis-tracting energies, these pieces of unbelief, became insubstantial. Sitting in the dust--the gold dust--of Dawson acquired power. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. Surf scoters! This identifying and naming were not violently dismissive (a "that's that and what next?" attitude) but allowed what I saw to become part of the public world, made it shareable and so part of a communal promise. In some places the forests were thin. It was possible to move through them without following a trail or struggling through the undergrowth and fallen trees. Twice the bright' bark of the birch trees seemed to give light. The forest was lit from within: an event as unexpected and as usual as a fox crossing the road. I left the Yukon for the Northwest Territories. The flight from Whitehorse to Yellowknife exchanged vertical country for a horizontal landscape: a flat, flat land. Whitehorse, in mountain-ous country, has few buildings over three stories; Yellowknife, in a terrain that scarcely undulates, is full of high-rise buildings. So do we mark in our architecture our estimates of ourselves and our relationship to the land. The short Yukon spring, when all the trees came out in leaf during one afternoon, also vanished. I flew to Victoria Island, well north of the arctic circle, where there are no trees. It was snowing at Coppermine and Cambridge Bay, the snow flung horizontal by the wind. The frozen bay and the tundra do not make for "beautiful country," but they are exhila-rating: some snow remains and there are occasional, new flowers close to the ground. I see it as keenly and as vividly as the jaguar I saw in a Guyanese village two years ago. The twenty-four-hour sunlight and the intricate flatness of the land, heaved up into flat-topped rock formations near Holman, enliven my tentative pres-ence in these astonishing places. Suddenly the tundra is a place for happiness.4 There is excited wonder at the native people leaving their 368 Review for Religious houses and going to live in "camp" or "on the land" as the win-ter subsides, at the sleds, skidoos, and boats lining the bay and half covered in snow, the profusion of dog lines. There are the inviting enigmas of the snow and ice (color coded like the houses, where the color gives information about origin and ownership), the wreck of Amundsen's Maud. I walk by houses in spaces which are hardly streets, greeting and being greeted, enjoy the camps, am on holy ground. People here do not live "off the land" like Europeans on safari in what became African colonies; they live "on the land." Certainly they do not have "a place in the country." Marie Zarowny, interviewing the Dene and Inuit peo-ple about their political, economic, social, and cultural concerns, found that these were, for the people, inseparable from spirituality: "We are deeply spiritual and our spiritual power comes from the land . Our spirituality is tied in with the animals.''s I found, in this land of the Copper Eskimos,6 a desire for a project, a Gospel activity, and began to sense something of what it might be as I w.alked the tundra, cut inland by the lakes and pancake-topped striated banks, as I prayed in 'the mornings. It is to live and explore the belief that God in Christ is active in the middle of' our creativity and destructive-ness-- and to do so partly in terms of neglected areas of Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. The context for this would be ecumenical. The people involved most likely would be marginal in ecclesiastical and social terms. Maybe something of this could be said in pub-lic language. I imagine a thin book as sharp, bright, and useful as a razor. The idea is not new. What is new is the tangibility given an idea by the land. The book does not itself matter. What counts is the invitation to live and move in this way. So much is a possible event, the gift that is also a product of looking and sit-ting with ignorance, of listening and friendliness. It is frail but real. Cautious at first, a caribou crosses the trail and moves off across the tundra, splashing through the meltwater and covering the bare ground and remaining patches of snow at a determined trot. An arctic hare appears, each hair individual and alive, crouches down ten feet away, and remains still, long-eared, and eye to eye. What mattered were walks along the banks of the Yukon River, taking care to identify the ducks. May-June 1992 369 I fly south of the arctic circle to Yellowknife, for two weeks in the parish--weeks full of conversations. Then I go on to Fort Smith, by the Alberta border, for a similar two weeks. It is good to sit by the Rapids of the Drowned on the Slave River watching the pelicans, the birds clearly at home in the spilling and swirling waters. Living "on the land" spoke of ways of living in the United Kingdom. Waiting for the looked-at and walked-over landscape to disclose itself speaks of a wider connectedness, a solidarity. I remember the six Jesuits and two women murdered in E1 Salvador on 16 November 1989. Later I fly north again, north of the cir-cle, to Inuvik. There I wonder once more about space and people: the Northwest Territories are larger than Western Europe and have a population of about 55,000. I do not know what this con-trast might mean or what it is to populate or overpopulate the land. In a short while I will exchange these huge and empty spaces for my own overcrowded little island, where every piece of land seems like an archaeologist's find. Meanwhile there is the Mackenzie delta to see--the delta of the Decho, to use the Dene name--and the small settlement of Arctic Red River to visit. But sabbatical time is running out. When I arrive back in England I will have spent some four months never passing more than two weeks at a stretch in any one place. Afterwards It is usual to say that those who travel undertake an inner journey as well as an outer journey. Covering distance, when the travel is a pilgrimage, is a metaphor for a change of mind and heart. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. Similarly the landscape, the land on which we put our feet and live, is an exterior landscape which affects and is affected by our interior landscape. Barry Lopez, contemplating the "bleak and forsaken" aspect of Pingok Island in the Beaufort Sea, writes: The prejudice we exercise against such landscapes, imag-ining them to be primitive, stark, and pagan, became sharply apparent. It is in a place like this that we would unthinkingly store poisons or test weapons, land like the deserts to which we once banished our heretics and where we once loosed scapegoats with the burden of our transgressions.7 Happiness, however, had been given on the undistinguished tundra. The "land" had become a metaphor, a mnemonic, partly 370 Review for Religious learned and partly obscure, which held attractive promise. This was not distant from the care of the land in the Old Testament sabbatical tradition; it was close, also, to the concern for people and society, for the excluded, which is integral to that tradition. The landscape of Victoria Island and the Decho had reminders, in the oil storage tanks needed for winter warmth, of a different economy, other concerns. The land-scape would also include the cityscape, the interre-latedness and demands of first-world economies. Desire and fear both go into the making of cities and are evoked by the complexity and coloration of their shapes, just as they affect and are evoked by our perception of the land. The city includes and excludes, vivifies and oppresses--and needs as much care in its contemplation as does the tundra in the arctic and the mountains of the Yukon, as much set-ting of ourselves not to turn away. In the city, in our quotidian economies, the invitation is the same: to look steadily, to sit with ignorance, to trust the friendliness, to find, in this also impossible terrain, the outlines of the kingdom as drawn in the few "remembered" words of Jesus. Back in England, in Birmingham, there are vivid memories of smokehouses and camps, mountains and snow, the tundra and the frozen sea, mosquitoes and black flies, the particular people and their traditions. The coffee-lubricated conversations continue to echo. The tundra, I think, was easier to look at than Birmingham. But the tundra invites a fuller regard for my own place, these islands off the coast of Europe, and speaks of new possibilities. The landscape of the Yukon speaks of hoping for what is more and larger than is admitted in other, more usual, locations. Solidarities beckon in a welcoming fashion. A sabbatical is a way of returning to one's own place. The difficulty of all this is clear: "The differ-ing landscapes of the earth are hard to know individually. They are as difficult to engage in conversation as wild animals.''8 Nonetheless, to think of a world without wilderness is to be full of disquiet. For wilderness--living "in the land"--was integral to Milford and Cambridge, and is part and parcel of where I am now and where we all are. Explorers explore also themselves and their own cultures. May-June 1992" 371 Notes ~ In what follows on parables, I am indebted to James Crampsey, "Look at the Birds of the Air ." The Way, 31, no. 4 (October 1991): 286-294. 2 John Macmurray, Persons in Relation (Adantic Highlands, New Jersey; first published by Faber and Faber, London, 1961), p. 171. 3 Thomas Lobsinger OMI, Bishop of Whitehorse, and Denis Croteau OMI, Bishop of Mackenzie-Fort Smith--to whom I am very grateful. The Yukon and Northwest Territories are ordinarily a Jesuit-free zone. 4 A time of happiness, if not frequent, is at least commented on often enough for it to be by no means unique in this kind of terrain. See, for example, P. G. Downes, Seeping Island (Saskatoon: Prairie Books, 1988). The happiness contrasts with, but is not provoked by, the harshness of the country. Imprisoned by "a relentless wind of eight days fury," Downes is told by his partner "You do not 'hope' in this country; you do not hope, you just do the best you can" (p. 63). An explanation is given in a foot-note: "What he means is that 'hoping' is a passive state, and that you must be physically and mentally active in this type of situation." This seems also about right when hoping in God. s Marie Zawowny, "You Can Help Us to Become Strong Inside: Discerning the Direction of the Church with the Dene and the Inuit," Insight: A Resource for Adult Religious Education, no. 4, 1991, National Office of Religious Education, Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops. 6 "Copper Eskimo" was the phrase I heard. Local people do not always use the the more favored general name, Inuit--"the people." A fine account of life with the Inuit of the area is given in Raymond de Coccola and Paul King, The Incredible Eskimo: Life among the Barren Land Eskimo (Hancock House, 1989). The work was first published by Oxford University Press, New York, in the early 1950s under the title Ayorama; the new edition is fuller and uncensored. 7 Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams: Imagination and Desire in a Northern Landscape (Picador, 1987), p. 255. See also the chapter "Landscape and Narrative" in his Crossing Open Ground (New York: Vintage Books, 1989). 8 The continuation of the quotation noted in n. 7 above. 372 Review for Religious PHILIP L. BOROUGHS Using Ignatian Discernment work, ministry, or living arrangements. Diminishing energy, feel-ings of boredom or of being taken for granted, or an emerging desire for new challenges can signal a need to reappraise one's situation. Obviously, these times of transition are unsettling, and they can be stressful as one begins to let go of the security of the familiar and searches for new clarity and direction. However, these periods also can generate new possibilities and a renewed sense of responsibility for one's life. At times such as these, the Serenity Prayer of Alcoholics Anonymous seems particularly appropriate: "O God, grant me the courage to change the things that I can change, the serenity to accept the things that I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference." Sometimes circumstances warrant a fun-damental change in one's life, while at other times a change of attitude or behavior seems mor4 appropriate. As one critically reviews his or her situation and assesses available options, one wisely might wonder whether there are any norms or principles to help one choose among the options. In the Spiritual Exercises St. Ignatius of Loyola offers a num-ber of principles for discernment which can be extremely useful for those entering into a time of transition. One of the major goals of the Exercises is to assist those who Philip L. Boroughs SJ may be addressed at 621 17th Avenue East; Seattle, Washington 98122. May-June 1992 373 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment undertake them to make the right life choices. The principles of discernment reflect Ignatius's own experience of prayerful decision making, and a brief review of the major transitions in his life will offer a context for his insights. Ignatius's Life On 20 May 1521 Ignatius was wounded in the battle of Pamplona, and in the long recuperation period which followed, a fundamental reorientation of his life began. Over the next sev-eral months, as he contemplated his future, Ignatius became aware of different interior movements affecting him. Gradually he rec-ognized the patterns of these interior movements, noting that certain spirits or desires produced peace and hope while others, which initially delighted him, eventually left him sad and depressed. As a result of these fluctuations, Ignatius decided to fol-low the spirit or direction which ultimately consoled him, and thus his religious quest began in earnest. Abandoning his life as a soldier and courtier, he moved to Manresa and formally commenced a spiritual journey which grad-ually helped him to identify and understand his limits and dis-oriented attachments as well as his deepest dreams and desires. After months of intense prayer and penance, mystical experiences, and interior growth, he embarked on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. There he hoped to spend his life visiting the holy places and help-ing souls. However, after he had been in Jerusalem only nineteen days, the Roman Catholic authorities ordered him to leave. The political climate was tense, and they did not want to assume lia-bility for this questionable religious enthusiast. Accepting their legitimate authority over him, Ignatius con-cluded that it must not be God's will that he remain in Jerusalem. He decided that he needed further education if he were to serve God's people in some other capacity. He returned to Spain and began studying grammar at the University of Barcelona. Two years later he advanced to study the humanities at Alcalfi. After many months, however, his austere lifestyle and his growing rep-utation as a lay spiritual director caused such controversy that he was investigated by the Inquisition. Mthough exonerated of any wrongdoing, he was forbidden to continue his spiritual ministry. Consequently he moved to the University of Salamanca. There the same pattern was repeated, and once again he had to revise his 374 Review for Religious plans. Ignatius then transferred to the University of Paris, where he spent the next seven years earning his bachelor's and master's degrees. These were intense years of study and spiritual ministry, and they were also years when he gathered some lifelong com-panions who shared his ideals and his commitment to service. As his formal education drew to a close, Ignatius became seri-ously ill and was advised by his doctors to return to his native country to recuperate. He journeyed home with the understand-ing that he and his companions would reassemble in Venice once he had recovered. From there they hoped to gain passage for Jerusalem, where they would spend the rest of their lives in min-istry. Ignatius and his friends vowed to wait one year in Venice for passage to Jerusalem; but if they could not arrange their trip dur-ing that time because of political turmoil, they would travel to Rome and place themselves at the service of the pope. Since no ships left Venice for Jerusalem that year, they proceeded on to Rome in keeping with their vow. As their reputation for holiness and ministerial effectiveness spread, requests for their services began to arrive from various corners of the world, forcing this rather loose-knit group of friends to consider the nature of their commitment to each other. After weeks of prayerful deliberation, they decided to form a reli-gious community and elected Ignatius to be their religious supe-rior. Although he initially declined the position, subsequent prayer and consultation with his spiritual director moved him to accept. He spent the last fifteen years of his life as the superior general of the nascent Society of Jesus. During this time of rapid growth and development, Ignatius not only provided this new community with inspired leadership, but he also prayerfully drafted its con-stitutions. With the exception of his seven years at Paris and his final years in Rome, Ignatius moved fre.quently throughout his adult life. His constant effort was to discern and follow God's will within the social and historical realities of his time. A!though he was the recipient of many mystical graces, few of them provided him with specific instructions about the decisions he faced. Rather, these mystical experiences confirmed the general direction of his life and God's ongoing companionship with him. Decisions about particular choices he faced required prayer and discernment to discover God's will. Ignatius's early lessons in the discernment of spirits, his respect for human learning and reflectivity, and his May-~Tune 1992 375 Boroughs ¯ Using Ignatian Discernment courage to act once he felt he knew what God wanted of him facilitated his prayerful decision making during the numerous transitions of his life. Predispositions for Discernment Ignatius's religious experience and his Spiritual Exercises sug-gest that, if an individual wishes to enter into a process of dis-cernment in order to discover God's will, certain predispositions are necessary: interior freedom, sufficient knowledge of self and the world, imagination, patience, and the. courage to act respon-sibly. Without these graces, true discernment is not possible. Interior Freedom: The first paragraph of the Spiritual Exercises clearly asserts that interior freedom is a sine qua non for finding God's will: "We call Spiritual Exercises every way of preparing and disposing the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul" (SpEx 1). When Ignatius speaks of ridding oneself of inordinate attach-ments, he can be very explicit. In the Meditation on the TWO Standards, he identifies inordinate attachments primarily as temp-tations to riches, honor, and pride (SpEx 142). Today we might describe them as an attachment to possessions or a specific lifestyle, a desire for recognition or a preoccupation with the opinion of others, and an insistence on being in control of one's life or radical self-sufficiency. Ignatius believed that attachments " ~uch as these would so condition one's life that one's relationship with God would be seriously compromised and one's freedom to find God's will would be lost. During times of transition in a person's life, other variations of inordinate attachments also can surface. For example, at the first sign of serious difficulty, some people immediately search for new living or work possibilities, fearful of the asceticism required for long-term commitments. Others, feeling misunder-stood and unvalued, find it easier to cling to chronic anger and bit-terness than to identify and address the source of these feelings and move to a more integrated life. Still others become so com-pletely preoccupied with their own personal growth that they ignore the legitimate needs of those whose lives are intercon-nected with theirs. Whatever form an inordinate attachment takes, 376 Review for Religious it can effectively inhibit the possibility of true discernment because it centers one's life in oneself rather than in God. Knowledge: True spiritual freedom or detachment depends on self-knowledge. More than just an understanding of one's limits or even one's patterns of temptation, self-knowledge requires a pro-found awareness of one's gifts and one's deepest desires. However, during times of transition, individuals frequently say that they do not really know what they want. This is often part of the initial unrest which introduces a need for change. But it also can be an invitation for individuals to reclaim their deepest desires, those essential values which give ultimate meaning to their lives, their relationships, and their involvement with the world. For example, when one becomes overwhelmed juggling the increasing demands of family and career, or exhausted by the mounting expectations of one's ministerial position, or seriously disillusioned by institutional intransigence, identifying again or reformulating one's deepest desires provides a starting point for making new choices. Articulating one's deepest desires helps one to prioritize commitments and can provide some perspective for letting go of tfiose concerns which jeopardize whfit is more impor-tant. Sometimes people come to realize that .they have to r~con-sider tfieir original life commitment because of s.ubsequent choices they have made over the years. Others may discern that their deepest desires have not changed, but their they have to find a new oi" healthier way of living them out. S~ill others may experi-ence a call to liv~ out their original commitment even more rad-ically. Reapp~:opriating one's deepest desires is a critical dimension of self-knowiedge. However, for Ignatius self-knowledge was not enough. He spent many years studying in some of the most respected univer-sities of his day and achieved an advanced degree in theology because he believed that education was a critical component for ministry. He even rediaced his intense spiritual activities during his university years because he discerned that his ex[ended prayer was interfering with his con~mitment to study. Ignatius emphasized education as a significant component in the formation of young Jesuits and as an important ministry of the Society of Jesus because through it he promoted the ongoing transformation of individu-als, church, and society. Consequently, not only knowing oneself, but also knowing the complexities of any given situation, pos- May-June 1992 377 Boroughs ¯ Using Iffnatian Discernment sessing a critical understanding of systems and structures, and having sufficient education for one's current ministry or some new possibility are critical dimensions of a discernment process. Imagination: Knowledge in concert with imagination can produce new possibilities. Ignatius clearly manifested an imaginative approach to ministry through the creation of the Society of Jesus and its novel structures and methods. He also used the power of imagination in his approach to prayer. Through an imagina

Issue 48.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1989. ; R~z,.'n~w vor R~.t~3~oos (ISSN 0034-639X) is publishcd bi-monthly at St. Louis University by thc Mis- ¯ souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428: SI. l.x~uis. MO 63108-3393. Sccond-class postagc paid at St. Lxmis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 pcr year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail. add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or changc of address, write: R~,.'u~w voa R~t.~Gous: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth. MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to Rv:vtv:w v(m REI.I(;IOtJS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Ma\'/June 1989 Volume 48 Number 3 Manuscripts, books fnr review and correspnndence with the editor should be sent to REvtEw wm Rr:t,t(;mt~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 l~eRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints shnuld be nrdered from R~:\'t~:w vo~ R~:~,nntms; 3601Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Out nf print" issues are available frnm University Micrnfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major pnrtion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Snciety fnr the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Color plays an important role in our human lives. Before modem psy-chological studies were done about color and its effect upon our human psyche, the Church emphasized color to highlight liturgical seasons and to enhance individual feast-day celebrations. Both the colors for deco-rating altar, tabernacle, and sanctuary and the colors for priestly vest-ments and stoles conveyed a mood or feeling of the season or feast. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS over the past ten years has distinguished its is-sues within any one volume by color. Willy-nilly, whether by foresight or only upon reflection, color for us, too, tends to have a certain sym-bolic relationship to the seasonal and liturgical placement of an issue. An obvious point can be made with the blue cover of this issue--a blue which is associated with Mary, Mother of God and Mother of the Church, and with her special identification with the month of May. In more recent times, the popular place of Mary in the devotional lives of Catholics has dimmed. The Vatican II renewal of our liturgy and sacramental celebrations necessarily focused our attention and re-education upon the central mysteries of our faith-life. Devotions in their myriad forms of litanies, novenas, vigils or holy hours, and various other pious practices--whether in honor of Mary or of any of the saints-- naturally received less attention during this period. Our time and ,our en-ergies were being re-directed so that we could recapture the Eucharistic celebration and the other celebrations of sacraments with all the fervor and participation that marked our popular devotions. It sometimes appeared that, with popular devotions less emphasized, Mary and the saints were also losing their place in Catholic life. Instead, this has been a time of nurturing fresh growth, with new insights and em-phases to invigorate and renew our faith-lives. The recent Marian year stands as a proclamation of the renewed understanding of Mary's place in the life of the Christian faithful. In this issue, we look through four different prisms at Mary. The first article is "Mary in Contemporary Culture" by Father Stan Parmisano, O.P. Just as Mary has played a distinctive role in the various ages of the Church, for example, in the "lady" ideal of the Middle Ages culture, so we need to ask how our relation to Mary facilitates our Christian re-sponse to.the issues and values prevalent in culture today. The author 321 399 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 stimulates our own thinking about the hidden ways in which Mary might be said to be prevalent in our culture. The second article in this issue is "Through Mary" by Ms. Hilda Montalvo. As wife, mother, and teacher, Ms. Montalvo calls us all into a personal reflection upon what the dogmas about Mary mean to us. She points the way to seeing how Marian dogmas are necessarily Christian dogmas, helping us to clarify our own relationship with God and to en-rich the meaning of our human lives. Sister Mary Eileen Foley, R.G.S., writes the third article on Mary, raising the question in her title, "Reflections on Mary, Bridge to Ecu-menism?" In view of an existing Reformation tradition in which the honor given to Mary continues to divide Roman and Eastern Catholic and Orthodox Christian from the majority of other Christian churches, Sis-ter Mary Eileen suggests ways of seeing how a new understanding of Mary may well be in our day a true ecumenical bridge. The fourth article allows us all to pursue further at our leisure the most recent writings on Mary. Father Thomas Bourque, T.O.R., pro-vides us with a selected bibliography of writings about Mary which have been published between the time of Paul VI's exhortation, Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and John Paul II's encyclical, Mother of the Redeemer. Hopefully this compact bibliography can serve as a helpful resource for a fresh and renewed understanding of Mary's role in the lives of Christian peoples. Finally, I will note that in a newly added section to our Book and Cassette Reviews area, called "For the Bookshelf," we have briefly noted the contents of a few books about Mary just recently published. I hope that you will find the occasional addition of this section to Re-views a help in highlighting those recently published books, which we want to note and can often group around certain themes or issues. David L. Fleming, S.J. Mary In Contemporary Culture Stan Parmisano, O.P. Father Stan Parmisano, O.P., is Regent of Studies for the Western Dominican Prov-ince. He teaches at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California in the area of Religion and the Arts. His address is 5877 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. ~ have been asked to specify the difference Mary, the Mother of Jesus, makes or can make in our contemporary culture. Let me first propose some principles, or basic thinking, that may help toward a fruitful dis-cussion of the complex of issues and subjects involved in the question. Afterwards, we may consider some of these particulars in terms of Mary and her possible role within them. We think of the presence or absence of Mary, as of Jesus, in terms of visibility or of imaginable or intelligible content. Thus if there is a dearth of "thinking" about Mary or of images of her, we would say that she is absent in our time; on the contrary, we would say that she was pre-sent in former times, especially in the medieval and early renaissance worlds, when she was quite "visible" in the content of theology, art, architecture, poetry, music. But there is another kind of presence: invis-ible, unconscious, the presence of form rather than content, the kind of presence we are asked to look for, say, in non-representational art or in music, or in poetry where the music or rhythm precedes idea and image and helps create them. t This is a presence of thrust, of dynamic, of spirit ¯ . . like that of the Spirit of God (ruach Elohim) hovering over the yet unformed waters of chaos and warming them toward visibility and life. I want to suggest that perhaps Mary is present here and there in our time in this last manner, and that we should strive to promote her more universal presence in this direction as well as in that of visible content. In fact, this is the direction in which we should seek to define culture 323 324 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 itself. Culture is not a matter of any one specific content or subject or activity nor of all taken en masse. Rather, it is the inherited dynamism or spirit or form that produces each of them in all their various nuances, though it itself is affected and reshaped by them.z The same is true with regard to God and Jesus: it is not so much the content of our thought about them, not the images we have of them that is telling, but what un-derlies these, beyond thought and image, inspiring and shaping the con-tent of our belief. I would regard Mary in a similar way. In the earliest Church there was not, perhaps, much content or visibility of Mary, at least when com-pared to Jesus and his male disciples, to Paul and his entourage. But, to borrow an image from one of her later lovers, I would suggest that she was there from beginning to end as "atmosphere," as "world-mothering air, air wild," as form or spirit shaping the emerging thought and action of the Church.3 Certainly it was in her modest context, her "atmosphere," that Christ was preserved from mere myth and acknowl-edged as substantially and earthily human (so Paul's almost casual aside: "born of a woman"). By the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance that spirit had blossomed into a fullness of content. Then that content be-gan to harden till in some instances and locales it quenched the moving spirit and became identified with Mary. And could it be that Vatican II tried to recover her spirit, the "form" of Mary? If so, we must not mis-take what it had to say about Mary for the fullness of Mary but, with its beginnings, refocus on the thrust of Mary in our time and beyond. In speaking of Mary's presence in this way I would hope to suggest another presence, that of the Holy Spirit. Saint Maximilian Kolbe spoke boldly of Mary as the quasi-incarnation of the Holy Spirit, emphasizing the latter part of this hyphenation. Since then, less venturesome theolo-gians have accentuated the quasi.4 In any case few Catholic theologians will deny Mary's special and intimate relationship with the Spirit. They go hand in loving hand, indissolubly Wedded--not only because they were cooperatively together at the conception of Christ and later at the birth of the Church, but because they have a kind of natural affinity. Both are hidden, in the background as it were, but dynamically so, strik-ingly reemerging at critical moments in Jesus's adult years--as when the Spirit leads Jesus into the desert to prepare him for his ministry, and when Mary, waiting for Jesus "apart from the crowd," inspires in him the revolutionary declaration as to his true and lasting kindred (Mk 3:31 - 35). There are other shared characteristics. These are discoverable in cer-tain movements or thrusts of our time, and I suggest that we look here Mary in Contemporary Culture / 395 for the presence of Mary/Spirit in our time as well as in any explicit Marian theology or devotion. Some of these revelatory movements are as follows. The interiorization of religion. Certainly emphasis today is on the sub-jective aspect of belief and morality. Even those who rightly uphold the objectivity of belief and morals are concerned more than ever with lib-erty of conscience, personal and cultural limitations of understanding, the virtue of prudence and its largely intuitive functioning, the unique-ness of a given "situation," the restoration in one form or another of casuistry(the individual case). But interiorization, subjectivity, intuition are of the unpredictable Spirit "who blows where he wills" and of the traditionally feminine rather than of the predictably and predicting ra-tional and the traditionally masculine. Purged of all excess and distor-tion, they are, in other words, of the Holy Spirit and Mary. Contemplative prayer. In the last twenty to thirty years there has been in the western world a mounting interest in and practice of medita-tive prayer, sparked by eastern imports such as TM, Zen, Yoga, and now developed along lines of traditional Christian contemplation. This prayer is seen now to be not just for the select few, mainly among nuns and monks, but for all in whatever walk of life. Here is obviously another aspect of interiorization and the letting go of content in favor of a poised and expectant darkness. It is not a looking to what is outside (image, word, symbol, creed) but to what is within, to the private, personal "reve-lation," to what God is "saying" to me here and now--like a pregnant woman turned inward, quietly aware of the mystery growing within her. Here again is the Holy Spirit praying within us when, as St. Paul tells us (Rm 8:26-27), we do not know what to pray for (that is, when all con-tent is surrendered) and here is Mary, the silent, surrendering contem-plative par excellence. Unseen, unfelt, they are at the heart of so many today who are trying to pray such prayer, and so many others desper-ately in need of it if only to avoid being torn apart and scattered by the noise and confusion of a world off-center. Ecumenism. Another mark, and need, of the contemporary Church is ecumenism, conceived now as the unification not just of the various Christian churches but of the worldreligions as well. Again we may see here the stirring of.the Spirit who is the bond of love, the vinculum cari-tatis, uniting Father and Son, the one hovering over the deep bringing, at the Father's Word, order out of chaos, the one forming and securing the one Church in the beginning. And as Mar~,, with and in the Spirit, brought to birth the one undivided Christ, so is her labor today with re- 326 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 gard to the Church. It is the opinion of many Catholic theologians that Mary should be downplayed today so as not to offend our Protestant broth-ers and sisters and thereby impede ecumenism. I should think it would be just the opposite, providing the depth of Mary is presented, which is her spirit, her form more than her traditional content; yet the latter, in the purity of Church teaching and practice, is of marked importance, too, for itself and for what it reveals of her spirit and the new directions that spirit may take, for all the churches, in the future.5 Social Justice. Whereas in former times we would speak of charity and the works of charity, now the cry is for justice and the doing of jus-tice: we do for the poor not so much out of our love and their need as out of our sense of justice and their rights. Again, in the past justice has been in the main the province of the male, the one actively engaged in the world, in politics, business, civil defense, and so forth. But women are more and more coming to the fore in it, seeking justice for themselves and for the marginal and oppressed in general. Here we may note a fresh dynamic of Mary--the seed of which, however, was there from the be-ginning. Thus those writing of Mary today, particularly women, view her in the context of the women of justice in the ancient Hebrew world-- Esther, Deborah, Judith--and see a whole theology of social justice in Mary's Magnificat.6 And if the movement toward social justice is of the Holy Spirit, who as creative Love seeks balance, harmony, substantial peace and concord, then, yes we can find, if we look, the Spirit's spouse at work with the Spirit toward the same goal. Mary, while drawing us within in contemplative stillness, also directs us outward to the Christ who lived and lives in our objective, tangible world and identified him-self with the quite visible poor and needy. She points to this Christ dwell-ing outside us as well as within, just as does the Holy Spirit who, as the gospel tells us, is there to remind us continually of all Christ has visibly done and audibly spoken. Perhaps part of the new "content" of Mary today is this visibility of the woman in works of justice and peace, not as having lost the interiorization, the contemplative spirit, the gentle, mothering love of her past, but as gaining something in addition: the hid-den life while, paradoxically still remaining hidden, come forth openly to help heal the world. Mary remains what she was in the past and there-fore under the press of current need becomes someone new for the pre-sent. When considering Mary in her relationship to women, past and pre-sent, we must be cautious. Christ is male; his maleness is part of his his-tory, and history is important in the religion known as Christianity. But Mary in Contemporary Culture / 327 his maleness is meant mainly as a means of access to his humanity and person which are neither male nor female. Christ is equally for both men and women, though, of course, in different ways according to different psychologies and cultures. However, the h~stoncai fact of Christ s male-ness has often dominated our thinking about him, with regretful results; as when, in spite of changes in psychologies and culture it is used to jus-tify an ongoing exclusive male ecclesiastical leadership. Similarly with Mary. Her femininity is a providential part of her history, but it is as a human being and person that she is of greater moment. Accordingly she is for the man as well as the woman; she serves both equally and both are equally to learn from her, though, again, in different ways. Yet her femininity has had its influence, for good and bad. For bad." it has tended to limit our ideal of the Christian woman to what it was in Mary's own day and to which, accordingly, she herself was in good measure bound. For good: it has softened our conception of God and so made our ap-proach to God easier, more inviting, loving rather than fearful. In and through the gospels, past art and poetry and drama, seeing God in the arms and in the care and "power" of this then insignificant Jewish woman--quiet, gentle, lowly, we find some of that same womanhood rubbing off, as it were, on Father God. A fair part of the accessibility of Jesus himself, his merciful compassion, is the fact that he has Mary as his flesh and blood mother. Without her, would we be altogether con-vinced of the mercy of God and the understanding compassion of Jesus? Here is one way in which the "content" or dogma of Mary has affected us in the past, with its mark still upon us, thankfully. In the present thrust of woman toward justice, with Mary behind (and before) her, it would be tragic if this content were surrendered in favor of one that is hard, merely active, superficially and imitatively masculine. Eventually God himself might regress into the terror and cruelty of past and present dark religions. Mary, the Spirit, and Christ Above I recalled the bold but, to my mind, accurate Mariology of St. Maximilian Kolbe. Mary is the spouse of the Holy Spirit in a unique way, such that we can speak of her as the very incarnation of the Spirit, with some reservation (quasi). As indicated above, some Catholic theo-logians are embarrassed by this as by much else in the Church's past the-ology and practice concerning Mary. They think it an exaggeration of the biblical teaching and find it an impediment to union with our Protes-tant sister churches. As to the first objection we must insist that Scripture was not meant Review for Religious, May-June 1989 to stand alone: it sprung up out of the Church (community of believers) and its seeds are meant to grow within the Church under the care of the same Spirit who once inspired it. There was an initial content, to be re-spected as the Spirit's word through all time; but there were also drives, dynamisms within the original word, forms yet to find their specific con-tent or matter. Thus the gospels' powerful presentations, lovingly and carefully lingered over, of the relationship between Mary, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit cry out for meditation and penetration and so the revelation of truths beneath the surface. Thus we have the doctrines of the Immacu-late Conception, Assumption, the Queenship of Mary, and so forth; and her quasi-incarnation of the Spirit. This last is not to make a god of Mary. The gospels are clear on this score: Mary is the handmaid of the Lord, his lowly servant. Rather it is to point up something in God--the femininity, womanhood,, motherhood of God. Mary can be looked upon in two ways: as an historical person, flesh and blood, the daughter of Anna and Joachim (or of whomever), the physi-cal, natural mother of Jesus. Here she is all and only human. But she must also be seen as symbol, but the special kin~ of symbol that makes what is symbolized present in very reality. Thus as the Eucharist does not simply remind us of Christ but makes him really present upon our altars, so Mary does not simply recall the Holy Spirit to our minds and point us in the Spirit's direction; she makes the Spirit. really present among and within us. Seeing her we see the Spirit, as seeing the Eucha-rist we see Christ himself. This is a good and legitimate reason for ad-dressing the Spirit as feminine--not as a sop for the marginal woman but simply because as there are reasons for addressing God as Father or Son there is this equally cogent reason for addressing God as Mother.7 As in time, in the mystery of the Incarnation there is eternal Father, mother Mary, and Son Jesus, so in eternity there is Father and Son with mother-ing Spirit as their bond of Love. As for the difficulties such teaching may hold for ecumenism, they may be only initial difficulties. As suggested above, if we view Mary and present her in terms of form, thrust, spirit, and not just as already shaped content, and if we continually move deeper within this content in context of present needs and lawful desire, perhaps Protestants will eventually come to see what Catholic belief and theology have long since held as truth and will thank us for having led the way back home, as we have reason to thank them for having helped bring us back to much that had been lost. One final remark before considering some of the specifics of our sub- Mary in Contemporary Culture / 329 ject: it has to do with Mary's relationship with Christ. Again, in sensi-tivity to Protestant criticism and in reaction to exaggerated statements about Mary and misguided devotion to her, Vatican II and ecclesiastical documents and theology since have been most careful to insist upon the subjection of Mary to Christ. Salvation is through Christ alone; he is the one mediator between God and humankind. There is little if any talk about what formerly there was lots of talk about, namely of Mary as co-redeemer and mediatrix of all graces. Such theologizing, it is believed, and the devotion arising from (or producing) it detracts from the power and mission of Christ. But I wonder if we are not here misconceiving power and the whole matter of Christ's redemptive work. We seem to be equating Christ's (God's) power with power as we ordinarily think of it: dominating rule, often exclusive. But Christ's power is not univo-cal with ours, and he himself quite literally took the greatest pains to turn the tables in the matter: "You know how those who exercise authority among the gentiles lord it over them . It cannot be like that with you. Anyone among you who aspires to greatness must serve the rest . Such is the case with the Son of Man who has come, not to be served by others, but to serve" (Mt 20:25-28). And what about the power of love, which is Christ's power, or that of helplessness: the power of the sick to draw upon the strengths of oth-ers to heal and console, the power of the ignorant to create scholars and teachers, and so forth? I have often observed that the one with most power in a family is not the father or mother but the newly born baby, the whole life of the family revolving around the child precisely because of its powerful helplessness. If this seems farfetched relative to God, we have only to think of the Christ child in the crib at Bethlehem and the adult Christ upon the cross on Calvary. And what of the power of one who knows how to share his or her power, which requires greater strength, ability, "power" than to keep it all to oneself? I should think the great power of Christ, of God himself, is most manifest in the power to empower, to raise others to his very life and level. Jesus at the Last Supper remarked: "I solemnly assure you, the one who has faith in me will do the works I do, and greater far than these" (Jn 14:12). Not ex-clusive but inclusive--such is the power of Christ. Though our Holy Father in Redemptoris Mater follows Lumen Gen-tium in insisting upon Mary's subordination to Christ, h~, together with the Vatican II document, reiterates an old principle we ought to consider with equal care: "The maternal role of Mary towards people in no way obscures or diminishes the unique mediation of Christ, but rather shows 330 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 its power" (emphasis mine). Why not assert this aspect of Christ's power and see Mary as true queen "at the side of her Son," as the encyclical expresses it? Indeed, for centuries and still today, at least in our Christ-mas liturgies and devotions, we see the King rather in the power of his mother and in her arms, enfolded by her who gives him to the nations: "and so entering the house, (they) found the child with Mary his mother. Who am I that the mother of my Lord should come to me . He went down with them then, and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them . Figlia del tuo figlio, queen of heaven" (Mt 2:1 I ; Lk 1:43; Lk 2:51; T. S. Eliot, Dry Salvages, after Dante's Paradiso, xxxiii). In one mariological conference that I attended the speakers were in-sistent that we not view Mary apart from Christ. I kept thinking yes, but might not the reverse also be true: we must not view Christ apart from Mary. In Redemptoris Mater, John Paul several times reminds us of the indissolubility of the bond between Mary and Jesus and explicitly de-clares that "from the very first moment the Church 'looked at' Mary through Jesus, just as she 'looked at' Jesus through Mary." Christ does not want to be viewed in splendid isolation with everyone insisting that everything and everyone else is subordinated to him. His own image of himself is of one who serves, just as Mary's self-image is of the Lord's handmaid, neither thought less of their dignity for that: "Behold, all gen-erations shall call me blessed" (Lk 1:48). Mary is the first-fruits of the redemption, the Church in promised fulfillment, the Mother of the Re-deemer, of God himself, the spouse of the Holy Spirit and the effective symbol of the Spirit's presence and action in the world--this woman who embodies the very motherhood of God holds the new creation in her arms and nurtures it, just as she did her divine Son centuries ago. She has a greater, more powerful (loving) role in the work of redemption than much of our present theology is prepared to concede or any of us begin to imagine.8 At the conclusion of Redemptoris Mater we read: ". the Church is called not only to remember everything in her past that testifies to the special maternal cooperation of the Mother of God in the work of salva-tion in Christ the Lord, but also, on her own part, to prepare for the fu-ture the paths of this cooperation. For the end of the second Christian millennium opens up as a new prospect." Our Holy Father also calls for "a new and more careful reading of what the Council said about the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, in the mystery of Christ and the Church . " Renewed thinking about Mary and action relative to her Mary in Contemporary Culture / 33"1 are called for.9 But we are to do our thinking and acting in the context of both Scripture and the wider tradition, and of current need. We are to listen to the living Spirit as "she" shows within this treasure, Mary, both the old and the new. Mary and Some Specifics of Culture: Psychology In light of the above generalized reflections on Mary and contempo-rary culture I would like to comment briefly upon several segments of our culture in terms of Mary's possible role within them. In the area of psychology, so overwhelmingly influential in the shaping of our contem-porary culture and such an intimate part of it, it depends on what psy-chology we are talking about. If it is Jungian depth psychology, we need not look long or far to find Mary's place within it. Much of the work has already been done by the master and his disciple. Jung maintained that ideas and archetypes such as the anima, the intuitive, the dark, the yin--in general, the feminine--are underdeveloped in our western cul-ture, with disastrous results. His psychology must go even further today and add they are also on the wane in much of the eastern world in com-petition now with the west in its masculine drives toward action and domi-nance, rational knowledge and acquisition. This psychology's percep-tion, then, of the need for Mary or some equivalent dynamic is evident. Jung himself expressly spoke of the need in terms of Mary. He rejoiced over the definition of the doctrine of Mary's assumption, declaring it to be "the most important religious event since the Reformation." At last the feminine was given the exaltation it requires and deserves.~° However, as suggested above, and as Jungian psychology insists, we must not think of the feminine exclusively in terms of the woman. In the past maybe so, and in our present world still many women may be said to possess more of the "feminine" than do men. But feminine charac-teristics are meant to be part of the male psychology as masculine ones of the female, and cases abound where dominance in one or the other is reversed. I think of the two great sixteenth-century Carmelites. Both Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross had the organizational skills and drives and other "masculine" traits appropriate to founders and reform-ers of religious orders, and in these Teresa, as evidenced in her numer-ous religious foundations and governance thereof, may be said to have surpassed John. Again, both were richly passive, intuitive, contempla-tive, steeped in dark and mystery and in cleaving, passionate love, all notable feminine characteristics. Yet it is John, at least as revealed in his poetry, who appears the more feminine: he is the anima, the woman pas-sive under the strong and passionately active love of a quite virile God. 332 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 To what extent, therefore, the feminine characteristics are de facto ¯ found in women more than in men may be moot. But they are definitely the major component of the psyche of the woman Mary as she appears in the gospels. Mary's strong, paradoxically active passivity (she brings .forth the Word as she receives it), her alert and watchful hiddenness, her concern and compassion for those in need (Cana) and for the suffering (Calvary), her motherhood (of Christ and the Church), her deep, loving fidelity (from thefiat of Nazareth and before to that of Calvary and be-yond) are purposely emphasized that both men and women might real-ize their indispensability in each life that would be Christ's. They are also underscored to draw our attention to the feminine in Christ, whom oth-erwise we might tend to view simply as masculine: visibly out front, ac-tive in his preaching, teaching, healing, immersed in religious contro-versy-- a male among a world of males. In the context of his mother (and the other women who surround him), Jesus is still masculine but we are forced to attend to the deep roots of his masculinity, which is his femi-nine Spirit: his passivity (his prayer and passion), his hidden life even as he actively encountered the world, his cleaving love and compassion unto death, his motherhood (Mt 23:37; Lk 13:34). In Mary's presence, her "atmosphere," such qualities of Christ are not simply seen, but they are seen to be the best of him. Jesus was so powerfully and creatively masculine--such a leader for his time as for all time--because his mas-culinity was rooted in and suffused by the feminine, the Spirit. It is Mary who as his mother nurtured him in this, and who helps draw our atten-tion to it. It is she, then, who as our mother nurtures us in the same Spirit and in a similar way. As for other psychologies suffice it here to say that Mary should be looked for behind and within any therapy working toward healing and wholeness. Again, it is Christ who is the healer, but it is Mary who in-itiates the process by bringing Christ to birth, in the world at large and in each individual. Mary, one with the Spirit, struggles and groans in each of us to bring us to the wholeness, the sanity of Christ. Like her, and with her, we concentrated on the activefiat that allows it all to hap-pen. Politics, Economics, Sociology In the political, economic, and sociological concerns of our time Mary points up the need for the hidden, the contemplative, and for uni-versal justice (as in her Magnificat), and, though unnoticed, she is be-hind and within all creative efforts toward these ends. The absence of the contemplative, of the feminine in general, in contemporary politics Mary in Contemporary Culture / 333 is evident, and results have been tragic. Because they lack roots, our poli-tics, both domestic and foreign, change even as they are being formed; and this condition is aggravated by lack of goals other than immediate and pragmatic. But it is the contemplative spirit that gives depth and con-stancy and lights up the future and beyond. Also, our current concentration is upon superficial differences and divisions (my need, my race, my country, my self) rather than on our deeper oneness, which only contemplation, in the one God-centered form or another, can reveal and promote. Further, the disturbance we experi-ence within and among nations may well have as its root cause the fail-ure of the contemplative, the fruit of which is "the peace that surpasses understanding." And so we find divisions among us, the growth of fear, the expan-sion of military might to safeguard our "own" war or the cold threat of war. We look, then, to Mary, universal Mother and Queen of peace, for political healing. She is already there, in this felt social need, but also in those religious orders of men and women whose main concern is con-templation. One of the concrete ways in which the state might help work its own remedy, and so implicitly acknowledge Mary in its functioning, is itself to encourage and promote contemplative communities within its boundaries. These would help make up for the failure of prayer else-where and would be invitation and incentive for the rest of us to unite ourselves with them, at least from time to time, and so help bring our nation and the world to greater depth, unity, and peace. If the need for Mary and what she represents is obvious in politics, it is more so in the field of economics. Here the masculine dominates to the complete exclusion of the feminine, and material concerns have been so isolated from the spiritual that never the twain do meet. This is especially disturbing when we realize that it is economics that determines even our politics. Science too, as technology, is subordinated to it and dominated by it. Indeed, economics has become the dominant factor of our culture or a-culture; it is our pseudo-religion, often becoming, in fact if not in theory, the determining force in more legitimate and traditional religion. If, then, Jesus needs to be born into our world today, it is cer-tainly here in our economic systems and practice. And if born here, he may begin to penetrate the rest of our world. So once again we look to Mary to mother Jesus where he is most needed and we do what we can to help her in the birthing. To see sociology in terms of Mary is to reconsider love. Whatever the other theories as to the origin of society, from the Christian perspec- 334 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 tive it is love that first brings us together and, accordingly, it is love that is society's fundamental problem. So from its beginnings Christianity has taught that the basic unit of society is not the individual but the family which (ideally) is the product of love; and social workers, I believe, would readily agree that it is the lack of love, with the resulting fear and loneliness, that is their chief concern. But today love which is meant to unite is itself fragmented. Sex, in-tended to be integral with love, has been divided from it and made to function alone with all the consequent evils, both mental and physical, that plague our society. The inward-outward directions of love have also been severed, so that now it is either love of self (inward) to the exclu-sion of others or the love of others (outward) to the neglect and loss of self. One of the results of this is the breakup (further division) of the fam-ily which, accordingly, is now challenged by sociologists as the de facto basic unit of society. Mary can and, in secret ways, does have a curative place in all of this. Her love was integral. It reached out to others in and through Christ's large love; indeed, she brought that very love to birth. But she also reached deep within herself to the Spirit of love wherein she found her personal growth and happiness: "All generations will call me blessed." True, she "knew not man." But this does not mean her love was sexless. It is the myopia of our time that sees sex as having but one kind of expression. Mary can alert us to look for the depth in sex and sexual love and so open to us new possibilities of love. And love restored to wholeness should work toward the restoration of the centrality of fam-ily with consequent diminution of fear and loneliness. The Arts and Sciences Mary can have, and has, her place in those areas of our culture known as the arts and sciences. In any presentation or exercise of the hu-man, as in the arts and sciences, we are to see Christ, of course, but also Mary who, in her Immaculate Conception and her conception and birth-ing of Christ, was the first to bring the human to perfection. But as in Christ the human is perfected in and through the divine (Christ's person and divine nature) so also we find Mary bringing the human to perfec-tion in, through, and toward the divine. Again, it is a matter of whole-ness, which our contemporary world tends always to divide. Apart from the divine the human can only degenerate into the inhuman; but with the divine all of its gifted potential is realized. It is in this sense that the only true humanism is Christian humanism. Thus in the arts and sciences Mary is present as they express and promote the human, and she is dy- Mar), in Contemporary Culture / 335 namically present, moving them forward and deeper into the divine to become divinely human. Christ alone might be said to suffice for this: he is the one who in his very person brings the human to perfection. But Mary gives assurance of and added emphasis to Christ's humanity (he is of herflesh) and his divinity (she is Mother of God) and is responsible for the becoming of these in our world (she conceives and nurtures the perfect human being). She is behind the process of the arts and sciences. Here, then, as elsewhere in our contemporary world, Mary, together with her Son, may be found, not just as a possibility, but as actively engaged in shaping a reemerging culture. Our concern ought to be to look for them together and, having found them, enter into their work. NOTES ~ "I know that a poem, or a passage of a poem, may tend to realize itself first as a particular rhythm before it reaches expression in words, and that this rhythm may bring to birth the idea and the image; and I do not believe that this is an experience peculiar to myself." T. S. Eliot. "The Music of Poetry" in On Poetry and Poets (New York: 1957), p. 32. z Eliot again: "Culture cannot altogether be brought to consciousness; and the cul-ture of which we are wholly conscious is never the whole of culture: the effective culture is that which is directing the activities of those who are manipulating that which they call culture." Christianity and Culture (New York: 1949), p. 184. For Eliot's summary definition of culture see p. 198. 3 Gerard Manley Hopkins in "The Blessed Virgin compared to the Air We Breathe." 4 Ren~ Laurentin, indeed, disapproves of the expression altogether, reserving the term "incarnation" for that bf Christ alone~ However, he proceeds to speak of Mary as "pure transparency for the Spirit . . . she is wholly relative to the Spirit; this indeed is at the very core of her deep relationship to Christ and the Father." "Mary and the Holy Spirit," in Mary in Faith and Life in the New Age of the Church (Ndola- Zambia: 1983),"pp. 287-288. 5 See note 9 below for C. Jung's defense of Mary, precisely as in Catholic dogma, as a remedy for a defective Protestantism. In a letter to The Tablet, Sept. 5, 1987, p. 944, Dora Bede Griffiths, writing from his ashram-in Tamil Nadu, South India, suggests a rapprochement, between eastern religions and Christianity through the femi-nine. He notes that in Hebrew the "word for the Spirit (ruach) is feminine and in the Syrian Church, which spoke a form of Aramaic, which is close to the Hebrew, reference was made to 'our Mother, the Holy Spirit.' " The same for the Hebrew word for Wisdom (hokmah): it too is feminine and "this Wisdom is described as 'coming forth from the mouth of the Most High' as a feminine form of the Word of God." He suggests the possible enrichment of our Christian tradition by contact with Hinduism which "has no difficulty in calling on God as 'My Father, my Mother' and with Mahayana Buddhism which conceives of the highest form of Wis-dom as a feminine figure. Dora Bede does not mention Mary here, but it is my sug-gestion that she it is who concretizes the divine feminine, gives it flesh. Thus she 336 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 is the one who, rather than impede universal ecumenism, is meant to help in its re-alization. 6 There are the fine women theologians writing on Mary, such as E. S. Fiorenza and E. Moltmann-Wendel. But I am also thinking of the poets who perhaps do even more to deepen and broaden our knowledge and appreciation of Mary: a Caryll Houselan-der of the past generation and an Ann Johnson of the present. For the Magnificat especially, see the latter's Miryam of Nazareth: Woman of Strength and Wisdom (In-diana: Ave Maria Press, 1984). 7 In his essay "Sur la maternit~ en Dieu et la feminit6 du Saint-Esprit," Escritos del Vedat !I (1981), Yves Congar argues from Scripture and Tradition to the femi-ninity of the Holy Spirit, but is here silent as to Mary's role in the "sacramentiz-ing" of it. The essay may also be found in Theology Digest 30:2 (Summer, 1982) pp, 129-132. 8 Solus Christus, as solafides and sola scriptura, requires severe qualification. For centuries Catholic theologians have argued vigorously against ~he two latter formu-lae. They have been rightly suspicious of such exclusivity in view of the fullness of Christian revelation. For the same reason, perhaps, they should also challenge the solus Christus, this time in view of the fullness of Christ who is our revelation. 9 In an interview carried in America (June 6, 1987), pp. 457-458, Cardinal Suenens stressed the incompleteness of Vatican II's declaration on Mary. "I felt we needed to say more . She is not merely an historical figure; from the beginning she has been given an ongoing mission to bring Christ to the world." ~0 C. G. Jung, "Answer to Job," in Psychology and Religion: West and East, trans. by R. F. C. Hull, Bollinger Series XX (Pantheon Books, 1958), p. 464. Jung goes on to criticize Protestantism for its criticisms of the dogma. "Protestantism has ob-viously not given sufficient attention to the signs of the times which point to the equal-ity of women. But this equality requires to be metaphysically anchored in the figure of a 'divine' woman, the bride of Christ." Jung realizes that the dogma does not give Mary "the status of a goddess," still "her position (now) satisfies the need of the archetype." 1 don't know how this last can be, however, unless it is in and through Mary that we recognize that within the godhead itself the feminine is real-ized in the Person of the Spirit. Through Mary. Hilda S. Montalvo Hilda Montalvo is currently teaching at St. Vincent de Paul Regional Seminary in Boynton Beach, Florida. She is a wife and mother, currently a candidate for a Doc-torate in Ministry. She has completed the graduate program in Christian Spiritual Guid-ance from the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation in Washington, D.C. Her ad-dress is 7151 Pioneer Road; West Palm Beach, Florida 33413. The other day at a Lay Ministry workshop there was a spontaneous burst of applause when I shared my way of praying Mary's life. From the be-ginning of my spiritual journey over twenty years ago I have had an in-tuitive knowledge that the objective "facts" and titles about Mary were important not only because they honored and revered the mother of God but also because they spoke of my reality as a human being and a Chris-tian. These Marian dogmas have helped me to clarify and understand my basic assumptions of myself, my relationship with God, and the mean-ing of my life. I have always had a problem with original sin. To inherit Adam's sin is simply not fair, and so at seven I became an agnostic. The idea of a God that punishes and condemns innocent people--and I experi-enced myself as innocent--was repulsive and frightening. Christianity was not good news. If I was good, if ! kept the commandments, then God would love me. The dogma of the Immaculate Conception simply meant that God had wai.ved that evil from one person. To be born with original sin was bad enough but at least it was a shared human experi-ence and it explained (somewhat!) evil and death. But if Mary was born without it, not only was she not totally human but her "fiat" was pre-destined and she had no actual freedom. Christianity became good news when I realized that the fall/ redemption concept of original sin was simply one way of understand- 337 331~ / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 ing the Genesis story. The traditional interpretation of the story of Adam and Eve posits a paradise lost because of disobedience and the conse-quent punishment of suffering and death. But modern biblical interpret-ers such as Brueggemann are recognizing that the fundamental revela-tion of Genesis is that God's creation is good and that God is constantly gracing and blessing it. God made man and woman in "our" image and it was very good. That has to be the most important assumption of our spiritual life. Each person must come to a personal conviction of this truth that is not only an intellectual response but a lived, grounded ex-perience. The story of Adam and Eve is now being understood as that moment in history when human beings first become self-consciously aware, the first truly human act. Before that there was simply undifferentiated ex-istence; total unconscious dependence on environment and relationship, such as each baby.lives through his or her first year. The process of be-coming self-conscious, of becoming autonomous, in a child can be de-scribed a bit facetiously as the "terrible two's," in humankind, as the Fall. Original sin is not a 'thing' that we are born with: it simply de-scribes in mythological language our natural tendency for independence. Catholicism has always affirmed that grace builds on nature. Crea-tion spirituality, which has its origins in the earliest writer of the Bible, the Yahwist, emphasizes the constant presence and blessings of God in spite of the seeming sinfulness of his creatures. The main thrust of the whole Yahwist Saga which culminates in that beautiful and simple story of Balaam and the talking ass (Nb 22:25) is to celebrate God's refusal to curse his people and his insistence of unconditional love and bless-ing. We, like Balaam, are blinded by our needs and expectations. Per-haps .the Immaculate Conception is yet another reminder of our innate gracefulness? Could not this be the fundamental celebration of baptism? Jesus experienced the unconditional love of his Father at his baptism; we celebrate this same unconditional love and our acceptance into a lov-ing community at our baptism. Mary's Immaculate Conception could be the reminder of God's unconditional covenant with each one of us and the celebration of his covenant through one individual. It is not a nega-tive gift--but a positive statement: God is with us and for us. Original sin (and now I can begin to forgive God and Adam!) is the mythical explanation of our desire for independence from God and his creation--autonomy--with the inevitable consequence of alienation and death. Baptism is the celebration of the fact that God not only loves us unconditionally but is present within us and among us; it effects what it Through Mary / 339 signifies. The truth and hope beyond individualization is unity with God and interdependence with others--co-creators of the parousia, paradise, but now conscious and mature and in freedom. Mary is the archetype of this truth which has been named as Immaculate Conception. At the experiential level I resonate with Mary's "fiat." I also have experienced, am experiencing, the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit and have been afraid and anxious. I also wrestle with the "how" and "why" and the "why me." I also (carefully and tentatively) have said "fiat" and Christ has become incarnate, is now conceived, and contin-ues to be conceived in my life moment by moment. I also have felt com-pelled to go forth and share this good news with others. I give birth daily to Christ in my family, in my ministry. I also sing daily "My soul mag-nifies the Lord, my spirit exalts in God my savior." Mary's story is my story and every Christian's story. She is the ar-chetype of the Disciple as well as the archetype of Woman and Mother for both men and women. An archetype, in Jungian terms, is an image in thepsyche that when recognized and owned can serve to integrate be-liefs, feelings, and behavior. Unless one allows the Word to be con-ceived within one's very being, Christianity remains barren and lifeless, a moral code. It is onlywhen I become willing to accept the transform-ing gracefulness of God's love and presence in my life that I become ca-pable of writing my own Magnificat. As I journal the events of my life I become aware that God "has done great things for me," not least of which is to radically change my values and priorities. Mary is both virgin and mother. If this is understood only in the physi-cal sense, it is simply a faith statement that speaks exclusively of Mary. Mary "undefiled" stands above and beyond created reality, sexuality, and life itself. By implication, then, all persons who express their love sexually, even in stable and committed relationships, are impure, cor-rupted, polluted, tainted, or unclean. The list of synonyms in Roget's Thesaurus is much longer. But dogmas and doctrines speak of the truth of our nature and our relationship with God and with one another. Thus it behooves Catholic Christians to question what God is revealing through this dogma. Might it not mean that "perpetual virginity" means a life of integrity and innocence in any walk of life? Every disciple must conceive and birth Jesus; must be reborn; must be both virgin and mother regardless of his or her sex or sexuality. This way of perceiving Mary's virginity and motherhood can be especially fruitful for men who, in Jung's terms, project their ideal image of woman instead of accepting and owning their own femininity or anima. Mary Review for Religious, May-June 1989 within, for all disciples, symbolizes openness, receptivity, gentleness, gracefulness--many of those feminine virtues that have been lacking in our contemporary society. As a wife and mother I recognize and celebrate both the gift of moth-erhood and the wholeness and purity of my own life that is bespoken of through virginity. In and through motherhood I continue to be uncon-taminated, unprofaned, spotless, unblemished, andchaste. As I pray this dogma I become more comfortable with the paradoxical reality of my own inner being; I begin to name and own my authentic self; I become more open and vulnerable to the healing presence of Christ within. To meditate on the dogmas of Mary in this fashion helps us come in touch with the paradoxical nature of creation. It helps us to see be-yond the either/or stance that divides, judges, and creates conflict and war. It helps us to accept that much broader vision of both/and that is so freeing and encompassing. It helps us to see and understand the dif-ference between facts and Truth, between knowledge and wisdom. It is an invitation to live and enjoy mystery, to be surprised by newness and resurrection and Presence. Meditating on the dogma of the Assumption can be especially help-ful for us in recognizing our projections of the categories of time and space unto life after death. We were taught that heaven and hell were places for all time---eternity. Purgatory was a transient place of purifi-cation. The time and place one went to depended on one's choices. All very neat and logical--and totally contradictory to Revelation. The mag-nificence and mystery of the Spirit's presence in the Church is especially obvious in this dogma of the Assumption. Again we must take it seri-ously and symbolically--in the deepest sense of symbol which is to point beyond the literal sense to the mystery of which it speaks. Mary, the Dis-ciple, is assumed, taken up into heaven, body and soul, after her death. In mythological language she passes into timelessness and spacelessness. She simply is. Westerners tend to equate rational thought with knowledge, thus de-nying intuitive, imageless wisdom. The Assumption--as the Resurrec-tion- is revealed knowledge that goes beyond rational logical thought into mystery and Truth. But as finite human beings we factualize and ex-teriorize the nameless, misunderstand symbol, and live mystery as if it were actuality. The invitation of the dogma of the Assumption is to .let go of our need to understand, to know, to control, and simply trust the goodness and kindness of God. The invitation is to live this life to the fullest and trust that God will take care of our future--name it resurrec- Through Mary / 341 tion or assumption. The invitation is to experience beyond imagining and to live with the paradox of knowing but not understanding. My skepticism/agnosticism has served my faith in the sense that by doubting, questioning, and mistrusting religious experience I have not succumbed to superstition or fanaticism. On the other hand--as was pointed out to me by a wise fellow-traveler--skepticism was also an "ego defense, behind which lies a fear of change and loss of control that giving in to the religious experience may bring." Gifted with this insight I have consciously approached the dogma of the Assumption with as much of an attitude of "letting-go" and an open mind as possible. This has allowed me to see beyond the constricting barriers of space, time, matter and form. It has encouraged me to become open to mystery and surprise and to think in other terms than those of classical theology which comes to logical and rational conclusions about the mystery of God: "It is fitting and right." The Assumption means that when I die I become present. The.As-sumption means no more time, space, dualism, paradox. The Assump-tion means no more becoming. All the barriers to fullness of life that I have struggled with either because of environment or because of genes will disappear and I will become--I am, one with Christ. Catholics have traditionally prayed "through Mary to Jesus." This archetypal way of praying Mary, in fact, allows Jesus to become incar-nate in our very being. As I "ponder" the Immaculate Conception I be-come aware of the goodness of creation and my innate gracefulness; I conceive Jesus' within me by the power of the Holy Spirit; I give birth to him daily and discover him in others; I slowly let go of my need to control through power and knowledge. Through Mary belief statements become faith experiences; factual knowledge becomes lived Truth. I can then say with Paul: "I live now not with my own life but with the life of Christ who lives in me." Some Reflections On Mary, Bridge To Ecumenism? Mary Eileen Foley, R.G.S. Sister Mary Eileen Foley, R.G.S., has been teaching courses in Scripture in a par-ish and to her own Sisters, in addition to her free lance writing. She has been princi-pal and teacher of special needs of teenage girls. Her address is Convent of the Good Shepherd; Cushing Hill Drive; Marlboro, Massachusetts 01752. The hopeful days of ecumenism following Vatican Council II in the 1960s highlighted a maj6r difference between Catholics and Protestants, namely, devotion to Mary. For a long time after the Reformation in the sixteenth century, there was an absence of any productive or even respect-ful communication between us, and consequently there was little under-standing of each other's point of view, especially regarding the mother of Jesus. Historical Background Devotion to Mary, an outstanding characteristic of most Catholics, became the dividing line, with symbolic rather than logical origins. Mary represented Catholicism, against which the Reformers were protesting on the Continent. About the same time in England, the suppression of Catholicism un-der Henry VIII was more specifically directed against the papacy. The destruction of monasteries, however, depri red the people of religious in-struction and centers where Mary was honored; as a consequence, devo-tion to her almost died out. Elizabeth I, motivated politically rather than religiously, continued her father's efforts to dominate Ireland, capitalizing on the anti- Catholic movement by implementing the policy of "Anglicization 342 Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 343 through Protestantization." In Ireland, the mere possession of a rosary was sufficient evidence of treason against the Crown, and was punish-able by death. Under Cromwell's dictatorship in England, Anglicanism, as well as Catholicism, was repressed, and even the celebration of Christmas was forbidden. "Where was the Blessed Mother in thought and practice if her son's birthday was repudiated by the law of the land?"~ Divinity vs. Discipleship Influenced by the history and the politics of the times, misunderstand-ings grew in regard to the Church's attitude toward Mary. Protestants were disturbed about the apparent centrality of devotion to Mary; it seemed to be taking something away from Christ. Non-Roman Catho-lics balk at giving Mary the title of "Co-Redemptrix," fearing that Christ will be displaced as unique mediator of salvation.2 In time, Catholics were able to hear Protestants voice their concern about our apparent "divinization" of Mary, yet countless explanations to the contrary did not seem to convince them, either to put their fears at rest or to allow them the comfort and friendship of the Mother of God. The Council actually approached the subject of Mary with the concerns of non-Catholics in mind, even over the objections of some of the bish-ops, who felt that ecumenism should not be the focus of a document on Mary. Some wished her to be declared Mediatrix of All Graces, but this did not happen at the Council. Actually no separate document on Mary materialized. In the final analysis, Mary appears in the context of the document on the Church. In a discussion of Christ (the Redeemer) and the Church (the Redeemed), she is very clearly identified with the Church, the people of God, rather than with Christ, the Son of God. The document portrays her, not as Christo-typical but as Ecclesio-typical. The implications of this decision were far-reaching indeed. First, this is a very different focus from that to which we have been accustomed. We have tended to see Jesus and Mary together, and while Mary was by no means deified, we did tend to .pray to them together. We looked up to them. Her stance now, however, is with us, the re-deemed, the beneficiaries of the passion and death of Christ. Discipleship Part of the reason for the change seems to be the emphasis on Mary's role in Scripture as disciple. As a hearer of God's word, she is an out-standing disciple of Christ, and she is logically first among his disciples :344 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 and members of the Church. The concept of disciple, clearly presented in .the Scripture, seems to be more acceptable to our Protestant brethren and carries with it no overtones of divinity. All four Evangelists as a matter of fact paint her portrait as the faith-ful disciple, and in so doing, they reflect this role as seeming to surpass her title of Mother of God. "Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that nursed you," cried a woman in the crowd, to whom Jesus responded, "Yea, blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it" (Lk 12:27-28). "Your mother and brethren are outside, awaiting you," he was told, and he deftly responded with a question: "Who is my mother? Who are my brethren? He who does the will of my Father, is mother, brother, and sister to me" (Mk 3:31-35). Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and the disciple whom Je-sus loved. "Woman, behold thy son," he said; then to John, "Behold thy mother" (Jn 19:25-27). Jesus is speaking to his ideal followers, who henceforth will model discipleship for all who desire to follow the Mas-ter. It struck me while comparing these Gospel passages that the Evan-gelists are at great pains to demonstrate that Mary's dignity comes from the fact that she was a woman of faith, which is the outstanding charac, teristic of a disciple. She was open to the word of God and completely obedient in carrying out whatever it called her to do. Whether it was ac-ceptance of the angelic message ("be it done unto me according to thy word," Lk i:38) or responding to the call to go to Bethlehem, then Egypt, and finally Calvary, she modeled clearly for us what the disciple of Christ should be. Grace and Discipleship No one, it seems, could be faulted for honoring one who followed Christ so perfectly. Yet, here again, differing beliefs on grace playa part. Protestants believe that salvation is effected by God alone, that hu-man nature plays no role. Protestants tend to view human nature as totally corrupted by sin, and grace as the merciful disposition of God to forgive and to treat the sin-ner as justified . To speak of human cooperation is to underestimate either the radical nature of human sin or the absolute gratuity of grace. In this perspective (from the Protestant point of view) the use of Mary's fiat becomes a primary example of Catholic presumption of God's sov-ereignty, making God dependent on humanity or making a creature mu-tually effective with God in the work of redemption.3 Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 345 Resistance to the title "Co-Redemptrix" is related to this belief also. The Catholic point of view has been adequately stated, and to quote Tambasco again: "Mary's life simply reflects the fullest effects of grace which enable a faith-filled freedom that responds to and engages in the sovereign work of God in Christ .F.reedom does not substitute for grace, or grace, freedom."4 Because she is preeminent in carrying out his word, Mary's signifi-cance lies, according to the synoptics, in this characteristic of disci-pleship, more than the fact that she is Jesus's natural mother. At the foot of the cross, howe~,er, the beloved disciple, John, and the faithful disci-ple, Mary, seem to be called to discipleship in terms of a family rela-tionship, specifically that of mother and son. The role of disciple now seems to be expressed best in terms of mothering! Discipleship And Motherhood Actually, Mary conceived Jesus by means of an act of faith, the mark of the disciple: When the invitation to be Christ's mother is proposed to her, she says, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to thy word" (Lk 1:38). And then the Word becomes flesh . Faith comes first, and then motherhood. John, too, is to carry out his discipleship in similar terms. In his First Letter, John's words are as tender as any mother's: "Remain in him now, little ones . See what love the Father has bestowed on us in letting us be called the children of God! Yet that is what we are' (1 Jn 2:28; 3:1). Mothering is what disciples do. Whatever our ministry is, we hope to bring to it compassion and caring. As a teacher l felt honored to be involved in nurturing the intellectual and spiritual growth of students. The Scriptures are full of mother images that apply not only to a disci-ple but were, in fact, chosen by the Lord for himself. The scriptural im-age of Christ weeping over Jerusalem is very explicit: "How often have I wanted to gather your children together as a mother bird collects her young under her wings, and you refused me!" (Lk 13:34). The disciple of Christ shares in his life-giving approach to those to whom he has been sent. Life-giving calls up images of motherhood, and lately it has been very popular to speak of God as Mother. Julian of Nor-wich often prayed to "Mother Jesus." Mary images motherhood for us, not only her own, but the motherhood of Christ as well. Even the Apos-tle Paul says: "You are my children, and you put me back in labor pains until Christ is formed in you" (Ga 4:!9). Finally the God of the Old Testament speaks through Isaiah: "Can 346 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 a mother forget her infant, or a woman be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Yet even if she should forget, I will never forget you" (Is 49:15). It looks to me that, although Protestants accept the fact that Mary is the mother of.Jesus, they do not seem to see her as their mother, too. While we sometimes see ourselves in the role of mothering, at other times we, too, need to be nurtured or affirmed. The mother of Jesus seems to be a natural one to turn to, especially since we understand that she has been given to us in the words spoken to John, "Behold thy mother" (Jn 19:27). The motherly qualities so ~befitting a disciple are surely present in a special way in Mary, the paramount disciple of all. Doctrine, Scripture, And Tradition Another possible ecumenical barrier regarding Mary is the dogma of the Immaculate Conception (Mary conceived without sin) and the dogma of the Assumption (Mary taken into heaven, body and soul.) A dogma is a doctrine that has been presented for belief, and the idea of the evo-lution of dogma is an enlightening one for many, Catholics included. A doctrine emerges from tradition, which has been explained as follows: Tradition is the living faith experience of the Church which preserves the truths enunciated in the Scriptures but also explicates these truths, draws out what is hidden, and develops more fully insights consistent with but not wholly expressed in the biblical text.5 As has been better expressed above, sometimes a dogma affirms what was not known in complete form from the beginning, but devel-oped from reflections on, for example, the mystery of the Incarnation, and has been the constant teaching of the Church for centuries. Dogma may appear to have been imposed exteriorly, in a context that is a-historical. The vagueness of its scriptural basis is difficult for Protestants, who are biblically, and therefore, historically, oriented. Rootedness in history and Scripture, sources that are being mined assiduously by Catho-lics today, may well provide the undergirding necessary to place devo-tion to Mary in properperspective for all. The aforementioned dogmas on Mary were defined during what we now call the Marian Age (1850 to 1950), although they have been part of the tradition of the Church since the sixth century. Belief (in the Assumption) originated not from biblical evidence nor even patristic testimony but as the conclusion of a so-called argument from convenience or fittingness. It was fitting that Jesus should have res-cued his mother from the corruption of the flesh and so he must have Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 347 taken her bodily into heaven.6 At the end of the sixth century, they began to celebrate the Immacu-late Conception in the East, but it remained unknown in the West until the eleventh century . To eastern ears, which had a different under-standing of original sin, it meant only freedom from mortality and genu-ine human weakness.7 Such doctrines are based on what has been described as "theology from above," or an understanding of the Incarnation as originating in the Trinity. When the Father sent his Son to earth to be born of the Vir-gin Mary, it was incompatible with his nature that the Son would inherit original sin, taught to be transmitted through birth into the human race. Therefore, it was appropriate that Mary be conceived immaculate. The honor is for the sake of Jesus, not Mary. The Communion Of Saints An understanding of the communion of saints, a belief shared by both Catholics and Protestants, may be helpful in seeing Mary's role more clearly. The idea seems to have originated with the martyrs who gave their lives for Christ, and, as a result, were believed to be enjoying his presence and the rewards of their sacrifice. Obviously, they would be in a unique position to be allowed by God to hear the prayers of those still struggling on and would be willing and able to offer these petitions for help to Christ himself, in whose presence they now live. The idea of intercessory prayer is accepted by most people, who pray not only to the saints who have distinguished themselves in the service of God, but to their own friends and relatives who led good lives on earth and as-suredly are still mindful of the needs of those they have left behind. Peo-ple who are still living are also asked to pray for the intentions of oth-ers! That people should present their petitions to Mary in order that she might intercede with her Son for them follows logically in this tradition. It would seem that he would be especially attentive to one who was his model disciple on earth, to one who spent, her life hearing his word and accomplishing it, especially if she were interceding for one who was ask-ing her help to be an effective disciple also. - In ordinary life we often speak to someone with influence in order to present our case. Such is the nature of intercessory prayer, not to be confused with praying directly to Mary,'as if she were able to grant these petitions herself. Protestants dislike seeing Mary in the role of Media-tor, since Jesus Christ is the one Mediator. A movement at the Council to declare Mary Mediatrix of all Graces was scrapped, although this be- Review for Religious, May-June 1989 lief has been part of the tradition of the Church since the eighth century. The ecumenical dimension of the Council reflected the Church's percep-tion of herself now as a world church, with respect for the truth possessed by all churches. Theology -From-Below The contributions of Karl Rahner to contemporary religious thought seem to have great value for the ecumenical movement. Rahner, consid-ered to be one of the greatest theologians of our time, is especially im-pressed with the sacramentality of creation--the fact that God himself is revealed in his works. When creation first came from the hand of God as recorded in Genesis, it was seen to be good--to be holy. God was in his creation from the beginning. Although it was good, it was not com-plete, and in the p.rogress of time, all creation moves to fulfillment, which is finally achieved in Jesus Christ. Rahner's idea is that Christ emerged naturally from God's creation, rather than emphasizing his "being sent down from heaven." He says things often like "the more one is like Christ, the more he is truly him- ~elf." To be like Christ is to approach being a perfect human being. Rahner's ideas allow for experiential learning on the part of Jesus, like any human person going through the normal stages of growth and de-velopment. This Christology is very attractive to a Catholic today, and perhaps it has been better known to Protestants all along. This Christology does not deny his divinity, of course, but the em-phasis is very different from the implications of the theology:from-above design, which seems to emphasize his divinity more, although it does not deny his humanity. One argument advanced was that since one is the mother of a person, rather than a nature, it seemed logical to em-phasize Mary as Mother of God. "In 451," writes Charles W. Dickson, a Lutheran pastor who has served as Chairman of the Commission on Ecumenical Relations of the North Carolina Council of Churches: the Council of Chalcedon dealt with the subject of dual natures by af-firming the inseparability of the two natures, each nature being pre-served and concurring in one person (prosopon) and one subsistence (hy-postasis). 8 Reverend Dickson continues: If this Chalcedonian formulation is given serious attention in contem-porary Protestant thought, some feel the human nature of Christ will not continue to suffer the devaluation of the past, nor will, therefore, its pre- Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 349 cursor in the Incarnation--the Virgin Mary.9 The title, Mother of God, does seem to imply that Mary is divine, and although Protestants accept Mary as the mother of Jesus, tradition-ally they seem to resist the title of "Mother of God." In pagan mythol-ogy, the mother of the god or gods was considered to be a goddess. There seemed to be anxiety in New Testament times from the beginning not to equate Mary with the pagan goddesses, and although this distinc-tion has always been understood by Catholics, it may have looked to Prot-estants that we were divinizing Mary. Popular Religion - An Aid To Ecumenism? In view of the ecumenical dimension, the relationship between sym-bol, basic human need, and religion is very important. Clifford Geertz says that religious symbols provide not only the ability to comprehend the world but to endure it. Man depends upon symbols and symbol systems with a dependence so great as to be decisive for his creatural viability and, as a result, his sen-sitivity to even the remotest indication that they may prove unable to cope with one or another aspect of experience, raises within him the grav-est source of anxiety. ~0 In worship, people tend to clothe God with attributes that will meet their innermost needs. Sometimes in the past the abstract definitions of the theologians left people cold. God was oftentimes seen to be a dis-tant, transcendent God, and a judging God, who dispensed rewards and punishments in strict accordance with one's deeds. People were longing to see him as loving and compassionate, like a mother. If ordinary Catholics had been accustomed to reading the Scripture for themselves, as they are beginning to do now since Vatican II, they might have experienced firsthand the motherly concern of Jesus for the poor, the sick, and the scorned. Probing the Bible now, one is touched, for example, by his attitude toward women, especially disgraced women, regardless of the disapproval of males present. I do understand, however, that Bible reading for Catholics was sharply curtailed at the time of the Reformation due to so many people leaving the Church because of pri-vate interpretation of the Scripture. We understand now that in God there is a perfect balance of so-called masculine and feminine qualities; thanks to insightsfrom psychol-ogy, we are more theologically sophisticated than our predecessors. How-ever, in the early centuries of Christianity, people turned to the feminine Mary, in whom they felt that they had a ready-made mother who cared 350/Review for Religious, May-June 1989 about them. Based, no doubt, on the idea of the communion of saints and the practice of asking for the intercession of the martyrs, who were surely with God, there was a normal development of devotion to Mary, who, as the mother of Jesus, w,a_.,s seen to be more than willing to help those for whom her Son died such a cruel death. Popular Religion And The Apparitions When Catholics finally turn to the Scripture for news of Mary, they are amazed at how little is there! The immense body of material that is available on Mary derives from tradition and also from popular religion, which is based on Mary's relationship to Jesus ~nd the needs of people. Our knowledge of her has been shaped also by .accounts of her various appearances throughout the world. However, as Tambasco comments: ". (the) return to biblical and ecumenical considerations has rightly reduced these devotions to a minor role (p. 71)." Their value is in the Gospel teaching that each affirms. The Church moves very slowly in granting approval for belief in ap-paritions, and even when approval is received, there is no obligation to believe. The one important guideline in regard to any appearance is the fact that nothing is presented or ordered that is contrary to the constant teaching of the Church. An example would be when Mary reportedly appeared to Catherine Labour6 in France in 1830 and to Bernadette Soubirous in Lourdes, also in France, in 1858, she said, "I am the Immaculate Conception," a tra-dition in the Church since the sixth century. At LaSalette she insisted on the observance of the Lord's Day, which the people were ignoring, treating Sunday as any other day. She also re-proved them for blasphemy and taking the Lord's name in vain, thus un-derscoring the second and third commandments. At Fatima she asked them to do penance and to pray for peace. In 1879 at Knock, in County Mayo in Ireland, she said nothing at all! She appeared with St. Joseph and St. John, beside an altar sur-mounted by a lamb and a cross, over which angels hovered. The Irish saw in her appearance a message of comfort for the persecution they had suffered for their faith, dating back to the sixteenth century. They iden-tified the symbols with those of the heavenly liturgy in the Book of Reve-lation, seeing in them an affirmation of their fidelity to worship. Priests had risked their lives to offer the Sacrifice of the Mass, symbolized by the Lamb. St. John the Evangelist is holding the Gospel book in one hand, with the other hand raised, as if he is making a point in a sermon. Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 35"1 The theme or instruction accompanying each visit was not a new teaching in any way, but an old teaching which needed a new emphasis, depending on the times. When I was at Knock in 1987, I remember think-ing to myself: it really doesn't matter whether Mary actually appeared here or not! All around me at the shrine there was evidence of faith, as people prayed, participated in the liturgy, reflected on the passion of Christ at the stations, or were merely kind and friendly to each other. I felt a renewal of my own spirituality in such a faith-filled atmosphere. The element of pilgrimage is, of course, very strong at Knock, and pil-grimage from the earliest days has been a vibrant expression of popular religion among people. Pilgrimage Pilgrimages stemming from the apparition at Lourdes are legendary. According to Victor and Edith Turner (Image & Pilgrimage in Christian Culture, New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 1978), who did an anthropological study on popular religion, people do not necessarily go on pilgrimage for the cure, but for the atmosphere in which their spiritu-ality is nourished. People see a pilgrimage, or a journey, as a symbol of the journey of life, and they value their association with fellow trav-elers oriented toward God in the service of neighbor. There is a leveling of classes on a pilgrimage; kings travel with ordinary folk, as will be the case in heaven. They volunteer as stretcher-bearers or wherever there is a need, and are energized in the role of service to their fellow human be-ings. In writing about pilgrimages to the shrine of Our Lady at Guadalupe, Segundo Galilea says that here the rich can discover the world of the poor and become sensitive to their need for justice and reconciliation. The movement towards Mary obliges the rich to go out of themselves and to meet the poor. It gives the poor a sense of security and allows them to meet the rich without apology, on an equal footing. Mary is, then, one of the rare symbols of integration in Latin America . ~ The apparition at Guadalupe in i 53 I, perhaps one of the first appa-ritions on record, is said to to be a large factor in popular religion in Latin America, and as a result, has given impetus to the liberation theology movement there. It has touched the hearts of the oppressed, making them feel that they are loved by God, and consequently raised in their own self-esteem, to the point where they are seriously struggling for self-determination in their living situation there. 352 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 Mary and Liberation Theology A new reading of Luke's gospel, which emphasizes salvation his-tory, yields much that is pertinent today in regard to saving, or liberat-ing, the oppressed. Accustomed as we are to seeing Mary as queen, it is a new thing for us Catholics to see Mary as a peasant woman as she was at Guadalupe, and, indeed, at Nazareth. It is a challenge for us to take another look at the Magnificat, which we sing every day in the Liturgy of the Hours. There are places in South America where the recitation of the Magnifi-cat is forbidden, as being subversive. Mary's song begins with the praise of God. "My soul proclaims the glory of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my Savior." The use of the word Savior emphasizes her stance with us, in need of salvation. She re-fers to herself as his lowly handmaid, on whom he has looked with fa-vor. All generations will call her blessed because he, the mighty one, has done great things for her. In countries where there is no middle class, but only the poor and the rich, who possess all the wealth of the land, the poor hear Mary's Magnificat message in the Virgin of Guadalupe: He has shown might in his arm; he has scattered the proud in their con-ceit. He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent away empty (Lk 1:51-53). They look to God for the mercy he promised to "our fathers,"-- and here all peoples sharing the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of Christ, unite in looking back even to the patriarchs, to whom God prom-ised mercy and liberation, which was accomplished first through Moses and eventually through Jesus Christ. And now there is hope for these poor also. The Exodus and Exile theme of liberation fit the situaiion to-day. A new look at Scripture will allow us to see Mary as homeless and as an exile, driveh out of her homeland to Egypt for the safety of her child. Popular religion often forges ahead of the theologians, and the hier-archy has only recently given its approval to the liberation theology move-ment in Latin America. A Latin American theologian says that the Mariology of Vatican II was more preoccupied by dialogue and relations with Protestants than with the simple people and popular Mariology. What is important now is to prolong the'deep and rich Mariological affirmations of Vatican II by a popular Mariology, a renewed Mariology . ~2 Mary, Bridge to Ecumenism? / 353 The basic idea of this renewed Mariology is that Mary is the sign and sacrament of the motherly mercy of God towards the poor, of the ten-derness of God who loves and defends the poor (Puebla, no. 291). ~3 (ital-ics mine) How will these considerations serve as an ecumenical bridge for us? By recognizing the need among peoples for freedom of conscience, free-dom from oppression, freedom of religion, justice for all. It is said that the problem with the doctrines presented for belief in former days was not with the dogmas themselves, but with authority. (Belief in the Im-maculate Conception predated the Reformation.) The wording was that he who did not believe, let him be anathema! Even Martin Luther did not deny the doctrines themselves, but pronounced them pious opinions. John XXIII insisted that there be no condemnations! He condemned no one. Evangelization itself must be an invitation, even a lure, to Christi-anity. No one is to be coerced in this matter in any way. John Paul II in Mother of the Redeemer.says that the Church's jour-ney now, near the end of the second Christian millennium, involves a renewed commitment to her mission. In the words of the Magnificat, the Church renews in herself the awareness that the truth about God who saves cannot be separated from his love of preference for the poor and humble, expressed in the word and works of Jesus. These points are di-rectly related to the Christian meaning of freedom and liberation' (p. 51 ). One must be free from oppression in order to respond to the call of Christ to do one's part toward the building up of the kingdom of God. In discussing Mary's role at the wedding feast at Cana, when she ad-vised Jesus that "they had no wine," the Pope sees this as expressing a new kind of motherhood according to the spirit and not just according to the flesh, that is to say, Mary's solicitude for human beings, her com-ing to th'em in the wide variety of their wants and needs (P. 30-1). I feel that the orientation toward ecumenism observed at Vatican Council II, especially in regard to Mary, has borne fruit and hopefully will continue to do so in the future. I am intrigued by the interpretation offered by Edward Yarnold in regard to reconciling Protestants and Catholics in regard to the Immacu-late Conception and the Assumption. It is possible that Christians disagree over the symbolic form of doctrine, while not disagreeing over the theological meaning. Thus, Roman Catho-lics could take literally that Mary was immaculately conceived and then assumed into heaven, but that is just the symbolic meaning. Protestants might not agree with that, but could accept the ultimate theological mean- 354/Review for Religious, May-June 1989 ing that says God's grace requires response, providers conditions for re-sponse, and results in sanctification even after death. There would thus be theological unity with a plurality regarding symbolic meaning. ~'~ When the late Rev. Arthur Carl Piepkorn, was professor at Concor-dia Seminary, St. Louis, he explained that "other Christians" (he did not refer to them as non-Catholics) have taken hope from references to Mary at Vatican II as follows: It may yet happen in our time that there will come about a happy bal-ance between excess ardor in the veneration of the Mother of God and in excessive coldness to the role that God himself has given her in the drama of human salvation. If it does, as I pray it will, we shall see in our time what the "Mag-nificat" placed on the lips of the mother of God--'All generations will count me blessed.' Other Christians feel that the more we esteem Mary, the more we honor her Son; when men (sic) refuse to honor Mary, they really do not believe in the Incarnation.~5 NOTES ~ William L. Lahey, "The Blessed Virgin Mary in the Theology and Devotion of the Seventeenth-Century Anglican Divines," Marian.Studies,,XXXVlll (1987), p. 143. 2 Anthony J. Tambasco, "Mary in Ecumenical Perspective," What Are They Say-ing About Mary? (Ramsey, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 54. 3 lbid, p. 57. '~ lbid, p. 58. 5 lbid, p. 60. 6 Richard P. McBrien, Catholicism (Minneapolis: Winston Press Inc., 1980), p. 873. 7 Ibid. 8 Charles W. Dickson, Ph.'D., "Is a Protestant Mariology Possible?" Queen of All Hearts (Vol. XXXIX, No. 4) Nov./Dec. 1988, p. 26. Quoted from Willison Walker-- A History.of the Christian Church, p. 139. 9 lbid, p. 26. ~0 Clifford Geertz, "Religion as a Cultural System," Anthropological Approaches to the Study of Religion (London: Travistock Publications, Ltd., 1968), p. 13. ~ Segundo Galilea, "Mary in Latin American Liberation Theologies," ed. Bertrand de Margerie, S.J., Marian Studies, XXXVIII (1987), p. 57. ~2 Victor Codina, "Mary in Latin American Liberation Theologies," ed. Bertrand de Margerie, S.J., Marian Studies, XXXVIII (1987), p. 49. ~3 Ibid. 14 Quoted in Tambasco, What Are They Saying About Mary? p. 64. ~5 "Lutheran Hails Mary in Vatican ll's Words," The Boston Pilot (June 29, 1973), p. 2. Prayer and Devotion to Mary: A Bibliography Thomas G. Bourque, T.O.R. Father Thomas Bourque, T.O.R., is Chairperson of the Philosophical and Religious Studies Department of St. Francis College in Loretto, Pennsylvania. He has been involved in youth ministry, parish ministry, and the ministry of Catholic education and adul( education. His address is St. Francis College; Loretto, PA 15940. The Marian Year is meant to promote a new and more careful reading of what the Council said about the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, in the mystery of Christ and of the Church . We speak not only of the doctrine of faith but also of the life of faith, and thus of authentic "Marian spirituality," seen in the light of tradition, and especially the spirituality to which the Council exhorts us. Marian spirituality, like its corresponding devotion, finds a very rich source in the historical expe-rience of individuals and of the various Christian communities present among the different peoples and nations of the world. John Paul II Mother of the Redeemer, #48 ~,lohn Paul II invites all of us to reflect upon our.journey of faith with our Lord in light of our relationship with his Mother Mary. As many Catho-lics and Christians continue to question the role of Mary in the Church today, the Pope's encyclical is very timely. Solid devotion to Mary can only spring from an authentic knowledge of her role in salvation history. The Mariology of John Paul lI's encyc-lical, Mother of the Redeemer, as well as the Mariology of Paul Vl's ex-hortation, Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, can truly be summed in the words of Paul VI: "In Mary, everything is relative to Christ and de-pendent upon him." Both pontiffs remind us that Mary is never to be 355 356 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 considered in isolation. She must be seen in relationship to Christ, the head, and to his Body, the Church. Both Paul VI and John Paul II con-tinually link Mary to Christ, and not only is Mary Mother of Jesus, but also to the Church. The basic principle of Mariology is that Mary is Mother and Associ-ate of the Redeemer. She is a woman of faith, simplicity, loving avail-ability, and a disciple of faith. As a follow-up to the Marian year, the following selected bibliogra-phy is offered as an aid for reflection and prayer. This selected bibliog-raphy can serve as a guide to study and reflection on the contemporary devotion to Mary. The concentration of this work is a modern approach to Mariology from the time of the apostolic exhortation, Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, to the time of promulgation of the encyclical let-ter, Mother of the Redeemer. The selected bibliography is divided into four sections. The first sec-tion consists of books which deal with Marian prayer, devotion and spiri-tuality. The second section lists articles from periodicals from the years 1974 to 1987. Encyclicals and pastoral letters are cited in the third sec-tion, while typescripts and tape cassettes of value are cited in the fourth section. Books and Pamphlets: Ashe, Geoffrey. The Virgin. London: Routledge and Paul, 1976. ¯ Bojorge, Horacio. The Image of Mary: According to the Evangelists. New York: Alba House, 1978. Branick, Vincent P., ed. Mary, the Saint and the Church. Ramsey, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1980. Brown, Raymond E., ed. Mary in the New Testament. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978. Buby, Bertrand. Mary: The Faithful Disciple~. New York: Paulist Press, 1985. Callahan, Sidney. The Magnificat: The Prayer of Mary. New York: Seabury Press, 1975. Carberry, John Cardinal. Mary Queen and Mother: Marian Pastoral Reflections. Boston: St. Paul Editions, 1979. Carretto, Carlo. Blessed Are You Who Believed. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1982. Carroll, Eamon R. Understanding the Mother of Jesus. Wilmington, Delaware: Michael Glazier, Inc., 1979. Cunningham, Lawrence and Sapieha, Nicolas. Mother of God. San Francisco: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1982. A Mary Bibliography / 357 Deiss, Lucien. Mary, Daughter of Zion. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1972. Flanagan, Donal. In Praise of Mary. Dublin: Veritas Publications, 1975. --. The Theology of Mary. Hales Corner, Wisconsin: Clergy Book Service, 1976. Flannery, Austin P. The Documents of Vatican II. New York: Pillar Books, 1975. Graef, Hilda C. Mary: A History of Doctrine and Devotion. New York: Sheed and Ward, Two Volumes, (Volume I, 1963 and Volume II, 1965). --. The Devotion to Our Lady. Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1963. Greeley, Andrew M. The Mary Myth: On the Femininity of God. New York: Seabury Press, 1977. Griolet, Pierre. You Call Us Together." Prayers For the Christian As-sembly. Paramus, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1974. Guste, Bob. Mary At My Side. Mystic: Twenty-Third Publications, 1986. Habig, Marion. The Franciscan Crown. Chicago: Franciscan Her-ald Press, 1976. Harrington, W. J. The Rosary: A Gospel Prayer. Canfield, Ohio: Alba House, 1975. Haughton, Rosemary. Feminine Spirituality: Reflections on the Mys-tery of the Rosary. Paramus, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1976. Hertz, G. Following Mary Today. Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, 1979. Houselander, Caryil. Lift Up Your Hearts to Mary, Peace, Prayer, Love. New York: Arena Letters, 1978. Hurley, Dermot. Marian Devotion For Today. Dublin: C. G. Neale, 1971. Jegen, Carol Frances. Mary According To Women. Kansas City: Leaven Press, 1985. Jelly, Frederick. Madonna: Mary in the Catholic Tradition. Hunt-ington, Indiana: Our Sunday .Visitor Press, 1986. Johnson, Ann. Miryam of Judah: Witness in Truth and Tradition. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987. --. Miryam of Nazareth. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1986. Jungman, Joseph A. Christian Prayer Through The Centuries. New York: Paulist Press, 1978. 351t/Review for Religious~ May-June 1989 Kern, Walter. New Liturgy and Old Devotions. Staten Island, New York: Alba House, 1979, 119-184. Kung, Hans and Moltmann, Jurgen. ed. Mary in the Churches. New York: Seabury Press, 1983, Concilium, volume 168. La Croix, Francois de. The Little Garden of Our Blessed Lady. Ilkley, England: Scholar Press, 1977. Long, Valentine. The Mother of God. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1976. Maestri, William. Mary: Model of Justice. New York: Alba House, 1987. Malinski, Mieczslaw. Joyful, Sorrowful, Glorious Reflections on Life and Rosary. Chicago: Claretian Publications, 1979. Maloney, George A. Mary: The Womb of God. Denville, New Jer-sey: Dimension Books, 1976. Moloney, John. Pilgrims With Mary. Dublin, Ireland: Irish Messen-ger, 1976. Obbard, Elizabeth Ruth. Magnificat: The Journey and the Song. New York: Paulist Press, 1986. Pelikan, Jaroslav. Flusser, David. Lang, Justin. Mary: Images of the Mother of Jesus in Jewish and Christian Perspective. Philadelphia: For-tress Press, 1986. Pennington, Basil. Daily We Touch Him. Garden City, New Jersey: Doubleday, 1977, 135-148. Rahner, Karl. Mary, Mother of the Lord. New York: Herder and Herder, 1963. Randall, John. Mary, Pathway To Fruitfulness. Locust Valley, New York: Living Flame Press, 1978. Ratzinger, Joseph. Daughter Zion: Meditations On The Church's Marian Belief. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1983. Rosage, David. Praying With Mary. Locust Valley, New York: Liv-ing Flame Press, 1980. Ruether, Rosemary Radford. Mary, the Feminine Face of the Church. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1977. Schillebeeckx, Edward. Mary, Mother of the Redemption. London: Sheed and Ward, 1964, 164ff. Sheed, Frank. The Instructed Heart--Soundings At Four Depths. Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, 1979. Stevens, Clifford. The Blessed Virgin: Her L~]'e & Her Role In Our Lives. Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, 1986. Tambasco, Anthony. What Are They Saying About Mary? New A Mary Bibliography / 359 York: Paulist Press, 1984. Unger, Dominic J. The Angelus. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1956. Viano, Joseph. Two Months With Mary. New York: Alba House, 1984. Wright, John Cardinal. Mary Our Hope. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1984. Articles: Abberton, J. "On the Parish: Marian Devotion." Clergy Review. 63 (April 1978), 147-150. Albrecht, Barbara. "Mary: Type and Model of the Church." REvtEw ~oR REt~tG~Ot~S. 36 (1977), 517-524. Alfaro, Juan. "The Marioiogy of the Fourth Gospel: Mary and the Struggles for Liberation." Biblical Theology Bulletin. 10 (January 1980), 3-16. Barrionveuo, C. "For A Better Rosary." Christ to the Christian World. 18 (I 979), 304-307. Billy, Dennis J. "The Marian Kernel." REview ~oR R~t.~ous. 43 (May/June 1983), 415-420. Blackburn, Robert E. "The Reed of God Continues To Flourish." U.S. Catholic. 47 (May 1982), 2. Browne, Dorothy. "Mary, the Contemplative." Spiritual Life. 23 (Spring 1977), 49-60. Buby, B. "The Biblical Prayer of Mary: Luke 2:19-51 ." R~v~w RE~.tG~Ot~S. 39 (July 1980), 577-581. Buono, Anthony M. "The Oldest Prayers to Mary." Catholic Di-gest. 48 (August 1984), 111-113. Burns, Robert E. "Don't Let Sleeping Devotions Lie." U.S. Catho-lic. 52 (January 1987), 2. Carberry, John Cardinal. "Marialis Cultis: A Priestly Treasure." Homiletic and Pastoral Review. 78 (May ! 978), 7-13. Carroll, Eamon. "A Survey of Recent Marioiogy." Marian Stud-ies. 36 (1985), 101-127. b. "A Survey of Recent Mariology." Marian Studies. 35 (1984), 157-187. --. "A Survey of Recent Marioiogy." Marian Studies. 31 (1980), 11-154 (Similar surveys may be found within volumes 24 to 31 of Marian Studies). b. "A Woman For All Seasons." U.S. Catholic. 39 (October 1974), 6-11. 360 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 --. "In the Company of Mary." Modern Liturgy. 9 (May 1982), 4-10. -- "Mary After Vatican II." St. Anthony Messenger. 91 (May 1984), 36-40. --. "Mary and the Church: Trends in Marian Theology Since Vati-can II." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 248- 250. --. "Mary, Blessed Virgin: Devotion." New Catholic Encyclope-dia. 9 (1967), 364-369. -- "Mary: The Woman Come Of Age." Marian Studies. 36 (1985), 136-160. --. "Prayer and Spirituality: The Blessed Virgin Mary in Catholic Prayer-Life." Today Catholic Teacher. 12 (March 1979), 40-41. Chantraine, George. "Prayer Within the Church." Communio. 12 (Fall 1985), 258-275. Ciappi, L. "The Blessed Virgin Mary Today and the Contemporary Appeal of the Rosary." Origins. 44 (October 30, 1975), 4. Clark, Allan. "Marialis Cultus." Tablet. 228 (April 6, 1974), 354- 356. Colavechio, X. "The Relevance of Mary." Priest. 36 (June 1980), 14-16. Coleman, William V. "A Peasant Woman Called to Guide the Church." Today's Parish. 13 (May-June 1981), 7. Coiledge, E. "The Church At Prayer: To The Mother of God." Way. 19 (July 1979), 230-239 and 19 (October 1979), 314-321. Conner, Paul. "The Rosary Old Or New?" Sisters Today. 59 (Oc-tober 1986), 108- I 10. Curran, Patricia. "Women Reclaim the Magnificat." Sisters Today. 55 (August-September 1983), 24-30. Daly, Anne Carson. "A Woman For All Ages." Homiletic and Pas-toral Review. 86 (May 1986), 19-22. Davies, Brian A. "Mary In Christian Practice." Doctrine and Life. 26 (June 1976), 403-407. Deak, Mary Ann. "Mary's Faith: A Model For Our Own." Catho-lic Update. UPD 108 (I 978). Dehne, Carl. "Roman Catholic Popular Devotions." Worship. 49 (October 1975), 446-460. Demarco, A. "Hail Mary." New Catholic Encyclopedia. 6 (1967), 898. Donnelly, Dorothy H. "Mary, Model of Personal Spirituality." A Mary Bibliography / 361 New Catholic World. 219 (March-April 1976), 64-68. Emery, Andree. "On Devotion To Mary." New Covenant. 11 (May 1982), 12-14. Finley, Mitchel. "Rediscovering The Rosary." America. 148 (May 7, 1983), 351. Fischer, Patricia. "The Scriptural Rosary: An Ancient Prayer Re-vived." Catechist. 20 (October 1986), 21. Flanagan, Donald. "The Veneration of Mary: A New Papal Docu-ment." Furrow. 25 (1974), 272-277. Frehen, H. "The Principles of Marian Devotion." The Marian Era. 10 (1971), 34-36 and 272-277. Foley, Leonard. "Mary: Woman Among Us." St. Anthony Messen-ger. 94 (May 1987), 12-16. Gabriele, Edward. "In Search of the Woman: Reformulating the Mary Symbol in Contemporary Spirituality." Priest. 42 (February 1986), 28-29. Gaffney, John P. "APortrait of Mary." Cross and Crown. 24 ~Spring 1975), 129-138. h. "Marialis Cultis: Guidelines to Effective Preaching." Priest. 38 (December 1982), 14-18. Galligan, John Sheila. "Mary: A Mosaic Joy." REw~wFoR R~L~G~Ot~S. 43 (January-February 1984), 82-92. Galot, Jean. "Why the Act of Consecration to Our Lady?" Origins. 3 (January 18, 1982), Galvin, John P. "A Portrait of Mary In the Theology of Karl Rahner." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 280- 285. Gordon, Mary. "Coming To Terms With Mary." Commonweal. 109 (January 15, 1982), 1. Green, Austin~ "The Rosary: A Gospel Prayer." Cross and Crown. 28 (June 1976), 173-178. Grisdela, Catherine. "How May Processions Began." Religion Teacher's Journal. 18 (April-May 1984), 28. Gustafson, J. "A Woman For All Seasons." Modern Liturgy. 9 (May 1982), 4-10. Hamer, Jean Jerome Cardinal. "Mary, Our Foremost Model." Con-templative Life. 10 (1985), 173- i 74. Hanson, R. "The Cult of Mary as Development of Doctrine." Way ,Supplement. 51 (Fall 1984), 8-96. Hebblethwaite, P. "The Mariology of Three Popes." Way Supple- 369/Review for Religious, May-June 1989 merit. 51 (Fall 1984), 8-96. Herrera, Marina. "Mary of Nazareth in Cross-cultural Perspective." Professional Approaches For Christian Educators. 16 ( i 986), 236-240. Hinneburgh, W.A. "Rosary." New Catholic Encyclopedia. 12 (I 967), 667-670. Hofinger, Johannes. "Postconciliar Marian Devotions." Priest. 37 (January 1981), 43-45 and 37 (February 1981), 15-17. Hogan, Joseph. "Hail Mary." Sisters Today. 57 (January 1986), 258-261. Jegen, C. "Mary, Mother of a Renewing Church." Bible Today. 24 (May 1986), 143-166. Jelly, Frederick M. "Marian Dogmas Within Vatican II's Hierar-chy of Truths." Marian Studies. 27 (1976). --. "Marian Renewal Among Christians." Homiletic and Pastoral Review. 79 (May 1979), 8-16. --. "Reply to 'Homage To a Great Pope and His Marian Devotion: Paul VI.' " Marian Studies. 31 (1980), 96-98. -- "The Mystery of Mary's Meditation." Homiletic and Pastoral Review. 80 (May 1980), 11-20. Johnson, Elizabeth A. "The Marian Tradition and the Reality of Women." Horizons. 12 (Spring 1985), 116-135. Karris, Robert J. "Mary's Magnificat and Recent Study." REVIEW ~OR REt~G~OUS. 42 (November-December 1983), 903-908. Keolsch, Charity Mary. "Mary and Contemplation In the Market-place." Sisters Today. 54 (June-July 1983), 594-597. Kerrigan, Michael P. "The Beginnings Of A New And Prosperous Way of Life." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 251. Kleinz, John P. "How We Got The Hail Mary." Catholic Digest. 50 (May 1986), 55-57. Koehler, A. "Blessed From Generation to Generation: Mary In Pa-tristics and the History of the Church." Seminarium. 27 (1975), 578- 606. --. "Homage To A Great Pope And His Marian Devotion." Marian Studies. 31 (1980), 66-95. Krahan, Maria. "The Rosary." Mount Carmel. (Autumn 1977), 124-131. Kress, Robert. "Mariology and the Christian's Self-Concept." REVIEW ~OR RELiGiOUS. 31 (1972), 414-419. Lawrence, Claude. "The Rosary From the Beginning To Our Day." A Mary Bibliography / 363 Christian World. 28 (July-August 1983), 194-201. Leckey, Dolores. "The Rosary Time of My Life." Catholic Digest. 47 (October 1983), 57-58. Leskey, Roberta Ann. "Ways To Celebrate Mary." Religion Teacher's Journal. 17 (April-May 1983), 28-29. Lewela, M. Pauline. "Mary's Faith-Model Of Our Own: A Reflec-tion." Africa Theological Journal. 27 (April 1985), 92-98. Low, Charlotte. "The Madonna's Decline and Revival." Insight. (March 9, 1987), 61-63. MacDonald, Donald. "Mary: Our Encouragement In Christ." REviEw FOR REt.tG~Ot~S. 44 (May-June 1985), 350-359. -- "Our Lady of Wisdom." REvtzw FOR REt.~G~Ot~S. 46 (May-June 1986), 321-331. Main, John. "The Other-Centeredness of Mary." R~w~w FOR RELIG~Ot~S. 38 (March 1979), 267-278. Maloney, George A. "A New But Ancient Mariology." Diakonia. 8 (I 973). 303-305. -- "Do Not Be Afraid To Take Mary Home." Catholic Charis-matic. 1 (October-November 1976), 30-33. --. "Mary and the Church As Seen By the Early Fathers." Diakonia. 9 (1974). Marino, Eugene A. "Mary: The Link Between Liturgy and Doc-trine." Origins. 14 (December 27, 1984), 467-471. Marshner, William H. "Criteria For Doctrinal Development in Marian Dogmas." Marian Studies. 28 (1977), 47-97. "Mary and the Saints." National Bulletin on Liturgy. 12 (Septem-ber- October ! 979), 178-183. Mary Francis. "Blessed Mary: Model of Contemplative Life." Homi-letic and Pastoral Review. 8 i (Mary 1981), 6-12. Mary of the Sacred Heart. "Remember the Rosary." Religion Teacher's Journal. 20 (October 1986),39-40. McAteer, Joan. "What the Rosary Means to Me." Ligourian. 72 (October 1984), 16-20. McCarry, Vincent P. "Mary, Teach Us To Pray." Catholic Digest. 50 (May 1986), 40-43. McDermott, John Michael. "Time For Mary." Homiletic and Pas-toral Review. 83 (May ! 983), I i- 15. McHugh, John. "On True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary." The Way Supplement. 25 (Summer 1975), 69-79. McNamara, Kevin. "Devotion to The Immaculate Heart of Mary." 364 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 Furrow. 36 (October 1985), 599-604. -- "Mary Today." Furrow. 31 (July 1980), 428-450. Miller, Ernest F. "Why We Honor Mary?" Liguorian. 63 (August 1975), 13-15. Montague, George. "Behold Your Mother." New Covenant. 10 (May 198 I), 4-7. Moore, M. and Welbers, T. "The Rosary Revisited." Modern Lit-urgy. 9 (May 1982), 4-10. Motzel, Jaqueline. "Growing Through the Rosary." Liguorian. 73 (October 1985), 28-3 I. NC News Service. "Mary: An Image of Obedience and Freedom." Our Sunday Visitor. 75 (April 12, 1987), 17. Nienaltowski, Mary Ellen and Metz, Kathleen. "How Do We Pray The Rosary?" Religion Teacher's Journal. 21 (March 1987), 17-18. Noone, P. "Why Catholics Hail Mary?" U.S. Catholic. 44 (May 1979), 47-49. Nouwen, Henri J. "The Icon of the Virgin of Vladimir: An Invita-tion to Belong to God." America. 152 (May 1 I, 1985), 387-390. O'Carroll, M. "Recent Literature On Our Lady." Irish Theologi-cal Quarterly. 45 (I 978), 281-286. Offerman, Mary Columba. "Mary, Cause of Our Joy: A Bibliogra-phy On Mariology." REvl~.w ~oR RE~.~lous. 35 (1976), 730-734. Palazzini, P. "The Exhortation Marialis Cultus and the Rosary." Origins. 27 (July 4, 1974), 9-10. Pellegrino, M. "Comments on the Apostolic Exhortation: Marialis Cultus." L'Osservatore Romano. 35 (August 29, 1974), 3-1 I. Pennington, M. Basil. "The Rosary: An Ancient Prayer For All Of Us.'" Our Sunday Visitor. 72 (October 23, 1983), 3-ff. Peter, Val J. "Marian Theology and Spirituality." Communio. 7 (Summer 1980), 100-178. Puzon, B. "All Generations Shall Call Me Blessed." Sisters Today. 45 (May 1974), 533-537. Quinn, Jerome D. "Mary the Virgin, Mother of God." Bible To-day. 25 (May 1987), 177-180. Rasmussen, Eileen. "Accept Devotion To Mary." National Catho-lic Reporter. 11 (January 3 I, 1975), I I- 14. Rausch, Thomas P. "The Image of Mary: A Catholic Response." America. 146 (March 27, 1982), 231-234. Roberts, William P. "Mary and Today's Classroom." Catechist. 18 (April-May 1985), 28-29. A Mary Bibliography / 365 Schreck, Alan. "Devotion To Mary." New Covenant. 13 (July- August 1983), 14-18. Senior, Donald. "New Testament Images of Mary." Bible Today. 24 (May 1986), 143-166. Shea, John J. "Mary's Melody of Amazing Grace." U.S. Catho-lic. 47 (May 1982), 6-10. Smith, Herbert. "Mary: Mother and Disciple." Liguorian. 73 (Oc-tober 1985), 52-53. Smith, Joanmarie. "Re-Seeing the Rosary." Professional Ap-proaches for Christian Educators. 16 (1986), 12-15. Smith, Patricia. "Images and Insights: Mary In A Modern Mode." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 269-273. Smolenski, Stanley. "Rosary or Chaplet?" Homiletic and Pastoral Review. 86 (October 1985),9-15. Snyder, Bernadette. "Who's Praying the Rosary Today?" Liguorian. 74 (October 1986), 2-6. Speyr, A. "Prayer In The Life Of The Blessed Virgin." Commu-nio. 7 (Summer 1980), 113-126. Stahel, Thomas H. "Redemptoris Mater." America. 156 (May 2, 1987), 353-354. Tambasco, A. "Mary: A Biblical Portrait For Imitation." New Catholic World. 229 (November-December 1986), 244-271. Tannehill, R.C. "The Magnificat As Poem." Journal of Biblical Lit-erature. 93 (1974), 263-275. Tutas, Stephen R. 'Who Is Mary For Me?" REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 43 (September-October 1984), 778-780. Unger, Dominic J. "Does the New Testament Give Much Histori-cal Information About the Blessed Virgin or Mostly Symbolic Mean-ing?" Marianum. (1977), 323-347. Van Bemmel, John. "How To Pray The Rosary." Religion Teacher's Journal. 17 (April-May 1983), 29-30. Ward, Jack. "The Rosary-A Valuable Praying and Teaching Tool." Catechist. 19 (October 1985), 24-25. Ware, Kallistos, Timothy. "The Jesus Prayer and the Mother of God." Eastern Churches Review. (Autumn 1972), 149-150. Zyromski, Page. "Rosary Meditations Especially For Catechists." Catechist. 20 (October 1986), 20-22. Church Documents, Pastoral Letters and Addresses: John Paul II. "Address to a General Audience About the Rosary As An Opportunity of Pray With Mary." Origins. 44 (November 2, 1981 ), 366 / Review for Religious, May-June 1989 --. "Address to the Faithful About Mary and Her Spiritual Testa-ment." Origins. 30 (July 25, 1983), 2. --. "Address to the Faithful Saying That With the Rosary We Are Armed With the Cross and the Word." Origins. 41 (October 10, 1983), I. --. "Address to the Faithful Saying That Mary Is Present In Every Liturgical Action." Origins. 8 (February 20,, 1984), 10. --. Address to the Faithful Stressing Devotion to Mary Our Mother." Origins. 880 (April 9, 1985), 12. ~. "Address to the Faithful Urging Honor to the Infinite Majesty of God Through Mary." Origins. 891 (June 24, 1985), I. --. "Homily Announcing A Fourteen Month Marian Year To Be-gin Pentecost Sunday." Origins. 16 (January 15, 1987), 563-565. --. Mother of the Redeemer. Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1987. --. "Renewal of the Act of Consecration of the World to the Mother of God." Origins. 14 (April 2, 1984), 9-10. --. Redemptoris Mater. Tablet. 241 (March 28, 1987), 355-359. National Catholic Conference of Bishops. Behold Your Mother: Woman of Faith. (Pastoral Letter on the Blessed Virgin Mary). Wash-ington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, November 21, 1973. Paul VI. "Apostolic Exhortation: Marialis Cultus." L'Osservatore Romano. April 4, 1974. ~. "Mary, Model of the Church." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 34 (March 1976), 161 - 164. ~. "Renewal of Devotion to Mary." The Pope Speaks. 20 (1975), 199-203. --. Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1974. Poletti, U. Cardinal. "Significance, Value and Practice of Devotion to the Rosary." Origins. 42 (October 16, 1975), 9. Transcripts, Lectures and Tapes: Clark, Alan. "The Holy Spirit and Mary." Mary's Place In Chris-tian Dialogue. (Occasional Papers and Lectures of the Ecumenical), 1982, 79-88. DeSatage, John and McHugh, John. "Bible and Tradition in Regard to the Blessed Virgin Mary: Lumen Gentium." Mary's Place In Chris-tian Dialogue. (Occasional Papers and Lectures of the Ecumenical), 1982, 51-60. Dimock, Giles. "Practical Devotion to Mary." Marian Conference A Mary Bibliography / 367 at the University of Steubenville, 1986, (Cassette). Hutchinson, Gloria. Mary, Companion For Our Journey. Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger Press, 1986, (Cassettes). Peffley, Bill. Prayerful Pauses With Jesus and Mary. Mystic: Twenty-Third Publications, 1987, (Audiocassettes). Pittman, Robert S. "The Marian Homilies of Hesychius of Jerusa-lem." Ph.D. Thesis. Catholic University of America, 1974. Powers, Isaias. Quiet Places With Mary: A Guided Imagery Retreat. Mystic: Twenty-Third Publications, 1986, (Audiocassettes). Scanlan, Michael. "Prominence of Mary: The Time of Visitation." Marian Conference at the University of Steubenville, 1986, (Cassette). Ware, Kallistos. "The Mother of God in Orthodox Theology and Devotion." Mary's Place in Christian Dialogue. (Occasional Papers and Lectures of the Ecumenical), 1982, 169- ! 81. An Ignatian Contemplation on the Baptism of Our Lord Michael W. Cooper, S.J. Father Michael Cooper, S.J., teaches in the Theology Department and the Institute of Pastoral Studies at Loyola University of Chicago. His address is 6525 N. Sheri-dan Road; Chicago, Illinois 60626. Baptism has once again become an integral part of the Christian experi-ence. Instead of simply an individual event between God and the bap-tized, the sacrament once more celebrates a person's entrance into the community of believers. Moreover, with the renewal and expansion of the understanding of ministry, it is baptism that now offers the founda-tion for the call to mission and service for every member of the People of God. Even with all these rich theological and liturgical developments, I have still found it difficult to make any vital connection between them and my own baptism. In part, I simply have no sentiments or recollec-tions to explore or deepen. Like many other pre-Conciliar born, I was rushed to the local parish on the Sunday following my birth to save me from a sudden case of limbo. Nor does my mother have any spiritual re-membrances of my baptism to share with me, since on that day she was still in the hospital recuperating from my worldly entrance. Thus until very recently the experiential and spiritual sense of my own baptism re-mained in a limbo of its own. The meaning and power of my own baptism finally came alive, how-ever, as I shared Jesus' experience of his own baptism during several pe-riods of prayer on my recent thirty-day retreat. The thrust of contempo-rary spirituality reminds us to pay close attention to our human experi-ence- whether in prayer, in ministry, or in the rest of life--and to ask 368 Contemplation on Baptism / 369 what the Lord might be saying or how he might be inviting. Often these moments become actual revelations of God's living Word for us-~either individually or collectively. Through these experiences we realize the Gos-pel no longer as. a onetime event in the past but as always happening-- and now most immediately to us. From this perspective of the ongoing Gospel I share the fruits of a very transforming experience of the baptism of our Lord. Though admit-tedly the very personal encounter of one individual, maybe my experi-ence will contribute to our collective efforts to reclaim the experiential and spiritual roots of our baptismal call to community and ministry with God's people. I entitled this article "An Ignatian Contemplation . . ." to highlight a very definite approach to praying the Scriptures. Instead of methodi-cally plodding through the Gospel, I contemplated, that is, I watched at-tentively and receptively the scene of our Lord's baptism, letting it touch my mind and heart. I began by reading through the scripture text (Mt 3:13-17) several times, then I put down my Bible, closed my eyes, and let the event come alive before the inner eye of my imagination. Following Ignatius' instructions in the Spiritual Exercises (no. 114), I then took my place in the scene, so that I would be experiencing the baptism as an engaged participant and not as a disinterested spectator. Paying attention to the persons, their words, and their actions, I contem-plated the event as if it were happening now for the first time. On the banks of the Jordan, Jesus steps out from the crowd and pre-sents himself to his cousin John for baptism. His voice filled with emo-tion, John protests saying, "I should be baptized by you, yet you come to me!" But Jesus responds very straightforwardly. "Let it be for now." Then in a very powerful moment of the contemplation, I hear Jesus go on to explain himself, "I'm no different from the rest of the people gath-ered here. We're all struggling to gain our human freedom and whole-ness. With all the fear and unfreedoms we carry around from growing up plus all the pressures and demands on us today, it's a wonder we're not more wounded than we are." For Jesus, this very heartfelt experience becomes his baptism into a deep identification and solidarity with the rest of the human family united together in the struggle to become more human and free. Jesus' words to John then cannot be taken as some sort of pious self-effacement. Rather, our brother Jesus is experiencing his baptism as a deep, deep bond-edness with the human family gathered at the healing waters of rebirth and wholeness. 370/Review for Religious, May-June 1989 As I continue to contemplate the baptism unfolding before me, I am drawn to even closer physical proximity with Jesus by the magnetism of his human compassion and tenderness. At the same time I begin to feel close again to several friends from whom I have parted company because of certain decisions on their part that hurt me very deeply. Along with this new feeling of closeness comes the realization that despite the pain and darkness that have separated us, there exists a deeper bond of soli-darity in the human struggle that binds us together. We are no different from each other or from the rest of the people on the face of the earth. In one way or another we are each carrying around within us parts of our wounded child and of our stressed adult. The shadow of our fuller human potential and psychic wholeness always seems to lie just beyond our reach. With this realization a lot of the bite to my pain and anger subsides and I hear myself saying very serenely, "In our choices and endeavors, we really do try to give as much as we can at the moment. Sometimes our responses aren't adequate or all that the situation might call for or that we or others might hope for. Because we will always be carrying around our wounded and unfinished selves, we at times end up creating pain and darkness--for others as well as for ourselves--despite our best and freest possible intentions at that moment. I am no different from the rest of mortals. We are all in our own way longing and strug-gling for our human freedom and wholeness as daughters and sons of the living God." These intense feelings of solidarity with my friends that ac-company these reflections free me to let go of a lot more of the pain and misunderstanding in our relationship. And almost immediately these peo-ple actually appear on the banks of the Jordan and, ecstatic and teary-eyed, we embrace one another. By this time Jesus and John are sitting off to the side talking intently to one another. I am savoring the wonderful feelings of reconciliation and the pure joy of this moment when all of a sudden my attention switches. Several close friends for whom I had initially been either .teacher, spiritual director, or mentor become present to me. These new feelings of solidarity in the human struggle now bring a different sort of bondedness with them. Any leftover images of being in some way "the expert" or "the helper" or simply the one who is a couple of steps ahead of the others seem to disappear forever. I am just acutely aware of'how similar our journeys and struggles have been at such a profound level. A marvelous celebration of deep friendship and belonging to each other takes place as they, too, appear on the banks of the Jordan and I jump up to embrace them. Contemplation on Baptism / 371 This first moment of the baptism climaxes as I join hands with my friends who have come to the Jordan. Together with Jesus and John we dance in circles and zigzag chains across the sands. Then we run into the water to splash and frolic like little children and truly we are, because so many of the hurts and wounds of growing up and of adult life are be-ing healed. This wonderful moment comes to a close when with ecstatic reverence we take turns baptizing one another in these life-giving wa-ters of human compassion and solidarity. The second major moment of the baptism begins as Jesus steps out of the water. This time the heavens open and a voice proclaims, "This is My Son, the Beloved, on whom My favor rests." Along with his sense of profound solidarity with the human family, Jesus now experiences most intensely his deep, deep solidarity with God. Because the baptism has become not only Jesus' but mine as well, I feel myself being drawn into that same solidarity with God. I now hear a voice from the heavens addressed to me, "You, too, are My son, the beloved, on whom My favor rests." Initially, I simply rest in this deep sense of belonging to God. Though still feeling very much the earthen vessel, chipped and bro-ken in so many ways, I receive nonetheless a strong assurance in the prayer that I will have whatever I need by way of resources for my per-sonal journey and for my ministry. With God's favor there will be enough of hope, courage, and justice, of human and psychic energy, and of whatever else needed for today with more to come tomorrow. The Lord has spoken . Rather than end a prayer that is really only be-ginning to unfold, I simply thank the Lord from the depths of my spirit for sh.aring the baptism with me both in contemplation and in life. This Ignatian contemplation of the baptism of our Lord invites sev-eral brief comments. First of all, we realize that the foundations for a renewed understanding of Christian baptism do not come so much from our own sacramental initiation as from sharing the experience of baptism with Jesus. Like the Lord, we are baptized into covenantal solidarity with both our brothers and sisters and with our gracious God. From this perspective, baptism loses much of its static notion as sim-ply a once-in-a-lifetime event. Especially for adults being baptized or re-claiming their baptismal call, as we did in this contemplation, the cele-bration of baptism becomes a dynamic initiation into a lifelong process that continues to open up new levels of human and divine solidarity as our Christian existence unfolds day by day. This sacred bondedness with the human family confronts the blatant Review for Religious, May-June 1989 barriers and subtle alienation that separate us from each other. Baptism invites us to embrace the human family--both near and far--as "my peo-ple" and not just God's people. Our experience is meant to mirror that of Jesus: "I am no different from anybody else." The heart of the mat-ter remains this recognition that we are all struggling with varying de-grees of success for our human freedom and wholeness--two of the gate-ways to encountering the divine in ourselves. Here, too, our experience follows the pattern of Jesus in discovering his own divinity. In facing the forces that would shrink, wound, or destroy these most precious gifts of God to us, we plumb the depths of our human resources and discover the wellsprings of the divine energy in us as well. Second, this baptism into human solidarity against the enemies of our humanity celebrates our entrance as adults into the Christian com-munity. We now recognize and claim for our own this community both broken and healed yet always struggling for greater wholeness. Third, this very sacred experience of human solidarity becomes the foundational stance for each Christian's involvement in ministry as part of our baptismal commitment. It is only from a vital sense of bonded-ness to each other that we can enter into the.joys and struggles of one another without pretense or feigned empathy. By the Lord's design we are in this human struggle together. Baptism then celebrates our call to be companions to one another and to all our brothers and sisters in the unfolding of the kingdom of God in our time. Fourth, the divine bondedness solidifies as we hear the voice from heaven address us withthe same love and promise offered to Jesus: "You are My beloved on whom My favor rests." This proclamation then nurtures our heartfelt sense of belonging utterly to God. Moreover, this divine connectedness touches all the dimensions of who we are, so that we begin to look and feel more and more with the eyes and heart of our gracious God on our~e, lves, others, and our world. In the face of our human wounds and inadequacies, this sense of di-vine favor sustains Christian perseverance and empowerment for life and ministry. We can be stretched to the limits of our understanding and of our physical and psychic energies, yet we now know deep down that no matter what comes God's favor will sustain us this day and there will be more of what we need tomorrow. From the Lord we need only ask with Ignatius in the Suscipe of the Spiritual Exercises: "Give me only Your love and Your grace; that is enough for me" (no. 234). For those hungry to deepen their commitment to Christian commu-nity and ministry, an Ignatian contemplation of the baptism may be the Contemplation on Baptism I 373 occasion to nourish those desires as they share this moment with Jesus as though it were happening for the first time. We never know whom or what we might meet on the banks of the Jordan! the woman with the hemorrhage i was tired of their pity and their prayers now for how many years each face became compulsive to be good with kindness--their helpful helplessness i've seen their looks that worried into silence "i'm so sorry" drove me to distraction until they learned my shame would last God only knowswperhaps forever then they disappeared like frightened children and the very thing

Issue 17.4 of the Review for Religious, 1958. ; JULY 15,= 1958, " Unceasing Prayer Venerable Anne de Xainctongb : The General Chapter' ". VOLUME 17 For. Your Information 'J Book Revtews (~uesfions and -~Answe~ Roman Documents about: Religious kit:e ""' ': - :::''~ "> :'~ ': " ~; ¯ Coedu~atlon " °. The Family RI::VIi::W FOR RI:LIGIOUS VOLUME 17 JULY, 1958 NUMnER 4 CONTI::NTS FOR YOUR INFORMAT_ION .193 UNCEASING PRAYER--Edward Hageraann, S.J . 194 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 200 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE-- Sister Marie Celestine, U.T.S.V . 201 PROFICIENTS~WHO DO NOT PROGRESS-- Hugh Kelly, S.J . 211 THE GENERAL CHAPTER--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 223 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 231 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS~R. F. smith, S.J . 232 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS: Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 241~ QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS: 20. Baptism in Another Rite and Subsequent Profession . 250 21. Authority over and Direction of Institutes of Religious Women . " . . . ¯ . 251 22. Duties of the Cardinal Protector . 252 23. Idiomatic Translations of Constitutions . 253 24. Moment of Covering the Ciborium at the Consecration . 253 25. Pausing Before Prayers at the Foot of the Alta'r . 25~4 26. Place of the Sign of the .Cross on the Missal . 254 27. Simple Genuflhction Between Consecration andCommunion,254 28. Interference in External and Internal Government . 255 29. May a Superioress Bless Her Subjects? . 256 REVIE~Y¢" FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1958, Vol. 17, No. 4. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approval~ Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1958, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard. St. Louis 18, Missouri. For Your Int:ormat:ion Editor's Golden Jubilee FATHER HENRY WILLMERING will celebrate~ the Golden Jubilee of his entrance into the Society of Jesus on July 25, 1958. Father Willmering has been teaching Sacred Scripture to Jesuit seminarians for thirty years. He became a member of our editorial board in 1955. "His fellow editors feel sure that the readers of the REVIEW will join them in congratulating Father Willmering and helping him by their prayers to thank God for the great privilege of spend-ing fifty years in the religious life. Delayed Vocations In the May, 1957, number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (p. 154) we published an announcement at the suggestion of a" priest who was spiritual director to some women who were interested in dedicating their lives to God, but who were ham-pered by the fact that they were older than the age limit for admission in most religic~us communities, ,~ere widows, and so forth. This priest thought it would be very helpful to others, as well as to himself, to know of religious or secular institutes th. at would accept such candidates. Two replies were published in our November, 1957, number (p.342); and a third reply was published in our March, 1958, issue (p. 90). We have recently received a fourth reply from the Daughters of the Paraclete, a group of women who have organized and are taking steps to become a secular institute in the diocese of Little Rock. The Daughters of the Paraclete now have two houses in the diocese of Little Rock. They seek further candidates and realize that these must be obtained from outside the state of Arkansas. Any single Catholic ~voman of good character and good physical and mental health is eligible for entrance. There (Continued on page 210) 193 U, nceasing Prayer Edward I-lagemannr S.J. OUR LORD told us, "We ought always to pray" (Lk. 18:1). His words were echoed by St. Paul when he wrote, "Pray without ceasing" (I Thess. 5~17). Dif-ferent ways of explaining this seemingly impossible behest have often been proposed. I here wish to call to mind .an explanation found in. the ascetical writings of certain French Jesuits from the seventeenth century to the present. What they teach is not, however, original nor exclusively their own. Father Julien 'Hayneuve, S.J., a well-.known spiritual writer around the middle of the seventeenth century, tells us in one of his volumes of meditations that there are three ways of conversing with our Lord: (1) by sanctifying grace, i.e., by being in a state of friendship with Christ; (2) by formal prayer in which we manifest our needs to Him;.and (3) by "this unceasing prayer of which Scripture speaks, that is to say, by a spiritual and divine life that consists a) in doing nothing except by His.spirit, by His orders, fbr His glory, b) in acting not according to the inclinations of nature but confokmably with the inspirations of. grace and according to His maxims, in the same way that He Himself lived on earth and as He desires to live in us, in a word, according to the knowledge He gives us by His lights and interior inspirations" (M~ditations sur la vie de N.S. Jdsus Christ, Vol. I, p. 474). This manner of life we call virtual.prayer. It consists in a complete union of our wills with God, whereby we hearken .to His will expressed not only exteriorly through, the duties of our state of life and the various manifestations of divine providence, but also interiorly tl~rough the movements of grace. It is not an act nor a series of acts but a state, a readi-ness to stop or change what we are d~ing if God wishes it. We are or, at least, we wish to be as responsive to God's will 194 ,I UNCEASING PRAYER expressed through His actual g~aces as a harp to the slightest touch of a master. Father L~once de Grandmaison, s.J., sums it up thus: "Formal prayer differs from virtual in that the latter consists in habitually preferring the will of God ~o our own will . In short, virtual prayer consists in .being docile to. the Holy.Spirit." (We and the Holy Spirit, p. 134) Virtual prayer is, therefore, not a question of intellectual attention, of recollection where the mind is conscious of God, but of habitual, permanent intention directing our wills by God's will, in a word, union of wills. Thus we can be busy,. our minds occupied with intellectual or material work, and yet be praying because we want to do only what God wants us to do and we should cease immediately if we knew He wished us to stop. Father Raoul Plus, S.J'., has practically the same thought when he says: "The state of prayer consists in preserv-ing a pure dntention during the fulfillment of our daily tasks. I cannot have my thoughts occupied with God without inter-ruption. But my will should never be directed towards "any object e~xcept God, ~at any rate as its last end." (How to Pray Always, p. 15) Father Jean Croiset, the spiritual director of St. Margaret Mary, insists on this union of wills: "It is necessary' that while the mind. works, the heart be in. repose and' remain, motionless in its center, which is the will of God, t~rom which it should never separate itself" (The Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, p. 87). We might here add in the words of. De Grandmaison why this state of attentiveness to God's will is termed prayer. "It is truly prayer because it unites us to God, makes us docile to His inspirations, and attunes us to His will of good pleasure-" (We and the Holy Spirit, pp. 122-23). According to Father Jean-pierre de Caussade, s.J., who lived in .the first half of the eighteenth century, perfection will consist in this virtual pray~er, "The more we advance the rciore is God pleased to take it 'out of our power, to produce many acts . In all the different changes both interior and exterior 195 ]~DWARD HAGEMANN Review for Religious say always from the depths of your heart, 'My God, I wish what You ,wish, I refuse nothing from Your fatherly hand, I accept all and submit to all.' In this simple act, continued or rather habitual, consists our whole perfection." (Abandon-ment to Divine Providence, Exeter, 1921, pp. 157-58) Jean- Nicholas Grou, the junior of De Caussade by about fifty years, one of the best known Jesuit writers of his time, tells us that the sole object of the interior soul is to glorify God and to love Him. He develops this latter point thus, "To love Him, not by formal acts or by effusions of sensible devotion, but by being effectually and continually devoted to Him, and by entire resignation of her own will to His" (Manual for Interior Souls, p. 93). Grou says that the interior soul is "effectually and continually devoted" to God. This is devotion that St. Thomas defines as "the will to give oneself readily to things concerning the service of God" (II-II, q. 82, a.1)--not just sensible devotion but the deep, substantial devotion of a com-pliant will. In another work Grou devotes a chapter'to virtual prayer. In this chapter, which he entitles "unceasing prayer," he de-scribes this virtual prayer and then gives some examples: "Among the actions that may be regarded as prayer I would include visits of politeness and good manners; I would even include amusing conversations and necessary relaxations of body and mind, provided they be harmless, and carried no further thatx is allowed by Christian pririciples. None of these occupations is incompatible with continual prayer; with the exception of things that are wrong, inexpedient, or useless there is" nothing that the Holy Spirit cannot make His own, nothing that He cannot contrive to sanctify and bring into the realm of prayer." (The School of Jesus Christ, p. 281) As we have said, virtual prayer consists in a readiness to do God's will expressed not only exteriorly but also interiorly through the movements of grace. It is necessary, then, that we be able to discern these movements in our souls. These 196 July, 1958 UNCEASING PRAYER are normally slight illuminations of the intellect and gentle promptings of the will. But are all interior movements prompt-ing to seeming good the work of God? Unfortunately, no. The evil spirit and our fallen nature suggest thoughts that seemingly prompt to good but, as we know from sad experi. ence, result in something bad or less good. We must be experienced, then, in distinguishing between the spirits, between the movements of grace and of nature, so as to accept the former and reject the latter. (See The Imitation of Christ, Bk. III, Chap. 54, "On the Diverse Motions of Nature and Grace.") Father Jean-Joseph Surin, one of the most brilliant Jesuit writers of the first half of the seventeenth century, states that this attention to the movements of grace and nature consti-tutes the interior life (Spiritual Letters, p. 391). In~ this he was but giving the teaching of his famous tertian instructor, Father Louis Lallemant (Spiritual TeachingI 5th Princ., Chap. l,a. 1, sec. 3). : The rule of thumb for distinguishing :~between the move. ments of the spirits, or of nature and grace, is the difference in the immediate effect they have on the soul. In a soul going from good to better the good spirit or grace produces a peace-ful impression like a drop of water falling on a sponge. The bad spirit or nature, on the other hand, produces a slight agita-tion, a slight disturbance like a drop of water falling on a stone. All seemingly good thoughts and desires, then, that cause such an agitation will be rejected as soon as discerned without being examined. As a result, peace of soul will be the climate ir~ which that person lives who is in a state of attentiveness to God's will, who, in a word, practices continual prayer. I say advisedly peace of soul, not peace of mind. Our imagination or emotions may be disturbed violently or we may have trying problems over which to ponder; but all of these are, so to speak, on the surface of the soul. Deep down under all this is peace. De Caussade in his letters of direction is never weary of. insisting on the necessity of peace. For ~example, he writes, 197 EDWARD HAGEMANN Review for Religious '-'The great principle of the interior life is the peace of the s0ul, and it must be preser~,ed with such care that the moment it is attacked all else must be put aside and every effort made to try and regain this holy peace, just as, in an outbreak of fire everything else is neglected to hasten to extinguish the flames'" (Abandonment to Divine Providence, p. 142). In the midst of work and occupations that can take up our complete" attention, we are praying, yes even with the prayer o'f ~petition,' We all have some great personal desires that mean much to us. We' don't have to express them in wbrds. God ~ees them in our' heart. "De Caussade is never tired of repeating St. Augustine's saying that our desires are our prayers (Migne, P:C., 36: 404): our desire to love God, our desire to grow in a certain virtue, our desire for the wel-fare, spiritual or corporal, of someone dearto us, and so forth. A mother ~hosd baby is ill may be busy with chores around the house or have her attention taken up with some pressing problem, but surely we can say that all the time underlying all this activity is her desire for the recov~ery of h~r child. Besides a few big, permanent desires, we all have also many small, transient ones. We can put all these desires, big and small, into the Morning Offering of-the Apostleship of Prayer and then not think of them again during the da.y. They are not dropped Out .of our hearts. Even though we do not forma[ly. repeat these ',petitions, God sees them in our hearts. . Our desires are our,p.rayers. This virtual prayer can be of great comfort to us when we are assailed by temptations. These temptations seize on our imagination and emotion~, and thus influence us physically. While we are thus very conscious of the temptation, we do not, on the other hand, feel the. act of the will or, bdtter still, the state of our will Which is kept turned toward' God. Yet it is in the will not the imagination and' emotions that. our real self is found. De Caussade refers to this again and again, often telling us to go beneath all this agitation in our sense life and 198 July, 1958 UNCEASING PRAYER emotional life and deep down 'rest with our will united with God's or again,, in a somewhat opposite illustration, .to remain above all this agitation like a high mountain whose peak 'is bathed in sunshine but around whose base the" storm clouds lash furiously (Abandonment to Divine Providence, I3. 119). As. this state of will conformed to God's will is our continual prayer, we "are praying, then, even in the midst of the most turbulent temptations. This constant prayer c~in be a source" of consolation when arresting distractions occur during 6urordinary period of for-mal prayer. Who of ~us' has not experienced and does not continue to experience eveky day the wanderings Of the mind that seem at times to make up such a~large pa~t of the time allotted to mental prayer? ~This shbuld not trouble us as long as our will is habituidly directed toward God. As Father de Graridmaison says: "In virtual pray~.r we' call into action the faculty Over which we have the greate.st controli our free Will. Virtual prayer does not "require favorable mental, emotional, or even bodily dispositions . We cannot always think imagine and feel as we would like. But we can always will that God be glorified and that we be obedient to H~m. (We and the Holy Spirit, p. 123) Of course, when these distrac-tions occur, the sooner we recover ourselves and get back to ~formal meditation the better for our mental pr~yer and fgr the growth in motivation that mental prayer gives. But it is consoling to know that in the midst of our distractions our heart has been praying. I am not recommending this practice of virthal player to all indiscriminately. "The Spirit breatheth where he Gill" (Jn. 3:8). 'Some will prefer to make frequent .aipirati~ns during the day or to lift the mind occasionally to God. Well and good. They should follow this attraction. But others will be found who cannot raise the mind to God, particularly when occupied with mental work. Let them, then," not f~el they cannot be praying. The words we havre written will show them 199 EDWARD HAGI~MANN that, as long as their will is united to God's, ready to obey the slightest indication of His holy will, they are in a state of prayer. In one of his letters Father de Caussade gives the following advice: "During the day try to keep yourself united to God, either by frequent aspirations towards Him, or by the simple glance of pure faith; or better still, by a certain calm in the depths of your soul and of your whole being in God, accompanied by a complete detachment from all the exterior objects of this world. God Himself will.show you which of these three ways will best suit you to unite yourself to Him, by the attraction to it, the taste for it, and the facility in the prac-tice of it which He will give you, for this union is in propor-tion to the degree of prayer to which the soul is raised. Each of these states has its special attraction; one must learn to know one's own, and then follow it with simplicity and fidelity, but without anxiety, uneasiness~ or haste; always sweetly and peace-fully as St. Francis of Sales says." (Abandonm.ent to Divine Providence, p. 142). This third method ot: De Caussade is the virtual prayer we h~ave described in this article. OUR CONTRIBUTORS EDWARD HAGEMANN is spiritual director at Alma College, a theologate for Jesuit scholastics, at Los Gatos, California. SISTER MARIE CELESTINE teaches Latin at Notre Dam~ School, 168 West 79th Street, New York 24, New York. HUGH KELLY is instructor of tertians at Rathfarnham-Castle, Rathfarnham~ Dublin, Ireland. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at kVoodstock Col-lege, W~odstock, Maryland. R.F. SMITH is a member ofthe faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 200 Venerable Anne de Xainc!:onge Sisl:er Marie Celest:ine, U.T.S.V. The story of the founding of the first non-cloistered teaching congregation of sisters. T O EXTEND THE REIGN of Jesus Christ--that is my only ambition--my sublime enterprise." These words of Venerable Anne de Xainctonge echoed the yearn.'ing of her heart for a quest that led her through~ twenty years of suffering and trial and ended in the establishm.ent of th~ first non-cloistered congregation for the education of girls, the Society of St. Ursula of the Blessed Virgifi, on June .16, 1606. The successful completion of that quest was celebrated in 1956, the 350th anniversary year. When the American religious of the Society assisted on June 16 at a solemn pontifical Mass offered by His Excellency, Most Reverend Joseph F. Flannelly, aux. iliary bishbp of New York, in St. Patrick's Cathedral, their joy and gratitude reflected two Of the striking marks of their foundress's life--her joy and gratitude for her vocation. That vocation is best understood by its twofold achievement, the founding of a congregation without enclosure and her con-tribution to education. Her project brought change to religious life as well as to the world of pedagogy. Today it is as natural to see nuns walking along the streets of our large cities or traveling cross-country to spend their holidays in educational conventions as it is to find them taking part in scientific discoveries or teaching Christ in pagan lands. However, such scenes were unknown in the sixteenth century when nun-educators remained in their convents to impart to a small group of fortunate girls the essentials of Christian learning. The revolutionary character of this new idea--a non. cloistered order for women--can be appreciated by recalling the conditions existing in the days of Anne de Xainctonge. 201 SISTER MARIE CELESTINE Review for, Religious Dynamic changes in the field of ideas were keeping Europe in turmoil and coni~usion. The Protestant Revolt had led to the destruction bt~ schools" and colleges. Religious wars, par-ticularly in France, kept Huguenot and Catholic at bitter odds. Science, through Galileo and Kepler, was interesting men in new discoveries. It was a period teeming with new nationalisms, new adventures, and new literary trends. Henry IV, Sir Walter Raleigh, ai~d Montaigne dr~w admiring i~ollowers to their new endeavors. But if the peridd reflected feverish restlessness, it also prodhced: great figures of true serenity, a serenity acquired by th.e grace oi~ God and adherence to truth. In literature, Shakespe,are and Cervantes; in art, Holbein and Tintoretto; in theology, Bella'rmine and Canisitls--these Were but a fe~ who proved the worth ot~ the old "dducational values. Throughout the century the" Church struggled for reform. Her effort~, especially through the Council of Trent, bore fruit." Saints like Teresa of Avila,. Ignatius, and Francis de 'Sales fought for Christ with new ,weapons on new battlefields. It"was the field of education that challenged Anne de Xainctonge. to plan, suffer for, and reach her quest. The disastrous effects of the Reformation on educatiori had caused the Council of Trent to regtore the ancient discipline for ~thd trainii~g of the clergy, to legislate for the instruction of the faithful by preaching and the printed word, to ar'range for Sunday schools and the reopening of parish schools. France, not suffering the same persecutibn as England and Germany, wa.~ active in applying the i:egulations. ~' ~ If these recommendations, were followed, a new vitality would appear in the faithi~ul. In what way could Anne help? How could she extend the reign of Christ? ¯ Her desire.tosave souls became an overwhelming ambition. Developed.by prayer and nurtured by sacrifice, it was a decisive influence in her life --molding the quality of her spiritual growth and pointing .to its outward expression. 202 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE Actually, it was the. work of St; Ignatius, the most bril-liant of the educational leadersl .which most attracted the young girl. It was the. Jesuit .ideal in training youth which gave Anne the inspiration for her new Society. It was her Jesuit dir.ectors, Father de, Villars and Father Gentil, who prepared and tested her soul for' the difficulties ahead. When at last in. 1606 she formed her congregation,¯ it was the Ratio StuJiorum which she made the basis of her educational system, adapting and modifying it to the needs of gi~:ls, while following its broad lines of method and administration. The work of the Jesuits appealed strongly to Anne be-cause she watched their efforts at close range. 'Anne de Xainc-tonge was born in Dijon, France, November 21,'1567, daughter of Jean de Xainctonge, councilor of Parliament, and Lady Marguerite Colard. The child showed such a keen intellect that her father arranged an educational program for her, in-cluding subjects usually studied by boys. He himself became one of her tutors, choosing religion for his course, just as' his neighbor, ' President ~Fremyot, did for his children, among them the future St. Jane Frances de Chantal. While still young, Anne sl~owed herself a born teacher; for, after her lessons with her father, she would go to the servants and teacl~ them what she had just learned. She was 13eg~nmng to extend Christ's reign. A strong desire to do God's will ~aught her enthusias'm, so that even in an illness declared hopeless, but from which she recovered miraculodsly, she preferred God's will to her cure. 'A hunger for. Holy Com-munion and confirmation made her lea; nothing undone until she had succeeded in receiving both sacraments earlier than usual. This love for God and apostolic yearning made the young girl's decisions firm. When presented to society, ~he followed her mother's desires by dressing richly and taking an active part in the social life of the nobility of Dijon. However, she 2O3 SISTER ~ARIE CELESTINE Review for Religious refused to 'consider a proposal of marriage. Just what her vocation was Anne did not know. Neither marriage nor the cloistered life drew her, but a deep yearning to serve God and save souls possessed her. In the meantime, her confessor al-lowed her to teach catechism. However, he demanded that she put aside her fashionable dress while teaching in the churches or instructing the sick in hospitals. Anne felt that the work of the Jesuits was really extending the reign of Christ in the hearts of boys. Their new college, opened in Dijon in 1582, was adjoining her father's estate. Watching from her window or the garden, ,she was impressed by the new methods, ~he good order of the thousand pupils, and the gay recreations supervised by the masters on the playground behind the school. The more she appreciated their progress, the more she contrasted it with the feeble efforts made in the two or three schools for girls in Dijon, where reading, writing, and needlework formed the entire curriculum. If only a work similar to that 0f the Jesuits could be undertaken for girls! Then the light came. It could be undertaken--and she could begin it! At last, God's will seemed clear. She told her director, Father Gentil, that poor girls had been neglected, since "among us, no one has the courage to use her natural talents to glorify God as you are glorifying Him by yours." ~ Anne realized that for the work she envisioned her religious could not be cloistered. They would need to go out, to churches, schools, hospitals--to reach the rich and the poor --as many children as possible. But--an uncloistered order of women? The quest seemed fantastic. The mere thought of such a congregation would shock sixteenth-century France. Again, teaching was a task despised by people of high society; it was a work relegated to widows or ladies in financial distress, who usually knew little more than their pupils. The girls of poor families attended school until they were nine, while the wealthy had to educate their daughters at home or, if fortunate, send them to a cloistered convent as boarders. 204 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE To. Anne, the thought of teaching was not revolting. It was an apostolate! It was not only a challenge, but an inspira-tion, a means of extending the kingdom. But to form a society, she would need companions. Would any of her friends stoop to the humiliating task of instructing children? Anne began to prepare herself for her vocation by serious study, especially of religion. Soon her parents withdrew their promises of help for the work when they learned that God's will was leading Anne to establish it, not in Dijon, but in Dole, then enemy territory under Spanish rule. Her arrival in Dole, November 29, 1596, was welcomed as an answer to prayer by a group of. young ladies with a similar ambition. However, Dole was to exact ten years of suffering and humiliation before Anne could reach her goal. The history of those years shows h~r in the role of public benefactor--a lone figure digging the groundwork of her society. Most of those who had prayed for a leader lost courage in the face of hardships caused by social custom and family prejudice. For Anne herself, difficulties reached the height of persecu-tion as her father inaugurated violent methods of attack to force his daughter's return. Obliged to submit the plan of her congregation to two different courts of prominent and prejudiced theologians, she convinced them that her project for a non-cloistered community was sound, practical, and of divine inspiration. The battle over non-enclosure was won! Ecclesiastical and municipal authorization paved the way for the new foundation; and on June 16, 1606, there came to life. a non-cloistered congregation for the education of girls, the Society of St. Ursula. The work grew rapidly in France, Germany, and Switzerland. A few years after Mother Anne's foundation, St. Francis de Sales had to face the same problem of non-enclosure. When, with St. Jane Frances de Chantali he began the Visitation order in. 1610, it was as a non-cloistered community dedicated to the 2O5 SISTER ~IARIE CELESTINE Review :for Religious sick and poor. However, in 1615 Cardinal de Marquemont of Lyons, who had invited the Visitandines to establish a house in his diocese, urged St. Francis dd Sales to change the status of his congregation to one of strict enclosure. The cardinal feared that the fervor of the. religious would be weakened and that dangers would be encountered by their contact with the world. After resisting at first, the bishop of Geneva in humility finally yielded to the .cardinal's request, seeing in it a sign of God's will in his superiors and a means of spreading the work in this modified form to m, any parts of France. The saint admired Mother Anne's work and in 1608 had gone to Dole to see the schools of the Ursules. In 1621 he wrote to Mother Anne, asking her to establish a house in Thonon, Savoy. In requesting it he wrote: I have always admired, honored, and esteemed the works oi: very great charity which your Society practices, whose growth I have always very affectionately desired, especially in this province of Savoy. Relying on the hope 'which the Fathers of the.Society of Jesus have given me for establishing a house here, I have obtained permission for it from her 'Most Serene Highness. But if I have the pleasure of seeing a branch of the holy tree of Sainte Ursule in this diocese, I shall~ try to make known, by all sorts of proofs, the affection I have for it. That is why I beg you very humbly, my very dear Sister, to contribute to this project all you can, in God, not doubting that it is for the greatest glo~-y of God, the advancement and strengthening of many souls in piety, and finally, a very great consolation for those who come first to take part in this good work . Thus, humbly acceding to the wishes of others, St. Francis de Sales gave up his plan of non-enclosure. Mother Anne in an indomitable spirit of perse.verance worked and suffered for twenty years until she overcame all obstacles to non-enclosure. Her work. stood the test of time. The French Revolution could not annihilate it, nor the" laws of 1901 expelling religious from France. This expulsion brought forth new branches in Italy, .Belgium, and the United States. .The American work began in 1901, ~when Right ~Reverend Monsignor.Joseph H. McMahon invited the sisters to teach in Our Lady of Lourdes Parochial School in New York. Then an .academy was opened 206 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE " in 1912, now the Notre Dame School on West 79th Street; the Academy of St. Ursula, Kingston, New York, was begun in 1925. Two parochial schools, St. Joseph's, Kingston, and St. Augustine's, Providence, are conducted by the religious, who also have charge of the Latin Department in Cathedral High School, New York City. Mother Anne's second achievement was her contribution to education. Basing her system on the'Ratio Studiorum ¯ of-the Jesuits, she insisted on the. training of her teachers, a gentle fiimness in discipline, and an arrangement of classes suited to th~ age and ability of, th~ pupils. Her philosophy of education followed logically from her grasp of the-child's nature, a being composed of body and soul, ~stined for the City of God. The goal must be kept in mind, but the nature of the child must not be forgotten. To make the Incarnation real in the lives of the children was her aim. For her, the very end of education was to imitate Jesus Christ, to form Him in the young. "In working with these little souls, we shall do something very great if we keep our interior glance fixed on Jesus Christ." If her am-bition was to form Christ in the students, it was first-to-train, each of her daughters to be another Christ--that the re.ality of the Incarnation, the living of the Christ-life might radiate to o~thers. Her spiritual counsels speak again and again of the "reign of Christ." "I desire with all my heart, to make Jesus Christ reign and live within me." This aim was reflected in her methodsi which showed 'a humanistic approach. Women were losing their souls for lack of instruction; therefore, moral training was of prime im-p? rtance, while the core-curriculum subject wasreligion. One of the points Mother. Anne stressed .was the exacting of work~ according to the child's ,capacity. Individua! recitations, pupil activity, and self-expression to develop the reason were insisted upon.in all but the lowest classes. This practice, proper .to the new institute in 1606, was considered "one of the great pe~da, 207 SISTER MARIE CELESTINE Review for Religious gogical discoveries of the nineteenth century." Plays and pageants were presented to develop oral expression. In the teacher training program, similar attention is giver~ to the individual. The teacher must try to win each soul: by her gay and open manner, to inspire confidence; by a gentle firmness, to correct and exhort; by a personal spirit of sacrifice and abnegation, to serve others. To serve the whole world and particularly those of our sex, to instruct, console, warn, to give good example everywhere, and to pray always for the conversion or perfection of souls--that is the profession of the Ursules, but on condition that it is carried on without affecta-tion, complacency, or vanity . . . simply, humbly, cordially . Such exterior works sprang from a deep Christ-centered spirituality. Every fiber of Anne's being spent itself to extend Christ's reign. Again and again she exhorts her daughters "to spend themselves for the glory of God and to make Jesus Christ reign." Christ living in the Blessed Sacrament was the center of her life. If her desire as a child was to receive the Blessed Sacrament before the usual age; if, as a religious, she planned her pupils' day to end with a short visit to the Blessed Sacrament; and if her guardian angel walked behind her on Communion days instead of preceding her, it was because her devotion to our Lord in the tabernacle was a solid and practical one. It was so deeply practical that, although in dire need in Dole, she had refused our Lord's offer to live on the Blessed Sacrament alone, lest she cease to be a model of imitation for her daughters. Her motto, "Mihi vivere Christus est--et mori lucrum," was a practical rule of action by which she could' give in gratitude for Holy Communion "heart for heart, life for life, soul for soul." Tkus, by building the child's character on conscidnce and love of God, she hoped, to build it high above the petty disputes and local antagonisms. Human interests must transcend the national. In 1956 the Society opened its first foreign mission in Luena, the Belgian Congo, and boasts three nationalitids, including American, among the four pioneers. Mother Anne 208 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAI~CTON(~E had braved the derision of a class:conscious society to devote herself to the poor and ignorant. Her principle of adaptation to new needs has given her Society a framework within which to develop varied educational works. During Cana Conferences, when parents come to the convent for a day of spiritual refreshment, Mother'Anne's daughters care for their children just as she herself 350 years ago cared for the babies in the vestibule of the church to allow their mothers to assist at Mass in .peace. As she urged her daughters to discuss the problems of the children's education with the parents, so the Society's P.T.A.'s hope to serve the same worthy purpose of informing them of their childen's progress in knowledge and virtue. Besides academies and free schools, orphanages are conducted. In Italy a special program is set up to help servant girls, called "Zites," a work dedicated to St. Zita, patroness of .domestic servants. It is a beautiful continuation of Mother Anne's attention to the servants, first as a child in her own home, and later, on a much larger scale. In the United Stat.es, in addition to academies and sch6ols, catechetical work is also done. In Phoenicia, New York, a religious vacation school is open in the summer to the children of the neighboring ~illages. To this restful spot in the Cat-skills comes a group of children from Casita Maria in New York each .year for a few w~eks of vacation. Thus a sixteenth century educator may be called modern because her principles have a universal appeal' and allow for adaptation. To see the child with his charm and weakness looking up to God--to see God in His infinite fatherly love bending down to the child--is .to see a picture of the educa-tional process in Mother Anne's mind. To help the child reach up with hands and head and heart--to plead .with the Father" to bend lower to lift up the child--that is a picture of the teacher's role in Mother Anne's plan. To carry out ~his plan, 'this quest of saving souls, the Venerable Anne de Xainctorlge established a non-cloistered 209 SISTER MARIE CELESTINE teaching order for the education of girls, the Society of St. Ursula of the Blessed Virgin. She made that Society able and re.ady to meet new needs and new conditions. Charted by .unchanging principles, it can face the challenge of e~ch century on. the path of its unending quest. Last year, its 350th anni-versary, each haember of the Society, whether in Europe, the United States, or Africa, dedicated herself anew to that quest in the words of her venerable foundress, "To extend the reign of Jesus Christ--that is my only ambition--my sublime enterprise." For Your la[ormation (Continued from page 193) is no age limit beyond that of common sense. There are no special financial or educational qualifications. In the apostolate of the Daughters of the Paraclete, there is a place and. a work for all--nurses, teachers, o~ce workers, domestic workers, and so forth. Requests for further information may 'be sent either to: Most Reverend Albert L. Fletcher, D.D., 305 West Second Street, Little Rock, Arkansas; or to: Miss L. A. Manes, Para-. clete House, 802 Center Street, Little Rock, Arkansas. The Catholic Counselor Our attention has recently been called to The °Catholic Counselor, a magazine that has just finished its second year of publication. The purpose of this periodical, ~is describdd on its masthead, is: "To act as an organ of communication for Catholics in the field of guidance. Spdcifically, the staff plans through The Catholic Counselor (1) to develop knowledge and interest in Student' Pdrsonnel Worl~ in Catholic Institutions; (2) to serve as a forum of expression on the mutual problems of Catholics in counseling; (3) to foster the. professional growth of Catholic guidance workers by membership in the A.P.G.A. (Continued on page 222) 210 Prot:icien!:sm Who Do No!: Progress I-lUgh Kelly, S.J. FATHER, I have not been making any advance in my spiritual life for some time past. In fact,' I seem to be going back. I seem to have lost much of that fervor I had in my early days in religious life. I have no longer the sense of God's presence I had formerly, nor the desire to sub; due self and to make progress in prayer and in the interior life. I have made efforts to get back again to my former state of fervor but with pool results. I am much discouraged and do not know what to do." There are few priests with any experience as retreat masters or confessors of religiofis who have not heard such a complaint often. These are complaints which a priest must take seriously as they come from a real anxiety and are a strong appeal for help. What is the truth of that diagnosis? Has progress really stopped? Has there been deterioration? Has the desire of' advance grown slack? It may well be that these questions can be answered in the affirmative and that there l~as been delib-erate infidelity and a slacking in the duties and practices which are the condition of fervor. In that case the problem is easily solved; the religious ha~ but to resume his forme~: fide.lity. At least this is the necessary preliminary step. Whether it is the only step and can remedy the situation will depend on other questions. But let us suppose there has not been conscious, deliberate neglect; and the religious can be fairly certain of this. ~ What, then, is the cause of the state in which he finds himself and which he diagnosed so accurately? There has been a great change. The soul is at a loss, is much discouraged, a~d is sorely in need of help. How is a priest to deal with such a case? 211 HUGH KELLY Review for Relig.ious As a help to a solution let us put the case in professional language!. We can say that the religious in question has passed through the stage of beginners and is well within the ranks of the proficients. The division of souls, seriously living the spiritual life, into beginners, proficients, and perfect is strongly traditional and is natural and easy to" understand. It is based on the different measure of charity which the soul possesses. The first class 'consists of those who possess charity and whose chief concern is to secure it firmly against that which would destroy it, mortal sin. In the next class, the proficients, are those who have consolidated charity in their souls and whose concern is to develop it and integrate it by the addition of the other virtues which it needs for its full growth and flowering. The perfecf are those in whom charity has got its appropriate extension and depth and whose concern is to live a life in which all xhe activity is dominated and controlled by charity. There is scarcely any need to note that within each of these main divisions there ale many minor steps or stages. The division has this advantage that it denotes the two main ideas--that perfection is a movement, a progress with definite stages, and that it is measured by charity. To return now m the definite case we are considering-- we can say that the. religious in question has passed from the stage of beginners to that of proficients. We may say that the early years of religious life are the stage of beginners, that period when the young religious learned to live well the new way of life on which he had entered. The period would be considered to last up to the final profession or to some years: beyond it. At this stage the religious has abundant help and guidance. from his spiritual superiors. Assuming that he was reasonably faithful and generous and thus corresponded substantially with the training, we can say that at the end of this period we have one who assuredly is not yet perfect, but who is emphatically a good religious; one who is observant and edifying, diligent and obedient; one who has learned the place of prayer in life; 212 I July, 1958 PROFICIENTS~WHo DO NoT'PROGRESS who has reached a considerable degree of union with God; one who has peace of soul and delicacy of conscience; in a word, one who is happy and successful in his vocation. Clearly, a definite stage has been passed through with credit. A Spiritual Crisis But now there comes a change; there comes a halt to the advance; or at least the sense of progress is no longer felt. The motive power which carried the soul forward to this stage of the spiritual life seems suddenly to fail, and the whole growth and activity of the soul seem to come to a standstill. What is to be done to counteract the paralysis and to set things moving again? "Only too many religious lose courage, remain passive, unable to extricate themselves from the morass in which they are held. Perhaps they ask for advice and help and get none. There was never a moment in their religious life when they needed help so sorely; if the help does not come, the whole of their future life will be much the poorer. Only too many religious find themselves in this condition. Hence, we have only too ,often the disturbing phenomenon of a spiritual life which began well, which showed progress for the early years and then petere~t out into mediocrity and dis-illusionment. The early hopes have not been fulfilled; the dreams and right spiritual ambitions have faded away in early middle age. A career that promised much for God has been some way blighted. The religious we have envisaged at the opening of this paper has reached such a crisis in the spiritual life. He needs guidance and encouragement. A'director or retreat master who takes his work. seriously cannot shirk what is his duty; he cannot refuse to stretch out a helping hand, to ~ndicate ¯ some means, to give some helpful direction. What, then, is a director to do in the face of this situation --that of the religious who has quickly and successfully trav-ersed the first stage and then stops and comes to a standstill; whose initiative and motive power seem to fail, to be stricken 213 Review for Religious with a mysterious paralysis? The first thing the director must grasp and which he must make clear to the religious is that the soul has now entered into a new stage in which the main con-ditions are quite different from those of the previous stage. The conditions which determine the life of the proficient are very different from those that the beginner had to deal with. What will ohelp t.he one may harm the other. "When I was a ~hild I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought .as a child" (2 ~or. 13:11). Proficients are no longer children; but they do not realize that they have changed, and they con-tinue to speak and think as children; they have not yet put away the things of.a child. The first, perhaps, of the new conditions to be reckoned with is that there has been a weakening of the desire of' per-fection-- which is the motive power of spiritual advance-- Owing to the "fact that it has been enfeebled by certain faults or maladies which belong particularly to this stage. The faults are "interior, 'often. scarcely perceptible and henci~ not com-batted; but they exercise a powerful adverse influence on the condition of the soul.--These faults and adverse tendencies may bd reduced to four. 1. The. soul is secretly pleased with the progress it has made and unwittingly is inclined to relax in its desires and to rest on its oars. And it is a fact that much Progress has been made which the soul cannot help seeing. A worldly life has changed its directioni many external faults have been elim-inated or Controlled; many ,~irtues and good practices have been acquired; the soul has reached a considerable degree of familiarity with God and enjoys the peace and satisfaction which comes from being rightly orientated toward its true end~ and supreme good. These feelings and considerations which are well founded may come to leave a certain feeling of satis-faction or even of complacency, a half:accepted idea that the progress, which is undeniable, is due in a good measure to 214 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS--WHo DO NOT PROGRESS one's own efforts. In that way vanity may be nourished subtly, and any such feeling is a hindrance, to a'.true advance in "charity. 2." Moreover, that complacency may be further fed by the idea that the chief obstacles to a fervent rel!gious life have been alreddy overcome. It is a fact that no s~rious faults' are now visible, that no new conquests are to be called for. The religious has been well trained, no doubt at the cost bf many sacrifices, to fit smoothly into his r~ligious life and is clearly an edifying, observant, diligent member "of his community. What more can-be reasonably expected? He does not 'see 'in what direction he is to direct his effort~. But therd :precisely is one of the new condition~ he has not taken account of--that the faults are hidden, that khe ol3jectives are not ~)isible, that ~he soul simply doe~ not see its way. . 3. It is 'normal, too, that'sby thi~ time'wo~k and activity play a large, part in the life of ~he're}igious ~ve are considering; b)~ now h~ will' h~a~,e ~ound the a~prop~:iate exe~:cise of .his gift~, B~) that ~ery fact he is e.xpose~d to a fault, which the old spiritual writers called effusio ac/ exteriora~an e~cessive pr.e-occupation with external things. This religious has come to see how he can serve God effectively; he do~s his work well, "is deeply .interested in it. That activity, as an essenti~il part of his vocation, was 'meant inGod's design to b~ a potent ~ans of sanctification, to be a school of certain virtues which could not be learned easily 'in :another school. If the work is not carried, on in this spirit, it will affect "the 'spiritual condi: tion of the.soul. Joy in successl in ~ongenial adtivity, in the praise and recognition which" follow a job.w~ll done, " these tend to'produce a feeling of ~exaggerated self-satisfaction~, a certairf conceit, a sense of one's own value,, a self-assurance, an exigency in one's demands and in time will produce an atmosphere of soul in which purity of heart, detachment, meekness, which arethe interior equipment of the apostle, will not flourish. Here, then, is another of these new conditions which must" be taken account of if there is to be true spiritual'progress. 215 HUGH KELLY Review for Religious ~4. 'If the faults mentioned are really at work and having their effect, then we must conclude that the prayer is not what it should be for the simple reason that if the prayer were right it would prevail over the adverse in.fluences. A true prayer would give light to keep the goal in view steadily; it would unmask hidden faults; it would give strength to overcome them and to make the effort necessary to advance. Hence, we may say confidently that the most important of the new conditions which have not been recognized is that the prayer has not kept pace with the other advances, that it is not the prayer appropriate to the present spiritual state. The religious may have clung to the type of prayer he was taught at the beginning of his religious career and which he may well have outgrown. A prayer that is predominantly active, meditative, that deals largely in reasoning, comparisons, formal definite resolutions, is assuredly a most useful prayer for beginners but not necessarily for proficients. It may well be that the prayer has b~come formal, superficial, that it is not sufficiently interior and does not give that light and unction that the sohl needs in its :present state. Other reasons, operative in individual cases, .could be ,mentioned; but those given are generally found and are suffi-cient .to account for the phenomenon we are considering-- that is, a religious who began in the best dispositions, who went through the first stage with generosity and courage, who had reached a cr.editable stage of union with God, and who then seemed to slow up and make little further progress. And then--perhaps in the course of a retreat such a religious comes to realize his state---he will experience a deep feeling of dis-couragement, a feeling of. paralysis of one who knows that there is something seriously amiss but who cannot say what it is exactly and hence cannot do much about it. If he does not get the guidance and help he needs now, he is likely to lower his spiritual aims and settle into an abiding mood of frustration and disillusionment. 216 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS --- WH0 Do NOT PROGRESS The Remedy So far we have attempted a diagnosis of a malady and a mood common to souls." who have reached the degree of proficients. They are the proficients who have ceased to pro. gress. We may now attempt something in the way of remedy or prescription. The first step of the director should be to point out to the religious that he must realize that he is in a new stage, that the whole nature of the struggle has changed, that he had been clinging to .the things of a child now that he has ceased to be a child. The methods of the previous stage have done their work, all that they were meant to do; but they will not serve in the new stage. Now there is question of new obstacles, new means, new kinds of virtues to be cultivated. The frustra-tion experienced is due to the fact that the conditions of one stage have been retained "for a stage for which they are not suitable. ~ Speaking generally, the spiritual life must now become more interior. The struggle has now been transferred to a deeper region within the soul. The whole spiritual lit:e must grow in intdriority. And first of all the soul must come to a deeper knowledge of the implications of the call of Christ, to a truer realization of the.depth of renunciation contained in His invi-tations. "If any man will come after me, let him deny him-self" (Matt. 16:24). Had the soul come to know the full force of the word deny, that it is the word that is used by the gospel to indicate the action of St. Peter in the Passion--that it implies an entire repudiation and rejection! When Our Lord spoke the words, "Unless the grain of wheat falling into " the earth die, itself remaineth alone" (Jn. 12:24), He spoke of His own Passion and indicated the measure of His sacrifice; but He also gave some idea of what He expected from those whom He called to follow Him. No doubt something of that renouncement was already understood by th~ religious, but how imperfectly. I2Iis words contain depths of renunciation 217 -HUGH KELLY Review for Religious which are revealed only slowly and as a result of much purifi-cation of soul. The. invitation., "Come follow Me," contains many~ degrees of imitation and proximity. Purity.-- Dod.lity The chief means by which the soul is to reach to this interi.ority are, according to L. Lallement, greater purity of heart and greater docility to the .Holy Spirit. Greater purity of heart presupposes a-greater knowledge owfa sth ceh ifeafulyl tcsg oncf etrhnee dh'e waritt.h I nac tthioen psr, eovri oaut sle, asstta gwei tthh e't h,roeu~glihgtiso ours feelings that might be .considered as .venial sins, and the examina-tion of conscience was instituted with a view to confess them as such. But now the examination must probe more deeply. There is a whole stratum of tendencies, instinctive movements, automatic reactions, which indicate the p.resence of that self which is the center of resistance to God's advances. Self-examination must now penetrate to this hitherto unknown region~in which'will be fo~und ~i self that is wayward, dissipated, full of the ¯seeds of sin and ~evolt and which¯ must be controlled before there can be any true domination of charity. Such a purification must be systematic and must cover the heart, the imagination, and the judgment. The heart obviously needs such a fine purification seeing that it is the source of countless movements and affections which cannot be left uncontrolled, because they ¯exercise a strong in-fluence on the.decisions of .the will. These movements are the obscure stirrings of inordinate self-love in some of its manifold manifestations--little indulgences, almost-instinctive preferences,, resentment.s, impatiences, little acts of selfishness of one kind or another. "Fie on't; tis an unweeded garden." It cannot be ¯left to the weeds; it must be cleared and cleansed if it is to be brought under the sweet rule of charity. The imagination no less than the heart needs its own systematic purification. This is the faculty which St. Thomas called 218 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS---WHo DO NOT PROGRESS domlna falsitatis, the mistress of the false.;, and it can very seriously trouble the soul by its vain and foolish images and fancies. Such a source of dissipation and distraction is a chal-lenge to the spirit of prayer or to peace of mind. The purification of the judgment is still more necessary because its acts are more ddliberative. We find ourselves almost instinctively passing judgment, on people, on actions~ ¯ on motives, judgments which are often wrong, ungenerous, suspicious. If such a tendency is left unchecked, it will make fraternal charity a very difficult thing. Such a systematic effort of purification, deeper and more searching than was called for in-the beginning of religious life, is necessary at this stage. The kind of examination which sought out .sins or exterior faults will be ineffectual now. Such an interior purification our Lord aims at in the preaching of the Beatitudes; these are the virtues which .give the disposition of heart necessary for a generous acceptance 9f His new religion. There is another region of the spi.ritual .life which calls for purification, one which is more hidden, more unexpected. even than any we have yet considered. The very spiritual life, of beginners is often full of unconscious self-seeking. In their spiritual practices they seek their own satisfaction; they look for consolation and sensible devotion in their prayers; they ar~ attached to certain, methods or forms of prayer. And their activity in spiritual things ,can produce such faults as vanity, jealousy, arid a sense of superiority over others. St, John of the Cross has devoted a long section of the Ascent of Mount Carmel to a close analysis of such faults: The control of these is the fruit of different stages of the dark. night, some of them being eliminated by the effort of the individual aided, of course, by grace, others .being so deep-seated, so well hidden that they yield only. to the action of infused prayer in the passive night of the sense. Of the second necessary condition mentioned by Lallement, docility to the Holy Spirit, it is not necessary to speak at any 219 KELLY' Review for Religious great length. "According to the instruction of our Lord, the Holy Spirit is by attribution the master of .the interior life. Describing His function our Lord said, "He will teach you all things and bring all things to your mind whatsoever I shall have said to you" (Jn. 14:26). The Paraclete was thus to teach in-teriorly what our Lord had taught by word of mouth to the apostles, opening their hearts sweetly to the fuller depths and force of His teaching. All movement in the spiritual life will be His concern, but He will be particularly active when the spiritual life is to grow more deep and interior. The finer purification already spoken of will be achieved only by His special presence. But the work of the Holy Spirit is not merely or chiefly the negative one of purification; it is still more a positive formative activity--to supply the light needed to get a deeper grasp of the spiritual life and the strength to live up to that light. The general results of this assistance of the Paraclete can be indicated here only in a summary way; they may be said to consist in a new enlightenment in three points. (I) The Holy Spirit will give a deeper understanding of the theological virtue of faith--a better realization that it is faith alone which gives us "the true and loving God" and is the true and unfail-ing approach to Him in every stage of the spiritual life on earth. (2) Again the Paraclete. will lead the soul to a kind of prayer which the soul has need of at this stage of its ad-vance. It is a prayer of great simplicity which will be nour-ished interiorly chiefly on the words of the gospel and the liturgy, the mysteries of Christianity, a prayer which opens up the teaching of Christ in such a way that it yields its sweetness and unction more abundantly. St. Ignatiu~ has described this prayer as that which enables the soul sentire et gustare res interne, . to get the true inner savor, of spiritual things. (3) But the action of the Holy Spirit will have as its chief aim to reveal Christ more fully; to make the soul realize better His role in the spiritual life. "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No man cometh to the Father but by Me.': (Jn. 14:6) 220 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS---WHo DO NOT PROGRESS A real, practical acceptance of this cardinal truth is the c-o-fi-dition and measure of advance at this stage. And it is to" be kept in mind that this is the function attributed to the Paraclete that our Lord stressed. "But when the Paraclete cometh---He Shall give testimony of Me" (Jn. 15:26) and again "He shall glorify Me because He shall receive of Mine and shall show it to you" (Jn. 16:14). The Holy Spirit is sent, then, to give testimony to Christ, to His transcendant role in the gpiritual life as the unique medium by which the soul can attain its supreme good and last end; and this is to glorify Christ by showing His true greatness. The spiritual perfection of the soul is constituted by union with Christ in charity. The stages toward this goal are marked by a fuller realization of the part which Christ must play in this advance; and, consequently, a more perfect exercise of faith and charity. The end of the process is expressed by St. Paul, "And I live, now not I; but Christ liveth in me" (Gal. 11:20). It ¯ was expressed still better by our Lord Himself as He was enter-ing on His Passion, "That they all may be one as Thou Fatl~er in Me and I in Thee; that they also may be one in Us" (Jn. 17:21). The stage of the spiritual life we have been considering, that of proficients, is simply the study of the fuller action of Christ and His Spirit at a specially critical moment. This divine action is, of course, essential in every step, even at the first; but it is deeper, stronger, more interior in the later 'and higher stages. The soul we have been considering depended on the grace and example of Christ even for its first steps. But advance beyond this initial stage calls for a more powerful aid. To qualify for that newer assistance the soul had to dispose itself by a deeper and finer asceticism. Without that special prepara-tion it could not have caught the breath of the Spirit which Christ was to send, the new impulse without which it would have languished ineffectively, if not a wreck, at least a failure. 221 HUGH KELLY From the foregoing pages it is hoped that it will appear that the division of the spiritual life into beginners, proficients, and perfect is not merely a theoretical matter, the concern of professors and historians. They are the actual stages through which, normally, all souls pass who try to realize the great design for which God has created them and for which He has given them His Son to be for them the way, the truth, and the life. It should then be clear also that the priest who is director or retreat master should have a workable knowledge of these di-visions. He is certain to come across souls who are going that way, who need his guidance and help at moments when such assistance may make just all the difference in the world. For Your Informal:ion (Continued from page 210) [American Personnel and Guidance Association- and (4) to encourage cooperation among Catholic Guidance Councils on local and regional levels." The subscription price is $1.00 per year--for three issues, autumn, winter, an~d .spring. Subscriptions should be sent to: The Catholic Counselor, 650 Grand Concourse, Bronx 51, New Yo~'k. Good Spiritual Reading? A superioress would like to obtain"a helpful list of worth-while spiritual reading books for a community." She refers to currently published books, not to the old masters. We do our best to supply such lists through our Book Review De-partment. It has occurred to us, however, that the suggestions we make in that department might be supplemented in a very practical way if our readers would send in brief communications about books they or their communities have found helpful. If you wish to recommend a book that you or your com-munity found helpful, please address your letter, to: The Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS~ St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. And please type the letter, preferably triple-spaced, at least double-spaced. 222 The eneral .Chapt:er .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. QUESTIONS AND CASES are frequently received on the general chapter. A coml~lete article on this matter would. be of prohibitive length. It would also be excessively de-tailed and technical. We believe that ~he practical purpose of such an article will be better attained by presenting the matter under the form of questions and cases. The following ques-tions are the first part of a series. I. Delegates 1. According to our constitutions, a former brother general is a mem-ber of the general chapter in virtue of this office that he had held. A former brother general is a member of our house, but he is not the local superior. The hl)use elected him as delegate to the general chapter. Does he have two votes in the general chapter? No. Anyone may be elected in a chapter who is not excluded from the office in question by canon law or the par-ticular constitutions. Canon law does not exclude the election of anyone as delegate because he otherwise has the right of membership in the general Chapter in virt'fid~"of hi~ office or from some other title, nor do the constitutions of lay institutes enact any such ~general exclusion. These constitutions also do not ordinarily .forbid the election of a former superior general as a delegate. Unless there is such an exclusion in the present constitutions, the election is valid. However, this. brother will have only one vote in the general chapter. It is certain from canon 164 that no one may cast many votes by reason of many titles to vote, e. g., a brother may not c,ast two votes in the general chapter because he is a former brother general and an elected delegate from a province or house or because he is a general councilor and also a local superior. It is not 'certain, even. though the wording of the. canon favors the contrary opinion, tl~at one may not cast many votes when the one title gives the right to many votes, e. g., if the constitutions give 223 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious the superior general or provincial two votes. The constitutions of lay institutes *do not make such a grant. A religious may cast his own vote and another as proxy for another elector when the constitutions or customs permit voting by proxy, which is excluded with practical universality in the constitu-tions of lay institutes (c. 163). 2. Doesn't canon law deprive of active voice one who had been a Catholic, joined a non-Catholic sect, returned to the faith, and had been admitted to the noviceship of a religious institute with a dispensation from the Holy See from the impediment, to entrance? The question is based on canon 167, § 1, 4°, which reads: "The following are excluded from voting: Those who joined or publicly adhered to'a heretidal or schismatical sect." However, it is a safely probably opinion that the dispensation to enter the noviceship removes also the disability of canon 167, § 1, 4"°. Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 164-65; Schaefer, De R~- ligiosis, n. 493; J.one, Commentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 171. 3. When we elect a delegate, may we instruct him whom he is to vote for and what proposals he is to vote for in the general chapter? You may not do this unless it is permitted b)) the particular law of your institute. The very few institutes that do permit this also contain a provision of the following tenor: "Ttie com-munity represented by a delegate may give him instructions regarding the election and other matters to be discussed either at the provincial or general chapter, but the delegate remains free as to the exercise of his vote for the interests of the con-gregation." 4. Is a delegate to a general chapter obliged to' accept proposals from other members of the institute? When the constitutions give prov.inces, houses, or individuals the right to make proposals, a superior or delegatd must accept the. proposal and submit it to the general chapter; but he is not obliged to promote or vote for the proposal in the chapter. If the right '.is not granted, individuals may suggest propogals 224 July , 19fi8 THE GENERAL CHAPTER to members of the chapter; but there is no obligation to accept merely suggested proposals. Anyone who makes a proposal should study carefully and even consult as to whether the pro-posal is well i:0unded and prudent. Careless, groundless, and extraneous proposals can waste a great deal of time in the chapter. II. Preliminaries 5. Our constitutions speak of the "election" ot~ local superiors and other officials by the superior general and his council. Is this an accurate expression? An election to an office in a religious institute or society of common life is the designation of a person made in a chapter. The designation to an office made by a superior alone or with the consultive or deliberative vote of a council is not an election but an appointment. The latter is frequently called an election in the constitutions of lay institutes. It is not such and is not governed by the norms on elections. 6. How long should a general chapter last in a lay congregation? Constitutions appr6ved by the Holy See state that the general chapter is not to be prolonged beyond a reasonable length of time but that no precise limits can be fixed for its duration. It is obvious that the duration will vary according to the number and importance of the matters proposed to the chapter of affairs;and it is evident also that the chapter should not be so rushed and abbreviated that it fails to perform its duties properly, especially as regards the chapter of affairs. The constant brevity of some chapters creates a suspicion that insuf-fi~ ent attention is given to the chapter of affairs. Bastien states thh~ the chapters of lay congregations, outside of particular arid~ exceptional circumstances, will last five days. (Directoire Canonique, n. ~291) This would give three full days t~or the chapter of affairs. Apt 'and careful preparation, the mimeo-graphing and previous distribution of reports, and capable direc-tion by the president will expedite the chapter and render it more efficient. 225 ,JOSEPH F. ~ALLEN Review for Religious 7. Our constitutions impose a retreat of one day before the general chapter. We believe that the retreat would be more helpful if made after the preliminary sessions and immediately before the election of the superior general. May we change the time of the retreat without securing authority to change the constitutions? Yes. The time is a completely accidental part of this law, and there is a sufficient reason for changing the time in this case. A day of prayer is most helpful for the quiet of soul and purification of motives that are necessary for any election, arid these effects are mo~e apt to persist undiminished when the retreat is made immediately before the supremely important election of the superior general. 8. What is the meaning of the article of our constitutions regarding Mass on the day of the election of the superior general, i. e., "If the rubrics permit, the Mass shall be that of the Holy Spirit"? The constitutions of lay congregations almost universally prescribe that Mass is to be oi~ered on the day of the election of the superior general in the house where the chapter is held. The intention usually specified is for the election of the superior general. Sometimes this intention is for all the work of the chapter. If the former intention is designated, it is to be coun-seled that Mass or Masses be offered on the following days for the other works of the chapter. The constitutions, with the same universality, exhort all the capitulars to receive Holy Communion at this Mass for the same intention. Even if the wording of the constitutions imposes this Communion as obligatory, it is to be interpreted as merely exhortatory (c. 595, § 4).° If the rubrics permit, the votive Mass of the Holy Spirit is to be the one used, since this is the traditional Mass for an election. It is found at the end of the missal, in the first series of votive Masses, under Thursday. If the ordo of the place of celebration permits, this Mass is ordinarily to be celebrated as a private votive Mass. It may be low, sung, or solemn. Private votive Masses when sung are forbidden on any double; any Sunday; on the privileged ferias (Ash Wednesday, Monday- Tuesday-Wednesday of Holy Week); on the privileged vigils 226 July, 1958 THE GENERAL CHAPTER (Christmas and Pentecost) ; within the privileged octaves (Christ-mas, Easter, and Pentecost); and on All Souls' Day. When read, they are forbidden also. on ferias of Lent and Passiontide; all vigils; ember days; Monday of Rogations (before Ascension) ; Dec. 17-23; Jan. 2-5 and 7-12; and Ascension-Vigil of Pente-cost. This Mass has no Gloria nor Gredo, occurring com-memorations and orationes imt~eratae are included according to the usual norms, the preface is proper, Benedicamus Domino is used at the end, and the last Gospel is that of St. John. If the election occurs on one of the forbidden days, the local ordinary may be requested to grant a solemn votive Mass. The election of a general or provincial superior is sufficient reason to give this permission. This must be a sung or solemn Mass. It is forbidden only on feasts and Sundays that are doubles of the first class; the privileged ferias (Ash Wednesday,.Monday- Tuesday-Wednesday of Holy Week) ; the privileged vigils (Christ-mas and Pentecost); within the privileged octaves of Easter and Pentecost; and on All Souls' Day. The rite of this Mass is the same as above; but there is a Gloria, Gredo, Ite, Missa est, and only imperative commemorations and orationes impera-tae/~ ro re gra~i are included. For greater solemnity, ~his Mass may also be requested on days when a private votive Mass is permitted. If neither type of votive Mass is possible, the Mass of the Office of the day must be said or sung. 9. An article of our constitutions states: "The superior general or, in her absence, the vicaress shall present to the members of the chapter a report of the m.aterial: personal, disciplinary, and financial status of the entire congregation and of all matters of greaier importance" that have occurred sim:e the last general chapter. The report is to be drawn up by the procurator general. It must be approved by the general council, who sign their names to the report before the celebration of the chapter." Does the procurator general draw up this entire report? No. The only part of the report that is drawn up by the procurator, bursar, or treasurer general is the financial section. All other sections of thd report are compiled by the mother 227 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious general herself. The material section under its economic or financial aspect appertains to the procurator, under an aspect such as the opening and closing of houses, to the mother general. It is evident that the personal and disciplinary state of the institute does not appertain to the office of the procurator general. 10. In the several general chapters that I have attended, I have found the reports of the brother general very fatiguing. What can be done to eliminate this difficulty? Since the reports are of the state of the entire institute, they can evidently be very long and detailed. The mere reading of such reports will be fatiguing to the capitulars; they will not grasp many of the details and can very readily fail also to perceive the general state of the institute or at least the content of some sections of the reports. The following obvious method will lessen these difficulties. The complete reports should be mimeo-graphed before the chapter, and numbered copies given to each capitular as soon after his arrival as is prudently possible. The members will then have a sufficiently prolonged time for studying the reports; and the brother general can confine his presentation to necessary explanations, descriptions, and to emphasizing the more important parts of the reports. The numbered copies are to be collected from the capitulars after the chapter of affairs. III. Tellers 11. Our constitutions speak of "scrutineers" at chapters. I cannot find this word in the dictionary. Is it correct? The Latin original is scrutator, feminine scrutatrix. The idiomatic translation that should be in constitutions is teller. Many awkward translations are found in constitutions, e. g., scrutators, scrutinizers, scrutatrixes, scrutatrices, examiners, depu-ties, anti ballot mistresses. The style of constitutions should be accurate, direct, simple, brief, and readily intelligible. All words redolent of formalism or legalistic jargon are to be avoided. A similar error is found in the many constitutions that speak of the first, second, etc., "scrutiny." This again is a completely literal translation of the Latin "scrutinium." The idiomatic English 228 July, 1958 translation is ballot. "Balk employed also to signify th, THE GENERAL CHAPTER ring" may also be used. "Ballot" is individual voting slip or ticket, but ! the context will exclude anyI ambiguity. 12. I have on several occasionsl been appointed as one of the two priest tellers at the elections in monaster.ies' of nuns (c. 506, .~ 2). Was I obliged to take the oath imp, osed by canon 171, § 1, on tellers? No The president a~ld the tellers, provided they are mem-bets of the chapter, are "ob oath to perform their dut proceedings of the chapter, A president who is not a m local ordinary who presides [iged by canon 171, § 1, to take an es faithfully and to keep secret the even after the close of the chapter. mber of the elective body, e. g., the at an election of religious women, is certainly not obliged to take" this oath. The same exemption from the oath probably ex~ends to tellers who are not members of the elective body and thlerefore to the two priest tellers at an election in a monastery of Inuns. Cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 8-1927-102-9; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 416; Scha~efer, De Religiosis, n. 512; De Carlo, ~ Jus Religiosorum, n. 129; ~Berutti, II, De Personis et de Clericis in Genere, 225; Parsons, Canonical Elections, 147; Lewis, Chap-ters in Religious Institutes, 107. 13. A local ordinary complained of the delay occasioned by the election of the two tellers and the secretary before the electi on of the mother general. What can we do t~ eliminate the source of this complaint? The local ordinary justifiably! complained. The tellers and the secretary should be el~ected in the first preliminary session of the chapter. The conlstitutions fisually put these elections under the section on the election of the mother general, but it is far more convenient to hold them in the early part of the first preliminary session. "~his greater convenience is a sufficient reason for changing the o~rder stated in the constitutions. The wording of a. 226 of the ~/ormae of 1901 appears to favor the elections at this prehmlna.ry session",n s li ct es t t eas that they are to be held before anything else. If this is done, the secre-tary can begin immediatel~y to corripi[e the acts, the tellers can 229 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious perform their duties also at the election of the committee for the reports of the mother general, and the local ordinary is spared a sufficiently long and inconvenient delay in presiding over the session for the election o~ the mother general. IV. Presiding 14. Who presides at the general chapter of a congregation of brothers? The brother general presides at the general chapter in lay institutes of men; but pontifical and diocesan constitutions can be found that give this right, personally or through a delegate, to the ordinary of the place of election. 15. Who presides at the election of a superioress of a monastery o~ nuns? In a monastery of nuns that is not subject to regulars, the president of the election 6f the superioress is the local ordinary or his delegate. If a monastery is subject to regulars, the local ordinary is to be opportunely informed of the day and hour of the election. The presidency appertains to the ordinary or his delegate, if eithdr attends; but either may attend and leave the presidency wholly or partially to the regular superior. If neither the local ordinary nor his delegate attends, the regular superior presides (c. 506, § 2). The regular superior also may preside through a delegate (c. 199, § 1). As in the case of a mother general, canon 506, § 2, confines the presidency of the local ordinary or regular superior to the election of the superioress; but this presidency is extended to the elections of the councilors by the law of many constitutions. Canon 506, § 3, forbids the appointment of the ordinary confessor of the community as a teller for the election of the superioress in a monastery of nuns. This prohibition extends to his delegation as president of. such an election, since the office of president implies also the duties of a teller. 16. Our pontifical constitutions read: "The bishop of the diocese pre-sides at the chapter as the Apostolic Delegate, personally or in the person of any priest authorized by him." Is this correct? 230 July, 1958 In the law of the C THE ~ENERAL CHAPTER ~de of Canon Law, the ordinary ~f the placd of election presides, personally or through a deIegate, at the election of the mother general in pontifical and'diocesan congregations and at both in virtue of his office as local ordinary. Before the code, May 19, 1918, the local ordinary presided at the chapters of diocesan congregations in virtue of his office but at the elections in pontifical congregations as the delegate of the Holy See. The law befoie the code was based on the apostolic constitution, "Conditae a Christo," of Leo XIII, De-cember 8, 1900, Chapter I, n. II, Chapter ~II, n. I. There. fore, the wording of your constitutions is of a law that no longer exists. This is a probable indication of constitutions that were never conformed to the Code of Canon Law. Cf. Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 509; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 251, 1; Bat-tandier, Guide Canonique, n. 363; Wernz-Vidal, III, De Religiosis, n. 119. ¯ SOME BOOKS RECEIVED [Only books sent directly to the Book Review Editor, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] The Pulpit, the Press and the Paulists. By Reverend John F. Ritzius, C.S.P. The Paulist Press, 401 West 59th Street, New York 19 New York. $1.00 (paper cover). Come, Holy Spirit.* By" Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. Society of St. Paul, 2187 Victory Boulevard~ Staten Island 14, New York. 25c (paper cover). Gli Istituti Secolari nella Nuova Legislazione Canonica. By Dr. Giuseppe M. Benucci'. Catholic Book Agency, Via de[ Vaccaro, 5, Rome. A Catholic Child's Book about the Mass. By Reverend Louis A~ Gales. Catechetical 'Guild Educational Society, 260 Summit Avenue, St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $1.95 (paper cover). My Catholic Faith. By Most Reverend Louis L. R. Morrow. My Mission House, 1324 52nd Street, Kenosha, Wisconsin. $4.00. Perpetual Help Daily Missal. In four volumes. Perpetual Help Center, 294 East 150th Street, New York 51, New York. A Land of Miracles for Three Hundred Years. By Eugene Lefebvre, C.SS.R. St. Anne's Bookshop, Ste. Anne de Beaupre, Quebec, Canada. $2.00. 231 Survey of Roman Document:s R. I~. Smil~h, S.,J. [In the present survey there will be given a summary of the documents which appeared in /Iota /lpostolicae Sedis (AAS) during the months of February and March, 1958. Page references throughout the article will be to the 1958 ,~AS (v. 50).] Pertaining to the Religious Life ON FEBRUARY 11, 1958 (AAS, pp. 153-61), the Holy Father addressed an allocution to the superiors general of the orders and congregations of religious men with generalates in the city of Rome. The allocution consisted prin-cipally of a geries of matters which the Pontiff thought it opportune to bring to the attention of his listeners. Since there is danger that religious may become imbued with existenti-alism to the detriment of eternal truthi the Pope warned ¯ superiors to draw their own inspiration from file fonts of re-vealed truth and from the teaching power of the Church. Even in ascetical matters there, are some who wish to withdraw from the teaching of the Church; accordingly, he advised su-periors to adhere firmly to the balanced and solid ascetical doctrine traditional in the Church. In this and in all other matters superiors must consult and study the question at length; but, once the~ have reached a decision, then they must un-hesitatingly lead their subjects along the path they have chosen. In this connection the Vicar of Christ deplored any attitude that would assume that the yoke of religious obedience is too heavy for men of the present time; rather the superior should constantly keep in mind that as superior he is responsible for the spiritual welfare of his subjects. His Holiness then considered the renunciation of worldly things that is common to all religious groups, however else they may be diversified. This renunciation, he remarked, must be complete in desire, though in actuality it may vary according 232 ROMAN DOCUMENTS to the exigencies of each religious family. The need for this renunciation, the Pope said, is obvious; for how can anyone ascend to God by the wings of charity if. he is not free from the multiform concupiscence of the world? Moreover, no one can enjoy the comfort~ and pleasures of the world without losing something of his spirit of faith and charity. And pro-longed laxness and indulgence can gradually and insensibly lead to defection from one's state in life. The Vicar of Christ then observed to the assembled su-periors that their way of acting and judging must be different from that of the world; for their norm of action is that of the gospel and the Church: Christ crucified. Accordingly, superiors must nourish this Christian attitude in themselves by a diligent consideration of the things of God, by the study of sound doctrine, and by a familiarity with ancient and recent writers who excelled both in faith and in piety. These same norms' of thought and action must also be followed by their subjects;. they must seek not the pleasant and the comfortable but God alone, whom they will find in the assiduous control of" the senses by austerity and of the will by submission to religious obedience. The .Pontiff also spent some little time on the matter of religious rules. These were drawn up, he said, by religious fohnders to secure peace and serenity of spirit for members of their societies. While some of these rules may need modification in non-essential matters, esteem for the rule in general must never be lost. It is the duty of superiors to maintain the rule of each institute; this at times will require firmness which, however, should never degenerate into harshness. In the concluding part of his address His Holiness ex-horted his listeners to build up a spirit of union and cooperation among the various religious institutes of the Church. He urged them to be especially notable in their zealous obedience to the Holy See and advised them to be strict in the matter of admission of candidates to religious life; otherwise, he warned, 233 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious religious groups will be not an honor to the Church, but a disgrace. On July 30, 1957 (AAS, p. 103), the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious issued a document declaring that the apostolic constitution~ Sedes Sal~ientiae and .its accompanying Statutes are applicable to. all religious congregations and societies who li,~e in common without, public vows and who are dependent on the Sacred Congregation of the Consistory or on the Con-gregation for the Propagation of the Faith. The only exception concerns the executive function considered in Article 18 of the Statutes; in this matter the competency of .the Sacred Cons.istgry and of Propaga~tion is retained for those religious societies entrusted to those congregations by common law or .by apostolic privilege. Educational Matters Under the date of December 8, 1957 (AAS, pp. 99-I03), the Sacred Congregation .of Religious issued an important instruction concerning coeducation. The document considers the matter of coeducation only in secondary schools;' coedtica-tion in colleges and universities is not envisaged ih the document, while coeducation in primary schools is left to the discretion of the. ordinary. The document deals successively with the prin-ciples, by which a correct estimate of coeducation can be made; the obligatory norms which must be observed wherever co-education appears to be necessary; and the measures (the Latin word is aautiones) recommended to rem0.ve the evils that accompany coeducation. In the section dealing with principles the document states that coeducation on the whole cannot be approved. Although it has a number of definite advantages., still the danger it entails to morality, especially during the time of puberty, out- ¯ weigh all those advantages. Nevertheless, in some cases co-education may be a lesser evil. Thus where Catholic students would be exposed to grave danger to their faith by attending public schools and where the Catholics of the region cannot 234 July, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS afford separate schools for boys and girls, coeducation may be tolerated provided the dangers to morality are averted as far as possible. In dealing with the obligatory norms to be followed such situ~itions, the document urges~ the practice of what it calls "coinstitutional" education in place of coeducation. "Co-institution" provides for a sirigle building under a single administration with, however, separate wings or sections, one for boys, the other for girls. Such a school may have a common library as well as common science laboratories provided the latter are used at different tim~s by the boys and girls. Where this "coinstitution" is impossible, then coeducation may be tolerated; but the conduct of such coeducational schools is to be included in the quinquennial reports; moreover, each of the national councils of bishops can set up definite norms to be observed wherever coeducation is practiced in their respec-tive countries. The last section of the document then lists a series of recommendations. The religious men and women chosen to teach in coeducational schools should be persons whose virtue and judgment have already been proven. Each school should have a spiritual director who is to be in charge of the spiritual li~e of the student body. Religious men are no.t to be in charge of coeducational schools except in rare cases and then only after an indult has been secured from the Sacred Con-gregation of Religious. Common physical and gymnastic ac-tivities or competitions must be avoided. Schools should not provide boarding facilities for both sexes. Separate entrances and separate locker facilities should be provided for students of each sex. Gym classes and dramatic productions should not be in common; and boys and girls should receive separate ¯ instruction in the sixth commandment, in parts of biology, and in other similar areas of study. Finally, the document recom-mends that religious men who teach or exercise the ministry 235 Review for Religious in coeducati6nal schools should limit their activities with regard to the girl students to the exercise of their assigned work. On January 3, 1958 (AAS, pp. 82-85), the Holy Father spoke to a group of religious women associated with the work of Catholic Action. He urged them to give their students a fully human and Christian formation. They must prepare their students to judge the world as it actually is, to see how. the world should be, and then to work unceasingly until the world corresponds to the divine plan for it. The Pope praised his listeners for their endeavor to build up a strong core of Catholic Action among their students, a core which will be first in every-thing: in studies, in discipline, in piety. On December 28, 1957 (AAS, pp. 118-19), the Sacred Peniter~tiary released the text of a prayer composed by the Holy Father to be recited by those who teach. Teachers may gain an indulgence of 1,000 days each time they recite the prayer with contrite heart. Family Life On January 2.0, 1958 (AAS, pp. 90-96), the Roman Pontiff addressed the members of the Italian Federation of Associations of Large Families. After pointing out that one of the most dangerous aberrations of modern paganized society is the opinion of those who define fecundity in marriage as a social malady, he continued by remarking that common sense has always recognized large families as the sign and proof of physical health, while history shows that the non-observance of the laws of marriage and of procreation is a primary cause ot~ the decadence of nations. Later in hi~ talk the Holy Father takes up the matter of overpopulation. God, he said, does not deny the means of livelihood to those whom He has called into life. If individual episodes, large or small as the case may be, at times seem to prove the contrary, these are in reality only signs that man has placed some impediment to the execution of the divine plan. 236 Ju~, 1958 ROMAN ~)OCUMENTS Overpopulation, then, to the extent that it exists, is due not to the inertia of Providence but to the disorder of men. Since progress in science and newly discovered sources of energy guarantee the earth prosperity for a long time to come, since no one can foresee what now-hidden resources will one day be discovered in our planet, and since no one can tell whether the rate of procreation will always be equal to that of today, overpopulation is not a valid reason for the use of illicit means of birth control. It would be more rational to apply human energy to the eradication of the causes of famine in underdeveloped countries, to foster less nationalistic economies, and to replace egoism by charity, avarice by justice. Moreover, God does no~ demand of men responsibility for the over-all destiny of humanity--that is His affair; but He does demand of them that they follow the dictates of their consciences. In the final section of the allocution the Holy Father says that in the intention of God every family is to be an oasis of spiritual peace. This is especially true of large families, for in the parents of such families there is no trace of .anguish of conscience or fear of an irreparable return to solitude; in such families, too, thework and hardship involved are repaid even in this life by the affection of the children. A large family assists in the formation of character; indeed, in the history of the Church large families would seem to have a special preroga-tive of producing saints, as is shown in the cases of St. Louis, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Robert Bellarmine, and St. Pius X. The Pontiff concluded his speech by urging his listeners to work unceasingly for the economic welfare and protection of large families, dxhorting them to wake society from its lethargy on this point. On January 19, 1958 (AAS, pp. 85-90), His Holiness "addressed 15,000 Italian women engaged in domestic work. He told them that their work excelled other forms of labor such as agricultural or industrial occupations, for these latter are chiefly concerned with things, while their own work is con- 237 R. F. SMITH l~eview for Religious cerned with persons. Because 0f this the relations between domestic servants and their employers must be. regulated not only by the laws of commutative justice but also by.a mutual interchange of human values. Love must lighten the tasks of the domestic worker; and that love can not be repaid by money alone, but by an exchange of affection. He further p?inted out to his listeners that they must gauge the importance of their work by considering that their activity is directed to the existence and stability of family life. Hence, they should be concerned for the good name of the family they work for,. seek to develop harmony among its members, and help in the correct formation of the children. He concluded his allocution by urging the women listening to him to consider their work as a service rendered to God in the person of their neighbor; he also reminded the employers of domestic servants that these servants, if they devote all their activity to their work, themselves deserve a family wage. On December 30, 1957 (AAS, pp. 119~20), the Sacred Penitentiary published the text of a prayer composed by the Holy~Father to be recited by members of Christian families, who, each time they recite the prayer with contrite heart, may gain an indulgence of 1,000 days. Miscellaneous Several documents which appeared in February and March concern the liturgy and the Church's life of worship. On February 8, 1958 (AAS, p. 114), the Holy Office issued a document condemning the growing practice of delaying baptism because of alleged liturgical reasons bolstered by foundationless opinions concerning the condition of infants dying without baptism. Hence, the Holy Office warns the faithful that infants should be baptized as soon as possible in accordance with canon 770. Five days later on February 14, 1958 (AAS, p. 114), the Holy Office issued another document dealing with another 238 July, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS abuse, this one consisting in adding prayer or scripture passages to liturgical functions or in deleting prescribed pfayers~ from such functions. The document restates the current discipline of the Church that only the Holy See. can make changes in the ceremonies, rites, prayers, and readings of liturgical functions. On February 5, 1958 (AAS, p. 104), the Sacred Congre-gation of Rites empowered lbcal ordinaries to permit the blessing of ashes to be repeated before afternoon Mass on Ash Wednesday, provided the Mass is attended by large numbers of the faithful. Under.the date of January 7, 1958 (AAS, pp. 179-81), the same congregation ai~proved the miracles needed for the canonization: of Blessed Juana Joaquina de Vedruna de Mas (1783-1854), .widow and foundress of the~ Carmelite Sisters of Charity. ~ Four other talks of the Holy Father, the texts of whic~ were published du.ring February~ and March, should be noted. On i%bruary 1~8, 1958 (AAS, pp. 161-69), His Holiness delivered the traditio'nal¯ allocution to. the parish priests and Lenten preachers of Rome. He urged .his listeners to make the greatest efforts during the forthcoming extraordinary mission to' be held throughout the city of Rome on the occasion of the centenary of the apparitions at Lourdes. He told them to stress three matters. The first is' that of the sanctificati6n of Sundays and holy days; the second is respect for one's own life and, hence, a repudiation of suicide, a ~in which not only excludes the normal channels of divine mercy, but is also an indication 'of a lack of~'Christian faith and hope;' the third point to be stressed is respect for the lives of others to be shown by a sense of Christian responsibility with regard to the ingreasing traffic accidents in the city of Rome. He concluded his allocu-tion by exhorting the priests present to tell the people during the coming mission that the world needs priest and religious saints, but above all at the present time it needs a multitude of lay saints. 239 R. F. SMITH On January 14, 1958 (AAS, pp. 150-53), the Pontiff addressed the professors and students of the Angelicum, urging them to imitate in their lives St. Thomas Aquinas. Like that great saint, they should have the greatest docility and respect for the teaching authority of the Church; like him they should strive for a profound knowledge of Scripture; and in imitation of him they should foster an intense interior life where charity, the queen of the virtues, may reign[ On February 22, 1958 (AAS, pp. 170-74), 10,000 rail-road workers of Italy heard an allocution given by the Holy Father. The Pontiff: told his audience that their occupation should constantly remind them of the most important of human travels--human life itself which is a journey to the possession of God. On February 19, 1958 (AAS, pp. 174-76), the Pon-tiff broadcast a message to the school children of the United States to solicit their charity for the needy children of other countries. He devoted his message to St. Joseph, telling the children that St. Joseph who is the protector of the Church is asking them to contribute their part to the needs of other children throughout the world. Two documents of the period under survey concern political matters. On February 1, 1958 {AAS, pp. 68-81), a convention was ratified between the Apostolic See and the Republic of Bolivia. On January 27, 1958 {AAS, pp. 121-22}, the Sacred Penitentiary issued the text of a prayer composed by His Holiness to be recited by Catholic legislators and poli-ticians. Each time they recite the prayer with contrite heart they can gain an indulgence of three years. The last document to be considered was issued on February 15, 1958 (AAS, p. 116), as a declaration of the excommunica-tion of three Hungarian priests who participated' in the Hun-garian Parliament contrary to the decree of the same congre-gation previously issued on July 16, 1957 (See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January 15, 1958, pp. 48-49). 240 t oo! Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] MAN AND HIS HAPPINESS. Theology Library, Vol. III. Edited by A. M. Henry, O.p. Translated from the French by Charles Miltner, C.S.C. Pp. xxxix and 420. Fides Publishers Associa-tion, Chicago. 1956. $6.50. THE VIRTUES AND STATES OF LIFE. Theology Library, Vol. IV. Edited by A. Mo Henry, O.P. Translated from the French by Robert J. Olsen and Genevieve T. Lennon. Pp. xii and 778. Fides Publishers Association, Chicago. 1956. $8.75. With these two volumes the Theology Library moves into the realm of moral theology. The Preface and Introduction to Volume III are at pains to point out that in the conception of the authors moral theology is not distinguished from dogmatic theology as is done in many manuals. Volume III treats of moral matters in their general principles: the happiness of man, psychological and moral analysis of human action, the passions, habits and virtues, sin, law, and grace. Volume IV descends to a more particular treatment which considers the theological virtues, the cardinal virtues, charismatic gifts, the functions, states, and orders in the Church, the active and the contemplative life, and, finally, Christian perfection. It is safe to wager that the matter contained in these volumes will prove very interesting simply because of the subject matter which certainly "comes home to our hearts and our bosoms." Father 'Tonneau's remarks in the Introduction to Volume III about the mistake of transferring mere social relations to our rela-tions to God and thus trying to determine the pattern of morality and its foundation are timely. God is primarily a creator of natures before being a legislator. The brief sketch of Christian mora|ity -from the New Testament in the introductory chapter is from the pen of Father Spicq who is well qualified for the task. One may well ask, though, whether the distinction, not to use a stronger word, which he draws between the morality of the Old and the New Testaments is not overdone. As in the preceding volumes, each chapter is followed by a section called "Reflexions and Perspectives" and by a bibliography. In these volumes the French bibliography is not translated into English. 241 .Review for Religiou:~ It may come as a surprise to many (it should be a pleasant surprise) to find a treatise on morality opening with a consideration about man's happiness. This was prepared for by Father Tonneau's Introduction wherein morality is seen in the perspective, not primarily; of law and obligation, but of rational pursuit of happiness. The profundity of this starting-point becomes apparent when the author shows, rightly it seems, that man has a natural de~ire for seeirig the essence of God." The chapter on the passions is well done and brings to light some poin. ts about "the irascible" which are either neglected or, worse, misunderstood. In the chapter on grace there is a long introdtictory section on the meaning of grace in Scripture. This is definitely a gain. Unfortunately, the study is'confined~ mainly to the word grace and its meaning. Such a method leaves wide gaps: in St. Paul the meaning of the terms Spirit and spiritual should have been studied to help grasp the reality of the gift and its super-naturality. Actually, the writer was forced to follow such a pro-cedure for St. John who. expresses the reality of grace by the term eternal life. The theological treatment of grace is admittedly a difficult task. Even given the scriptural foundations, the history of thought about grace is almost required if one is to grasp "the" significance of t~rms, problems, and solutions. Here it seems that 'the work has not been well done. The various divisions of the meaning of the word grace include that of operative and cooperative. Augustine provided the basis for this distinction, but the explanation given on page 384 does not 'correspond with that of St. Thomas in I-II,111,2. Further, the statement about the meaning of excitant and assistant grace in the Council of Trent is not correct. Now, while one may legitimately develop his own theory and interpretation of both Thomas and Trent, it ought to be made clear, especially with regard to the council, that this is' an interpretation. Finally, what was the use of this discussion on operative, and cooperative grace? It seems that the distinction functions only once. in the subsequent pages and, actually, provides no clarification in its application. The whble treatment, of justification is unsatisfying. The writer seems to be so anxious to insist on the instantaneous occurrence of justification that he neglects other equally important aspects of the matter. In., Volume IV, on the virtues and the states of life,, we have matter which will prove still more interesting. It is in this volumd that greater originality is attempted, all the while adhering to the 242 July, 1958 BOOK REVIEWS fundamental doctrine of St. Thomas. Of all the chapters in this volume the most original is the first, on faith, by Father Li~g~. It may well prove to be the most helpful: it is concrete, psychological as well as metaphysical, and offers some excellent suggestions about the faith in reference to its different "ages" in the child, the adolescent, the adult. Finally, this chapter is up-to-date. The writer takes full cognizance of the latest work on the relation of sigfis (miracles) to th~ genesis of the act of faith, the question of immanence and connaturality.in the judgment of credibility, and the need of affirming the motive of faith in the act of faith. This latter point is well brought out by insisting on the very meaning of revelation as the self-disclosure of a person ~o persons. The fact of Jesus Christ's being "the fulness of the Word of God" is established and the consequences of this for a right understanding of the development of dogma are indicated. The insistence, in the last chapter, on the call of all Christians to perfection is most acceptable and~ forms a fitting close to the two volumes °which began with the statement that man naturally desires to know and love God in whom his happiness and, therefore, his perfection consists. . If we must add here some complaints that were voiced about the earlier volumes of the Theology Library, we must be forgiven for the simple reason that we are performing the duty of a revie~ker. First, the translation, in general, is better. Yet there are numerous blunders. There is still the tendency to retain in English the narrative present tense of the French; the antecedents of pronouns are not always clear. There is no doubt that some of the responsibility for the difficulty exlSerienced by the English reader lies with the authors of the articles themselves. They have written rapidly, even hastily, so that, at times, one gets the impression that he is reading jottings. Combine this with the difficulty of the subject matter and the technical vocabulary (sometimes Latin phrases and sentences are left in the original Latin), and you have books which will not prove easy reading for the un-initiated.-- JA,x~ES J. DOYLIL S.J. THE WORSHIP OF THE CHURCH. A Companion to Liturgical Studies. By William J. O'Shea, S.S., D.D. Pp. 646.The lqew. n/an Press, Westminster," Maryland. 1957. $7.00. After more than thirteen years of careful preparation, Father O'Shea presents in the present volume a comprehensive, mode[n study, well calculated to supplement knowledge of the liturgy gleaned from 243 ]~OOK REVIEWS Review for Religious primary sources. The author treats his subject very thoroughly from all important aspects and with great attention to detail. The result is a fund of thought-provoking material not only for the dlerical reader (for whom the book was ~riginally intended) but also for all who would draw near to the fullest participation in ~he official prayer of the Church. Having explained the definition of the liturgy given in Mediator Dei, Father O'Shea goes on to discuss its latreutic-sanctifying purpose. Attention is here and elsewhere given to the pivotal question of re-quisite interior disposition without which external liturgical elements quickly degenerate into vacuous formalism. As interior devotion fosters liturgical observance, so too the liturgy occasions (and even causes through its sacraments) an increase in interior graces con-sonant with its purpose: the glory of God and the sanctification of souls. Further chapters turn in detail to the impersonal and objective components of the full liturgy in the light of its historical develop-ment under the guidance of the Holy See. The Holy Sacrifice, the Divine Office, the sacraments, and the major sacramentals are all treated in great detail, as well as their exterior surroundings, in-clusive of vestments, liturgical music, and art forms. A special chapter is devoted to consideration of the liturgical year. The whole book spells out the magnificent plan of the liturgy intoa splendid living, mosaic of corporate worship in which the individual grows in grace as he willingly" takes active part. There are difficulties. But the cumulative effect of the pre-sentation is intellectually satisfying, if the reader is willing to work and does not allow himself to be weighed down by the great mass of detail. Firmly grounded intellectual conviction about the value of the full liturgy is precisely what is needed and is precisely what the author brings to his persistent student. The conclusion reached, however, will be best realized by most of us through actual par-ticipation in the full liturgy, to which the book is but the necessary scientific prelude. Great stress is accorded throughout the work to the corporate character of Christian worship, in which each member of the Mystical Body of Christ is ideally to participate in the fullest measure allowed by his state of life. The result is a desired liturgical context in which the various recognized systems of spirituality participate and from which they draw in due proportion to their secondary purposes assigned by the Church. 244 July, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS The presentation is characteristically positive and enthusiastic in its total import. Its major thesis is one that recommends itself to the prayerful consideration of all who are in a position to influence liturgical practice--if only in their own lives. In practice, for the individual religious or diocesan priest the theme idea may merely mean the more spirited performance of liturgical actions already engaged in. But depth of spirit here and desire for fuller participation under the guidance of obedience are viewed as an excellent index of sound spirituality in full accord with the mind of the Church'. The book is well recommended to the serious student and for conferences to religious, aimed at deeper appreciation of our liturgical heritage.--.¥IATTHE\V ~_~. CREIGHTON, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCI=MI=NTS THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, 620 Michigan Avenue, N.E., Washington 17, D. C. Fast and Abstinence in thd First Order of Saint Francis. A Historical Synopsis and a Commentary. By Jordan J. Sullivan, O.F.M.Cap. This is a dissertation submitted to the faculty of the Catholic University of America. Pp. 133. Paper 2.00. CLONMORE & REYNOLDS,. LTD., 29 Kildare Street, Dublin. Mary. Mary's Seven Words. Mary's Seven Sorrows. By Peter Lippert, S. J. Simple, thought-provoking material suitable for medi-tation and spiritual reading. Pp. 78. Paper 5/6. Saint Clare of Assisi. By a Poor Clare Colettine. Meditations on the life and virtues of St. Clare. P.72. Paper 3/-. Saint Anthbny of Padua. By Olive M. Scanlan. A brief bi-ogral:; hy of a very popular saint. Pp. 62. Paper 4/6. Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. By Dom Ernest Graf, O.S.B. A commentary and explanation of the new liturgy of Holy Week. Books like this are necessary if the faithful are to learn to appreciate the new liturgy. Pp. 88. Paper 5/-. FIDES PUBLISHERS, 744 East 79th Street, Chicago 19, Illinois. What They Ask About the Church. By Monsignor J. D. Con-way. The questions are real and the answers have appeared for the most part in the Davenport Catholic Messenger and the Catholic 245 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious Digest. Here they are ~irranged topically under six heads. If you are looking for honest, clear, and convincing answers to the ques-tions non-Catholics ask about the Church, you will find them in the book. It should prove a valuable aid to all engaged in convert work. Pp. 338. $3.95. FRANCISCAN EDUCATIONAL CONFERENCE, Capuchin Col-lege, Washington 17, D. C. Franciscan Life Today. Report of the thirty-seventh annual meeting of the Franciscan Educational Conference, St. Anthony's Seminary, Santa Barbara, California, August 12-14, 1956. The topics discussed at the conference were all ascetical and as such of interest to all religious. We single out for special mention the following: Renovatio Accommodata; the place of the religious state, of the religious priesthood, of the religious brother in the Church; the value of the common life; genuine concept of obedience; modern dangers to chastity. Pp. 326. Paper $3.75. HAWTHORNE BOOKS, INC., 70 Fifth Avenu'e, New York I1, New York. This Is the Mass as described by Henri Daniel-Rops, as cele-brated by Fulton J. Sheen, as photographed by Yousuf Karsh, with an introduction by Bishop Sheen. We can never understand ~nd appreciate the Mass adequately and so must strive always to grow in understanding and appreciation of this august mystery. No opportunity to learn more about the Mass should be allowed to escape us. If you have read re. any books about the Ma~s, do not dismiss this one as just another book, for its read!ng will profit you greatly; if you have not, this is an excellent book with which to begin your study of the "perfect act of worship of God. Pp. 159. $4.95. B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15 South Broadway, St. Lo.uis 2, Missouri. Summa of the Christian Life. Vol. III. Selected texts from the WritinSs of Venerable Louis of Granada. O.P, Translated and adapted by Jordan. Aumann, O.P: This is the final volume of a classic treatment on the Christian life. It is number eleven in the "Cross and Crown Series of Spirituality." In this volume, which is divided into three books, th~ first, of 206 pages, deals with the Life of Christ;-the second, 0f 102 pages, treats of the sacr.aments; the third, of 46 pages, is on the last things: death, judgment, the p~ains of hell, eternal glory. Pp. 372. $4.75. 246 July, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS P. J. KENEDY. & SONS, 12 Barclay Street, New York 8, New York. My Last Book, by James M. Gillis, C.S.P., is a book of informal meditations. The ai~thor characterizes them in these words: "These meditations are designed primarily as a help to 'personal religion.'" Again "What. we seek is quiet consideration, reflection, concentration upon the truths of religion." You will like these meditations, the last work of a man grown old in the service of God--he was eighty-one when he diedmand determined to work for God even in his fihal illness. Pp. 246. $3.95. LOYOLA UNIVERS~'TY PRESS, 3441 North Ashlarid Avenue, Chic'~go 13, Illinois. Challenge. By fohn W. O'Malley, S.J., Edward J. McMaho.n, S.J., Robert E. Cahill, S.J., and Carl J. Armbruster, s.J. Challenge is a prayerbook intended primarily for the y?ung, for those not too old to be roused to give of their best when they meet a challenge. It is much more than just a collection of prayer formulae, for it essays to guide its readers to an intense and elevated spirithal life. Ev~en mental prayer "comes in for excellent treatment. The ideals it unfolds for the user are highf they offer a definite challenge. This is a prayerbo~k which you will want to reco'mmend to your students, You might even find it profitable for your own use. ~Sp. 243.~2.50. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Our Lady Queen of the Religious Life. By Louis~Colila, C.SS.R. Translated by Sister Maria Constance and Sister Agnes Th~r~se. ALl .religious instinctively venerate Mary, the Mother of Jesus, as their Mother and Queen. Father Cblin articulates this instinctive devotion in a new title of' Mary as Queen of the Religious Life. He writes this book not to prove a thesis, for One does not prove what all accept unquestioningly, but to show how very appropriate the title is. The book is divided into t[iree parts. In Part One he shows how~our Lady is the ideal df the.religiou~ life; in Part Two he explains how Mary ig the source of that life; and in Part Three he treats of the" Marian devotion of religious. You will"like this book. Pp. 234. $3.75. Melody" in Your Hearis. Edited by Reverend Georg'e L. Kane. This book is ~/" very ~interesting "and eklifyirig human document: Thirteen sisters tell what" "the religious life ha~ been ~fid meant for them, thdir satisfaction in their work, their joys ahd ~orrows, dis- 247 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious appointments and achievements. Four years ago these same sisters gave the reascms that prompted them to become religious in the book Why I Entered the Cdnvent. The present volume is another effective instrument to promote vocations to the religious life among young girls. Pp. 173. $3.00. Woodstock Papers No. 1. A Catholic Primer on the Ecumenical 'Movement. By Gustave Weigel, S.J. Pp. 79. Paper 95c. Woodstock Papers No. 2 The Testimony of the Patristic Age Concerning Mary's Death. By Walter J. Burghardt, S.J. Pp. 59. Paper 95c. These two volumes introduce a new series of theological essays projected by the .professors of Woodstock College. Several are to appear each year. They are intended primarily for the grow-ing number of lay men and women interested in theology. This means that they will be written in a popular vein yet with care so as not to sacrifice theological accuracy. The choice of topics will be such as to be of interest and assistance, so the projectors of the .series hope, also to their colleagues in the field. Guidance in Spiritual Direction. By Reverend Charles Hugo Doyle. "Tl~e dual purpbse of this book," the author tells his reader, "is to interest more priests in becoming spiritual directors in the fullest sense of the word, and, at the same time, to provide, in as logical and simple a manner as possible, fundamental rules in spiritual guidance as found in the writings of the great masters of the spiritual life." After you have read the book, you will agree that the author does accomplish his second aim. Only time can tell whether he will also gain his first purpose. Pp. 301. $4.75. Stonyhurst Scripture Manuals: The Gospel According to Saint Matthew. The Gospel According to Saint Luke. The Gospel According to Saint John. The general editor of the series is Philip Caraman, s.J. The commentary and the introduction for each volume are by C. C. Martindale, s.J. The books are intended for school use; and the notes and commentaries, therefore, are such as will be most useful for students studying the Gospels for the first time. The volumes average better than 200 pages and sell for $3.00 each. Martyrs of the United States. Manuscript of Preliminary Studies Prepared by the Commission for the Cause of Canonization of the Martyrs of the United States. Edited by Reverend Monsignor James M. Powers, LL.D. This book deserves wide circulation. From it you will learn to your surprise that there are 118 individuals who 248 July, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS cain claim to have died a martyr's death in the United States. They deserve to be better known. You can advance their cause by learaing to know them, by invoking their aid privately, and by getting others to do so. Pp. 196. $3.20. The Best Poems of John Banister Tabb. Edited with an intro-duction by Dr. Francis E~ Litz. An exceptional treat for the lovers of verse. The poems are arranged in chronological order and so the reader can follow the development of Father Tabb's art~ Pp. 191. $3.00. A Legend of Death and Love. By Joseph Kerns, S.J'. Illustrated by Edward O'Brien. A Poem of 454 lines concerning a heroic trumpeter of Cracow, the Tartar invasion, and our Lady. Pp. 45. 1.75. ST. GREGORY SEMINARY, Mount Washington Station, Cincinnati 30, Ohio. Mosaic of a Bishop. Des.igned by Reverend Maurice E. Reardon, S.T.D. Here is something original in biography. You meet the late archbishop of Cincinnati, John T. McNicholas, O.P., S.T.M., in his own writings. You learn of the details of his life from numerous notes and essays of the designer which serve to introduce many of the sermons, addresses, and lectures. The whole makes a very im-pressi_ ve monument to a distinguished churchman. Pp. 365. $6.00. SHEED & WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3, New York. The Risen Christ. By Caryll Housela~der. The author needs no introduction, since most ~eaders are familiar with her books an~ the originality and freshness of her thought. She died almost four years ago (October 12, 1954), and so it is something of a mystery to find her author of a new book. No ghost writer is involved, for the style and manner are geauine. The publishers could throw light on this problem, but have not chosen to do so. We recommend this book unreservedly. We found it very stimulating and predict that you will too. Pp. 111. $2.75. The Priestly Life. A Retreat by Ronald Knox. This retreat was given by Father Knox to semiaarians when death was imminent though he did not realize it. In it he shares with his audience the wisdom gathered in a long and active life. Though the meditations were written for priests and seminarians, the faults pointed out and the virtues insisted upon are faults all of us should correct and virtues we should all strive to acquire. Pp. 176. $3.00. 249 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious Approach to Penance. By Dom Hubert van Zeller, O.S.B. "If you were asked to put on paper what you know about penance, it is. very. likely that you would not need very much paper, particularly if you were told to leave the sacrament of penance out ot: account. If this is true, then you must read Dom ZeIler's book Approach to Penance. In it you will find an unusually complete and adequate treatment of what most ot: us findto be a painful subject. He does not succeed in making penance attractive, but he will convince you olc its necessity and show you how you can practice it.~ Pp. 104. World Crisis and the Catholic. Here is a collection of studies by lay Catholic men and women, all of whom have become nationally or even internationally prominent in their various fields. They view the modern world and its problems and indicate, each in his own field, what must be done to arrive at a solution: Pp. 231. $3.00. SISTERS OF THE VISITATION, 202 Bancroft Parkway, Wilming-ton 6, Delaware. Lights and Counsels, by the late Right Reverend Alfred A. Curtis, D.D., is a collection of brief spiritual thoughts, one for each day of the year. This is a new printing and now contains an index. Pp. 125. Paper 50c. Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor cat~ort ldw at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] --20 - John and. Mary, both of the Syrian rite, immigrated to this country and settled in a town that had only a church of the Latin rite. Thus both automatically passed to the Latin rite. Their daughter Rose, now a professed religious of perpetual vows, was baptized in this Latin "church and consequently is a Latin.~ Are my conclusions correct? No. John and l~.ary remained in the Syrian rite, since par-ticipation ,in another rite, no matter how prolonged, does not effect a change of rite (c. 98, ~ 5). Rose should have been baptized in the rite of her Syrian parents (c. 756, § 1),. She belongs to the rite in which she should ordinarily have been baptized, even if a 25O July, 1958 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS serious reason legitimated the baptism in another rite (c. 98, § 1), and is therefore of the Syrian rite. Her religious professions are valid, since the permission for an Oriental to enter a Latin novitate is required only for the liceity, not the validity, of the noviceship (c. 542, 2°).~ However, even though Rose is a professed of per-petual vows, this permission is still to be obtained. This whole subject and the m~nner of requesting the permission were explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1949, 241-54. Does there exist any canonical prohibition against institutes of men having authority over or the direction of

Issue 4.4 of the Review for Religious, 1945. ; " GRACE AND ~BEAUTY~--G'. AuguStine Ellard, S.J" . 217 ENEMIES OF FAITHmF. X. McMenamy, S.J . " . 229 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE Walter J.On.g, S.J. y : . ~'230 ¯ WHY DOES FATHER ASK QUESTIONS? Gerald Kelly, S.J. Bo~JKs RECEIVED . , . .~252~ PERFECTION IS UNION WI*FH,GOD .~Aug, ustine .Klaas,. S.J. ., 253, PAMPHLET NOTICES ,:~ . .-. . OUR LADY;S PARENTS Francis L. Filas, S.J .~ . .OUR' CONTRIBUTORg / . ' ~ . ~ ~- 270 QUEST~IO,N~ AND ANSWERS~. , 35. Blessed Ashes and Things Put in Sacrar~um- " (.' 271° ~ 36. Jurisdiction o~Mother Generiil and ,Local~Superior . ~7. Bo~y of Deceased Sister in Community Chapel . 38. Permission to Close Religious House . . . . . : . 272 ~ 39.~ Rosaries of String for fi.rmed Forces Only. .° . . ,: . . .o .~273 ~40.~Vows and Status of Reliigious.with Mental Disorder .-. '2_.73) ,41. Anticipating Date of Perpetual Vows .- . : .' .-'. , 275 42. ,Su.pterior's Obligation t6 Pro¢ide Monthly Conference COMMUNICATIONS ' ' ~ " ~77 ' ~BOOK 'REVIEWS~ :7 ' ~A'Dynamic World Order; That You May Live: Too S~nall a Wo-rld: The Hope of the.Har4es~; The Nu'rse:. Handmaid of the DivineoPhysi-." _ ¢ian;.Enjoying the NeW Testament . ~: . . . ' 28.2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1945. Vol.IV, No. "4. Publishdd-bi- 'monthly: January, March.May, July,S¢ptemb,er, ahd N0ve~ber at the College Press. 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St.'Mary's College, St., Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical appr.obation.' Entered as second clas~ matter January 15 1942'; at the Post Office, Topeka,,~Kansas, "under the act bf March 3, 1879: ' "~ Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis. S.J., G~ ~ugustine Ellard, oS.J., Gerald Keily~ S.J. Editorial Secretary;: Alfred F, Schneider, S~J.2 Copyright, 1945, by'Adam C. Ellis. .Permission is hereby granted'for quotations of, reasonable length, provided due credit be given this r~view an'd the autt~'b~. Subscription pride: 2 dollars a ~'ear. ~ ~ Pilnted in U: S. A. Before writing to'us, please consult notice on Inside fiack cover. G. Augustine Ellard, S.,J. AN EFFECT of sanctifying grace that does not seem to get as much mention and consideration as it deserves is the beauty that it possesses .and adds to the soul. And yet beauty, with truth and goodness, is the object of the principal aspirations of every spirit. Moreover, beauty is an important element,in the value of grace. A clearer .knowledge of the beauty of grace should lead to a highe~ appreciation of it and a more eager desire for it. I. One could hardly hope in the present stage of the evolution of esthetic.philosophy to propose a for.mal defini-tion of beauty that would be generally acceptable. For-tunately, it is one of those things of which nearly every-body feels that he has a fairly satisfactory empirical notion, even though he could not set it forth in words. Among the definitions of beauty current among those who have studied the matter in the light of Aristotellan br Thomistic philosophy .we find : "the spl~ndor of truth" (attributed to Plato); "the splendor of order" (St. Augustine); "the effulgence of form in material elements definiti~ly limited and proportioned, ok in different forces or actions" (S~. Thomas); "the goodness of a thing inasmuch as when known .by the mind it gives delight" (Kleiltgen, [3ung-mann); and "the perfettion of a thing that makes it pleasing to behold" (Gietmann). Some would place beauty in truth, others in the goodness of a thing, arid still others in both truth and goodness together . Even when it ¯ is embodied in material objects, the perception of it i~ essentia!ly spiritual: animals give no evidence of,having a sense of the beautiful. 217 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Reoietu for~ Religidus Beauty may be either physical or moral. !V~oral beauty is found only:iiri th~ character or moral activity of persons; when one's characte,.r or action,i~ such that the very sight or thought of it ~tit~S delight and admiration, then it is morally.beautiful. Many insta.n.ces of heroism are examples :of it." All 6thOr beauty is physical. This may be material o~ sigiritual. About the material 'ther~ will be rio difficulty, and about the spiritual there need be none. It is simply that beauty which belongs to spirits, as material beauty belongs to visible things. To see and appreciate it properly is poss!ble, of course, only to ~pi~its themselves; but wecan have an analogous knowledge and enjoyment of it. It is very evident that angels must perceive one another and that that perception, of itself, must bring pleasure, in fact, great ¯ pleasure, betause prest~mably the beauty of angels is pro-poi: tionate to. their general ~perfection. Therefore one (good) angel viewing another and finding him pleasant to behold would be ~xperiencing What is meant by physical ~spiritual beauty. 'The angels now in heaven possess, as a matter of fact over and above the beauty that follows their angelic nature, the supernatural beauty of grace. Being g.ood, they exhibit also, of course, moral beauty. Simi-larly, human souls or spirits now i'n heaven and adorned with grace give pleasure to all who see them, both by reason of the natural perfection .and beauty of the. human spirit and because of the love!iness of their grace. It is well to¯note that to please ordelight, the. beautiful need not actfially be seen. It is sufficient that it can be seen, or hgs" been°seen, or can be ~epresented in quasi.-vision before the mind, A young man 'enjoys his belov.ed's beaut~, even when she isabsent: A living human soul in graOe is an object of actuAland full complacence to ~whoever sees it;. therefore c~rtainly to God, most probably to one's guardian angel, and perhaps to all the blessed. In heaven its beauty 218 duly, 1945 GRACE AND BEAUTY will add to the joys of all the angels and saints. Meanwhile there can be great satisfaction in really bein~l beautiful, though that beauty be all hidden.within, and in expecting the future manifestation of it. II. Other works:of God are beautiful; therefore, grace. is beautiful. In view of the extension.of beautyih God's works and the intensity of it in His greater creatures; this argu, ment from induction or analogy, seems to be legitimate. "The firmament on high is his beauty, the beauty of heaven with its glorious shew . The glory of the stars is the beauty-of heaven; the Lord enlighteneth the world on high . Look upon the rainbow and bless him that made it: it is very beautiful in its brightness." (Ecclesiasticus 13 : 1, 10, 12.) If the Supreme Artist has produced beauty so widely, and so profusely throughout His creationm -in natural scenery, inthe forms of crytallization, in flowers, in birds, in the human form and face, and in the angelic nature--it is not likely that He l'ias d~nied a high degree of it to wha.t is in a very true sense one of the greatest of all His productio.ns, namely, sanctifying grace. III. A consideration of the nature of grace confirms the conclusion indicated by induction or analogy. Sanctifying grace is essentially a participation in the divine nature, .that is, in what is in God the fundamental principle of the activity that i~s most characteristic of Him, namely, the direct intuition of infinite truth. Now God Himself must be supremely beautiful. He is the first author of all that is beautiful in His universe, in inanimate scenery, in the stars of the heavens, in the vegetative k.ingdom,. in animals, in men and women, and in the angels. "Let them [men] observing the works of the Creator know how' much the Lord of .them is more beautiful than they: for the first author, of beauty made all tho~e things . For by the greatness of the beauty, and of the creatures, the Creator of 219 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review fo~'" Religious them may be seen, so as to be known thereby." (Wisdom 13: 3, "5.) Moreoverall the beauties of human art are ultimately.His creations. As a matter of fact God is not only the origin of all beauty; He is Beauty Itself, absolute, infinite, ineffable beauty, without the slightest admixture of anything that could detract from it. That beauty must be infinite, because the~being, truth, and goodness upon which it is founded are immeasurable. Though all perfec-tions are there, they are unified in the highest degree in abso-lute simplicity, and thus they. exist in the most admirable harmony. God is Hisown uialimited light, brightness, and brilliance. Long ago St. Augustine wrote of the beauty of God: "Consider the whole universe; the,heavens, the earth, the sea, all that is in heaveh or on earth or in the sea: how beau-tiful, how marvelous, how well and wisely arranged it al! is! Do these things move.you? Of course.they move you. Why? Because they are.beautiful. What then of Him. who made them? You would be stunned, I tt'iink, if you saw the beauty of the angels. What therefore of the Creator of tt~e Angels?" ($erm. 19, n.5: ML. 38, 136.) And St. Basil the Great: "Is there anything, I ask, more wonderful than the divine beauty? . .What thought is.there more delightful and pleasant than the magnifice ,rice of God? ¯. Altogether ineffable and indescribable is the brilliance of the divine beauty. Speech cannot make it known, nor ear receive it. Even though you should, think of the splendors of the morning star, the brightness of .the moon, or the light of the sun, everything beside the glory of that beauty. is insignificant and dark, and compared with the true light .is more distant from it than the depth of a gloomy and moonless night from the clearest noonday sun." (Reg. Fus. Tract.; Inteccog. 2, n. 1; MG. 31, 910.) Comprehensively to knox~T the magnitude and fascina£ 220 tibn of Beauty Itself and the enrapturing~effect ofbeholding it is pos~ibl'e only to one of the Bli~ssed Trinity. To.have some proper conception of itand how it feels subjectivdly to. see it is: possible only to those who have experienced the beatific vision, and even they c~uld not express itin human lariguage. Surely it is most significant that, giventhe pres-ent superna~u'ral order oi~ things, nothing on earth or in heaven except the .sight of God can quite satisfy, and quiet the' aspirations of the human spirit. But the sight of infinite truth, goodhess, and beauty is sufficient to beatify even the. divine spirit. Even though the beauty of God must remain concealed from us while we are burdened with the veils of mortality, it is so great that for some contemplatives it can ¯ become a source of the most exquisite delight and ecstasy and a most potent stimulus to di~'ine love. ~, Now sanctifying grace, being a participation oi: the divine nature~ and hence of the divine beauty,' must itself be correspondingly beautiful. Or, in other terms, grace is an assimilation to the divine nature and a resemblarice to it, and must slSar'e in its beauty as a'copy partakes of the excel-lence of a masterpiece. With the sonship to God which grace confer~ it must also brihg something of the paternal lineaments and features. -_,~ St. Cyril of ~Alexandria, speaking of the effect 6f grace, wrote: ".Is it not the Spirit thi~t carves the divine image upon us and like a seal imprints upon us a beauty su.perior to any in the world?" (Dial. 7 De Trin., p. 683.) .Again: "All of us who have :believed and become c6nforrned to God have been made, through union with the Son and the Holy Spirit, paiticipants of.thee divine nature, not only in name but in very reality in as much as we have been glori-fied with a beauty that is above all creation. For Christ is fashioned in us.in a manner that is indescribable, not as one 6feature in another, but as God in created nature in.that He 221 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Revieu~ for Religious has transformed our created nature through the Holy Spi.rit into His likeness and raised us to a dignity surpassing that. of all creatures." (De Trin. L. 4.) "The Spirit does not, like a painter, reproduce the divine substance in us as if He were extraneous to it, nor does He in .this way bring us to the likeness of God: rather He Himself who is God and pro-ceeds from God is .invisibly impressed upon the hearts of those wh6 receive Him like a seal upon wax, through com-munion and likeness to Himself, again painting our nature with the beauty of its original model and manifesting the divine image in man." (Tfiesaur., MG. 75, 609:) St. Basil: "Man was made according to the image and likeness of God, but sin destroyed the beauty of that image ¯. Let us return to the original grace from which we were ~alienated by sin. And let us beautify ourselves in the like-ness of God." (Serroo Ascet., MG., 31, 869.) Similarly St. Ambrose: "You have been painted there-fore, O man, and painted by the Lord thy God, You have a good artist and painter; do not. spoil the good painting, resplendent, not with color, but with the truth; expressed not~ with wax, but with grace," (Hex. VI, 47.) And St. Augustine: "Human nattire, When it is justified by its Creato~r, is changed from ugliness and deformii:y into a lovely and beautiful form" (De Trin. XV, c. 8, n. 14). IV, Grace also gives one a share in the beauty of Christ. Among the three divine persons of the Blessed Trinity .bea'uty is appropriatedparticularly to the Word, as "being the flashing-forth of" the Father's "glory, and the very .expression of his being" (Hebrews 1:3)i, or, in Knox's yersion, "who is the radianc~ of his Father's splendour, and the full expression of his being~" Even the created beauty of the humanity of Christ, natural and supernatural, physical and¯ moral, material andspiritual, is very great indeed and an object of the keenest delight to all the angels 222 Jul~, 1945 GRACE ,~NI~ BEAUTY and saints who see it. The Church in her liturgy often proclaims that .beauty: "Thou art beautiful above the sons of men: grace is poured abroad in thy lips . With thy comeliness and thy beauty set out, proceed p~osperously, and reign." (Psalm 44:3-.5.) Commenting on this passage St. Augustine. wrote: ',He is beautiful as God, the Word with the Father; He is beautiful i~ the womb .of the Virgin, where He assumed human_ity and did not lose His divinity.; He is beautiful as .a new-born babe and silent Word (infar~s Verbum) . Beautiful therefore in heaven, beautiful~ on on the earth; . beautiful .in His miracle~, beautiful in the scourging; beautiful while callii~g to life,~ and beautiful in not caring about death; beautiful as He lays down His life,.and beautiful in taking it back: beautiful on t.he. cross, beautiful in the sepulcher, beautiful in heaven . Let not, the imperfections of this body turn your eyes away from the splendor of His beauty. (In Psalm. 44, 3.) Clement of Alexandria thus extolls the.attractiveness of Christ: "Our Savior surpasses all human nature. Indeed He is so beautiful that ' He ' alone deserves to be loved b31 us, if we desire true beauty; for He was the truelight." (St~r,om. L. 2, c. 5.) ' . ~ All who receive sanctifying, grace are adorned after the model of Ch~:ist: "For all Of you who were bapt.i~zed into Christ, have pu~ on Christ" (Gala.tinny3:27):1 "My children witt~ whom I am again in tra.~ai.l,~ until Christ be formed in you" (Ibid. 4: 19) : "Those Whom he hath fore-known, them he hath predestined to bear a nature in the ima~ge of his Son's, that he should be first-born among many brethren" (Romans 8:i9). The Fathers of the Church like to emphasize the 1New Testament texts quoted in this article are from the Westminster Edition. 223 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD Retffeu~ for Religious ?esemblance even in appearance between Christ and Chris-tians., Thus St. Cyril.of Alexandria writes: "Nor should we be sons by. adopti.on and inlikeness if there were no real and true son; to His form we are fashioned; to beilike Him we are transformed with a certain art and grace" (Tbesaur. MG., 75, 526). "One is molded to become a son of God according to an excellent model . This beauty is spiritual. ~ By participation in the Holy Spirit they ar~ fashioned in Christ as it were, according to Him as a model . Christ is indeed formed in us, the Holy Spirit impres.sing upon us a certain figurel ~hrough holi-ness and jusgice." (In Isaiarn; IV, II; MG.; 70, 936.) Sim!larly St. Gregory'Nazianzene writes: "Since the day -when y'ou were changed by baptism, all your old features have disappeared, .and one.f°rm l~as been imlSressed upon you all, namely, that of Christ" (Or. 40 In Sancta Lurn., n. 27). V. According to the analysis of the beautiful made by St. Thomas., and followed by many Catholik savants, there are three chief elements that concur to make a thing ¯ beautiful;- integrity, harmony, and brightness. Evidently integrity or completeness, in all parts is neces~'.~y. A person who has lost, say, an arm or a leg would ~:i~ly be a candidate for a beauty prize, nor could a buil'd~.~bf w.,,.hich some integral part has been destroyed exemplify architec~,ural beauty. It is deaf too that .har-mony, taken.in~;. ,,a~.~bgr,~o a,_d sense so as to include symmetry, proportion,, oraer, aria in general proper agreement, is required. All the different components that enter into the constitution of a thing ~bat has beauty~for instance, a cathedral~must have appr6priate size, mutually sui~ one ~nother, be suitably arranged, and all in all so fit together into one.coherent whole as really to mak~ a unit and con-vey .a unified impressioia. Order in some sense is so essential 224 dul~t,.1945 . GRACE AND BEAUTY to beauty that disorder and ugliness are almost synony-mous. = It may be noticed in passing that the name "cos-mos" for the uni~rerse as an ordered system of ,things and th~ term "cosmetics," the art of improving ,:feminine beauty, both come from the same old Greek word for "order." ¯ There is an order that we may call static; it is illus-trated, ¯ for example, in the disposition of an artistically planned pai'b]ti.ng 0r building. Dynamic order is found wherever different movements or actions are subordinated to one purpose: for instance, in the.mecbanlsm of an auto-mobile or in the multitudinous movements of an orches-tra. Order is in a peculiar sense the offspring of intelli-gence; and wherever it is found'and in.whatever degree, it gives satisfaction to the mind that p~rceives it. Though variety is said' to please, no great degree of it is necessary if there be sufficient'richness of content,' as, for example, in the finest silks or velvets, similarly certain single colors and tones, if they be sufficiently pure,, rich, and clear, seem t9 be beautiful. '~The e~y,,e admireth at the beauty of the whiteness thereof tsnow] (Ecclesiasticus 43:20). ~. , The third elen~ent required for the beautiful °is,!bright-heSS. Perfection of being, which is otherwise ~ibl~ to delight one who simply considers it, can hardl,y rfiake much of an impression on one who does not se~ it iclearly. Relat.ively to us, therefore, at least, a ~certain clari~ty of presentation is necessary. J,udged by these three criteria., namely, integrity, har-mony, and brightness;.grace has a right to be called beau-tiful. That it possesses integrity, or in other words that it has all that pertains to its perfection, may be inferred from its spirituality, and also from the fact that it is a creation of the .Divine Artist exclusively. He could not leave one. of 'the highest and noblest of His works incomplete nor 225 G, AUGUSTINE ELLARD Review for Religious inferior in appearance. There is an admirable harmony or order about sanc-tifying grace. To begin with, it sets a person in just the right essential_supernatural' relatiori to God, and thus, :at ~least indirectly, with respect to all other persons and things. Grace is alsoa prindple of order within a man himself inasmuch as it is a source 0f supernatural moral, order and propriety, and hence of .beauty, in all his con-duct. Moreover sanctifyin~ gr.ace'possesses order within itself in the sense that it brings with itself and keeps in proportion all the infused moral virtues and the gifts of the Holy Spirit. All these taken together constitute the supernatural organism, the anatomical basis, so to speak, of the supernatural life, and this organism must have a proportion and symmetry and harmony equal to its gen-. eral excellence. Being spiritual, it must be superior to whatever is material; being of itself immortal and incor- ~uptible,,its beauty should be corr.espondingly great and lovely. Not only this, but since it is supernatural, its attractiveness should be higher 'and better than merely natural spiritual beauty. Oftentimes one of the principal sources of,the satisfaction found in the esthetic contempla-fion of works of beauty is the perception df how the artist has really reached or approached the ideal which was evidently before his mind. In grace, Which is a super-natural likeness of the divinity_---in fact the highest pos-sible likeness of it---~.the in'tended correspondence between the model or ideal and the real must be perfe.ct and com-plete since God Himself is the artist who ~produces it. That grace possesses brightness and adds. a certain light to the soul that it adorns is.abundantly evident from the fact that in all the literature on grace, whether ancient or modern,, light is one of the analogues most commonly used to explain it. Thus the Catechism of the Council of Trent 226 dul~t, 1945 GRACE AND BEAUTY says that grace is "a certain splendor and light, which blots out all.the stains of our souls and makes thos~ souls them- . selves more beautiful and splendid'.' (Or: Balatisrn, 50). Grace, therefore, has its own spir.itual and supernatural ¯ integrity, harm.ony, and brightness, and as such is beautiful or fair to behold. ¯ VI. Beauty as ~an effect of grace was a favorite theme with St. ¯Bonaventure. He liked to conceive grace as making one a sort of spouse of God. Hence it was natural for St, Bonaventure to emphasize the adornment that grace confers and that high and special kind of beauty' which becomes a spouse of God. It makes one so attrac-tive and lovely in the sight of God that one become.s a fit object of divine complacence. "The .king shall greatly desire thy beauty: for he is the Lord thy God, and him they shall adore" (Psalm 44:12). "How beautiful art thou, and how comely, my dearest, in delights" (Canticle of Canticles 7: 6). VII. Among the lekser eventual effects of grace will be the resurrection and the beauty of the glorified body. "Then 'shall the just.shine forth a.s the sun' in the king-dom of their Father" (Matthew 13:43). "The Lord 3esus 'Christ. will tr~lnsform the body of our lowliness, that it may be one with the body of his glory, by the force of that power whereby he is able tb subject all things to himself" (Philippians 3:21). The physical beauty of the glorified body will be yer~ great indeed, even in the case of those in whom it will be least, for instance, in the bodies of b~ptized infants who entered paradise with the lowest measure of grace, or in those sinners or converts who barely squeezed in fit the last moment. "There are heavenly bodies and earthly bodies; but the glory of the heavenly is different from that of the earthly'" (I Corinthians 15:40). Oftentimes, 227 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD 'R~vieu~ [or Religious if not too often, mortal human beauty is enough to enchant and transport men.It is the product of a merely natural process or of the cosmetician's art. Immortal human beauty Will be the creation of the Infinite Artist Himself and such' as befits the final and crowning state of His uni~rerse. The human beauty that we see here is o. nly.too evanescent; celeso tial~ human beauty will be eternal,, forever adding to the delight of all who behold it. Human beauty in this life is granted indiscriminately to the good, bad, and.indifferent. with the advantage rather in favor of the indifferent or bad. -at least because they are more gi.ven to cultivating it. Glorio fled b~au~y is~ reserved for God's. own elect and favorites. Beaut.y here .issuch as becomes this vale of tears; beauty there must be great enough to harmonize with the mag-nificence of the ~elestial mansions and theexcellence of the" persons who form the celestial society. The least beautiful glorified body should be at the minimum, it would seem, incomparably more.lovely than the. most beautiful body not yet glorified. .'What then of the most beautiful men and women in heaven? The personal physical beauty, not only the spiritual, but particularly now that of the glorified bodies of the ~lect, will, like the beatific vision itself, be proportion~ate to~ ~the. amount of grace with which they entered heaven. "There is the ~!ory o~ the sun, and the glory of the moon, and the'glory of the star~; for star differeth from star in glo,ry. And so it is with the resurrection of the dead."" (I Corinthians. 15: 41, 42.) "In the final state such will be the subjection'of t.hebody to the soul that even the quality of the body will. follow the excelience of the mind: whence according to the different degrees of merit, one soul will be more Worthy than another and one body more glorious, than another" (St. Thomas, In II Dist. 21, q. 2, a. 1). VIII. The practical conclusion from all these consid-. 228 GRACE AND BE/~UTY erations is that one who desires to possess the optimum quality and the maximum quantity of beauty, natural and supernatural, physical and moral, spiritual, and b6dily, who wishes to let the greatest number of the best persons enjoy.it, and who would retain all that beauty for the !onges.t time, should devote oneself to accumulating the highest possible measure ofsanctifying grace. Moreover, the more grace one has, the keener will be one's Vision and fruition of the infinite beaugy of God Himself and of all the finite beauty, whether in persons or things, in heaven and throughout the whole universe, and that eternally. ENEMIES OF FAITH The enemies of faith are tw, o and .they are closely related to each othe, r, sin and worldliness, All sin but especially habits of sin obscure spiritual v~sion: make it hard for the mind to see God's full truth. Sin is a thing of darkness, and it loves the darkness to hide its sham~. Worldliness, however, is perhaps the greater enemy of a living faith because more common, more plausible, more insidious seeing that its manifestations are not'always obviously sinful. Worldliness is!a cast of mind and a habit of will that ignore divine adoption: the blight of a naturalism that vitiates one's appraisals, one's likes and dislikes, all of one's habits of life as though one.~were not a son of God. Gradu-ally but surely does it extinguiih the ligl-it bf th~ new knowledge to end in darkness and sin "and disrelish for prayer and the beautiful realities of God.--F. X. MCMENAMY, S.J., in Alter Christus. 229 ' Walter J. Ong, S.J.- MANY religious, sensing beneath the writings of John Henry,Cardinal Newman a character sympathetic to their way of 1if,e, must have asked thdmselves: Why did Newman not become a religious? In this centenary year of his conversion, many will recall that for some time after Newman was received into the Church'on October 9, 1845~ heithought seriously about the religious life as a vocation for himself and for others of the group of Anglicans who came into the Church with him. ~ In a .sense, he finally' decided both for and against the religious state. A year and ~ half after his conversion, he chos,e, in the life devised by St, Philip Neri for his Ora-torians, a place for himself half-way between that of the religious and~that of the diocesan priest. For members of an Oratory of St. Philip Neri are priests, and assisting lay brothers, who live under obedience in a ~ommunity. Never-theless, they are not religious, for they live thus without public vows. The Oratorian community, compared to a religious community,.ii thus very !oosely knit. Each mem-ber in great part provides for his own material needs out of his own resources, and each is free to leave should he wish to do so. Why. did. Newman settle upon this kind of life? Appeal of Religious Life? Was it because the religious life did not at all. appeal ,to him? Some might suspect this. Indeed, owith all the "230 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE writing there is about Newman', it would not .be surprising if ~omeone who likes to spade around in the subconscious has turned up a theory that Newman did not become a religious because the re.ligious life demanded too much self-abnegation. Perhaps someone has. Int~res.ting and even amusing texts could be quoted to support the theory. Let us quote a few. Reactions to Religious Observance? In 1846, the year after their conversion, and before their ordination to the priesthood, .Newman and his fellow-convert Ambrose St. John were to go to Rome, where they hoped to mature some definite plans for their future activity in the Church. At Rome they.would s.tay at the Co.llegio di Propaganda, a seminary conducted by theRoman Con-gregation of the Propagation of-the Faith. In this.semi-nary,, or. college, studies were made by many of tbose destined for the priesthood in missionary countries, among which countries England, like America, was classed ~at the time. From a former stud_ent. 'at the Collegio, a Dr. Ferguson, Newman had wormed out an advance description of the life there.'His letter to St. John reporting wh~t Dr. Ferguson b, ad to say s.bows interesting reactions to matters touching the religious life: Every quarter of an hour has its work and is measured-out by rule. It i~ a Jesuit retreat continued through the year. You get .up at half past five, having slept (by compulsion) seven and a half hours, at quarter to six you run into the:passage and kneel down for the Angelus. Then you finish your dressing. At six you begin to meditate--the prefect going up' and down and seeing you are at your work. Three mihutes off the 1half hour a bell rings for the col-loquium. At the half hour (hal'f past six) mass--which every ond attends in surplice. Seven breakfast, some bread and some milk and (I think) coffee. Then follow schools--at half past e1~ven dinner and so on. A dompulsory walk for.an hour and a half in the course 231 Reoieto for Religious of the day.x Newman calls' attention to some details closely related to common life: Recreation an hour after dinner and supper--but all recreate together ~--no private confabs. In like manner no .one must enter any other .person's room. (Corollary. It is no good two'friends going to Propaganda.) . Further, your letters are all opened, and you put the letters you. write into the Rector's hand. To continue--you must not have any." pocket money . "Then there is no good," I asked, '"in taking money." "No," said Dr. F., "none at all." Next, you may not have clothes.of your own--the RectOr takes away coat, trousers, shirts, stockings, ~c. ~c. and gives you some of the Propaganda's. Although the Collegio was run to train not religious but diocesan priests, the details which Newman here singles out for comment includ~ many which remain more or less a permanent part ~)f the religious life~ From the rueful tone of Newman's letter, one might gather that such details 'are listed because they show where the shoe pinched the most unbeara,bly. Little wonder, one would say, that Newman did not' become a religious. The life plainly did not at all appeal to him.' "They give you two cassocks," he goes on, "an old one and a new one." (Newman's own italics). ' "To complete it, he [Dr. Ferguson] said that I should be kept there three years and that I shouid have to read Per- .rone." Reading Perrone seems to have been ~ associated 'iri Dr. Ferguson's mind only with.feelings of the greatest ter-. ror. Perrone, well-known Italian theologian, Was laterto be Newman's friend and champion. But now Newman passes over Perrone's name without comment, having asso- Ciated with the name nothing but the iinister overtones of xWilfrid Ward, The Life of John Henry Cardinal Netoroan (New York: Longmans, Green and Co., 1913), I, 132. All quotations from this work are with the kind permission of. the publishers. . 232 , Ju1~,1945 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE Dr. Ferguson's woeful recollections. "Meanwhile . . . we heard that at Rome . . . 'apart:. ments' have been'got ready at Propaganda for Dr. Wiseman and' me." Newman must have shuddered as he~ wrote "apartments": at least he put~ the word in quotes. "The only allowanc~ I extracted from Dr. Ferguson," be continues, "was that you might bare private papers in your writing desk . Dr. F. said one thing was provided gratis--snuff ad libitum and I should be allowed to take a snuffbox." In the event, Newman was not subjected to the rules here described for the young seminarians. According .to our projected theory, this should pro.re that he had no stomach for any life restrained by strict rule. His.sub-conscious repugnance to restraint asserted itself here, and be somehow automatically edged his way around even temporary regular observance--this enterprising theory would hold. Other evidence could be scraped up. ofit of " Newman's letters to give body to such proof. For instance, shortly after his conversion he writes of a visit just paid to the Catholic college at Oscott:. ChaHes Woodmason and I . . . arrived here on the fe.Xstival of St. Cecilia . We found the passage crowded and no servants to answer the bell, and bad to poke in as we might, leaving our 1Bggage at the entrance. I say they perhaps were" scandalized, for they have the most absurd notions about us. I think they fancy I never eat, and' I have just lost a good dinner in.consequence. After returning from Birmingham walking and hungry, I literally have had to pick up a crust from the floor left at breakfast and eat it,. from shame at asking again and again for fhings.2 Does this hankering for servants 'and victuals Show the spirit of abnegation which the re!ig~ous life demands? And, the letter gets worse instead of better: 2lbid., I, 103-104. 233 WALTER J. ONG Review for Roligious . Wall, we were ushered into the boys' dining room--the orches-tra at the end, and the table~ plentifully laden,for all hearers with cake and (pro pudor)" punch~a very sensible w.ay of hearing mu.sic. They certainly were scandalized at my d~tecting the pu.nch--for they said again and again that it was made of lemon and sugar. All i~can say is that ours.at the high table was ~emarkably stiff,.and that I was obliged to dilute it to twice or thrice i~s quantity with water. More of this kind of thing ~ould be dug from New-man's correspondence, and one could turn it all to account to explain quite ~eadily Newman's turning away from the religious state. His unconscious self had said from the first, "Don't be a religious,'.' adding with standard subconscious ¯ hypocrisy, "but talk sometimes about the religious life So you'll get the credit for being interested in it." Thus New-man's attraction, to the religious state was sham--the the-ory Would conclude. A good conclusion, if only it 'were true. Such a con-clusion, hoWever, would not be founded on fact, but rather on a wild misinterpretation of some of Newman's pleasant-ries. Indeed, the last passage just quoted hints that people bad associated with Newman, not. mere talk, but definite habits of abstemiousness quite in accord with the little sac-rifices demanded by religious life. Newman's Self-Abnegation. )ks.a matter of fact, Newman had such habit~. An appetite for quite real s~lf-abnega~ion in .imitation of Christ had worked itself out very practically in Newman's lifd even before he entered the Catholic Church. In 1842 he had retired from Oxford to the neighboring town of Littlemore, where he gathered some of his Oxford friends. Here he became a Catholic 'and here he continued to live until February,. 1846. We have an account of the place of retreat at Littlemore in a letter in the Tablet shortly after Newman's conversion written by Father Dominic, the 234 July, 1945 NEWMAN ~AND THE',RELIGIOUS LIFE Italian Passionist who received him into the Church. "Littlemore," Father Dominic explains, is a village about :two or three miles from Oxford. It presents nothing charming in its aspect or situation, but is placed in a low, flat country; it exhibits no delightful vill.as, nor agreeable Woods and meadows, but one u~nvafi~d uniform appeara.nce, rather dull than pleasant. In the midst of this village we meet with a building, which has'more the look of a barn than a dwelling:house; and in reality, I think it formerly was a barn. This unsightly.building is "divided by a number of walls, so as to forni so many little cells: and it is So low that you might almost' touch the roof with'your hand. In the interior );ou will find t.h.e most beautiful specimen of patri-archal simplicity and gospel i~overky.8 The Italian was iensitive to the vagaries of the English weather and impressed by the sombrene.ss ofEngland's dark, damp days. Failure to take measures against such conditions was to him a sign of real mortification: To pass from one cell to another, you must go through a little out-side corridor, covered iladeed with tiles, but opeln to all inclemencies of the weather. At the end of this corridor, you find a small dark room,'whi.ch has served as an oratory. The furnishings and diet impressed him most of all. In the cells nothing is to be seen but poverty and simplicity-~bare walls, floors composed' of a few rough bricks, without carpet, a straw bed, one or two chairs, and a few books, this comprises the whole furniture ! !-! The refectory and kitchen are in the same style, all very small and v.ery poor. From this description one may easily guess what sort of diet was used at table: no delicacies, no wine, no .ale.,'no liquors, but seldom meat; all breathing an .air of the strictesk poverty, such I have never witnessed in any religious house in Italy. or France, or in any other.country,where I have been. A C~ipuchin monastery would appear a great palace when compared with Little-more. It is the "best geniuses of the Ang!ican. Church" who. have retired, to this house, Father Dominic goes on, and have lived there--persons "of birth, learning, and pie~ty,. Slbid.o I, 106,107. 235 WAETER 3. ONG Review [or Religiou~ who possessed, or at least might have possessed, the richest livings and fellowships which the Church of England can bestow." And yet it had been said that their living as they had at Littlemore was due to singularity and pride! "Those who entertain such an idea," the good father continues, "might in the same way calumniate our Blessed Saviour; his Apostles, and all the followers of the Gospel." Foroit was plain to any open-eyed observer that the life at Little-more was undertaken in imitation of Christ. The. ho!y and simple Italian priest, as Newman's biographer Wilfrid Ward calls Father Dominic, gets so excited at the blindness and malice of Newman's critics that he breaks into a regular, litany of puns: "O men, O English-men," he almost chants as he concludes his letter to the Tablet, hear the voice of Littlemore. Those wails bear testimony that the Catholic is.a little more than the Protestant Church, the soul a little more than the body, eternity a little more than the present time. Understand well this little more, and I am sure you "will do a little more for your eternal salvation. This is .apparently what made Newman, who was undoubtedly embarrassed by t.he good father's letter, remark that no one at Littlemore could read the letter with a grave face. Bu~ Newman does not contest the facts which Father Dominic had set down. Newman and the English Scbne Littlemore shows in some ways a .greater attraction to a life of self-abnegation and self-surrender than perhaps most religious exhibit before their novitiate. But Little-more provides us as well with the key to Newman's final decision against the religious life. For Littlemore was the place wh~re Newman retired to learn God's will in his regard, and there, were good signs.that the will of God called him elsewhere than to a r.eligious institute. 236 dulyo 1945 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE Had he been at the time of his conversion a young man, Newman might perhaps have entered a religious institute and let his life be shaped there, just as Gerard Manley Hop-kins was to do. Hopkins, an Oxford man like Newman and destined like, Newman to become a great figure in nineteenth-century literature, was converted at the 'age of twenty-two. But Newman. (who incidentally, was to be the one to receive Hopkins into the Chu.rch in 1866) was forty-four when he became a Catholic. He bad already cut himself a niche in English life. He had been the leader of a party which had split open the intellectual .world of Oxford and with it the Anglican Church; and, although the party had finally b~een .badly routed by the liberal Anglicans at the. time it lost many of its ,leaders to Rome, Newman's place in the Oxford movement had made him a marked man in England. And here we have the basic reason why New-man did not turn to. the religious state: he felt that his value to the Church, a value already fixed by his place in Eng-land's life, could not be best exploited the~e: ~ Being Taught God's Wilt .W.riting many years later to young Edmund Froude, who had rather precipitately made up his mind to be a religious, Newman sald, "I know you are a prudent boy, and I wish you gravely and continually to pray God, that you may. be taught His Will as regards you. For we must persevere in prayer, if we would learn it.''~ Newman him-self had had to persevere in prayer-to be taught God's will in his regard and this not only with regard to entering the true Church. For a year and a half after his conversion there was an interval of prayerful searching, as both New-man and his friends, eager to find what place God ,had marked out for them, felt their way about the edifice of' the 4Gordon-Huntington Harper, Cardinal Newman and William Froude, A Correspondence (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press. 1933), p. 169. ¯237 ~rALTE~ ,~. ONG ReOiew [or Reti~iou, s Church,'in which they Were at the same time.very much at home and strangely unconversant with many ordinary thifigs. They were at home because they were indeed in their Father's house, about whichthey, had been reading all their ~lives in the Scriptures and in patristic writings. But, how-ever much at home they felt, the fact was, their Father's house or no, they had never been in it before. Forthis rea-son Newman and Ambrose St. John went frorfi~England to Rome in 1846 to imp.rove their knowledge of the Church from the inside. It is a little amusing to see them cautiously smelling out different theological schools at Ro~e or still indulging in themselves something of the amazement of the benevblent Protestant who has just found thht the Cath-olic clergy are not such a bad lot after all. In this vein, Newman, en route to Rome, writes delight-edly from Langres in France to his friend Frederick Bowles that the French clergy are a merry, simple, affectionate set--some of them quite touchingly, kind and warm-hearted towards me, and only one complaining, as I think he did, of English heaviness (our stomachs were in fault) . M. La~ont is Very cheerful, hnd talks Latin well, which few of "the other clergy.do. The Dean does, and is a kind warmhearted person.5 During this time when he was gaining familiarity with the Church from inside her doors, Newman was in close contact with many religious-TDorninicans, Passionists, Jesuits, Franciscans, and others. He bad a Jesuit confessor at Rome. And Newman was certainly thinking of the various religious institutes in terms Of his usefulness in Christ's cause: "'It i~ ,one especial benefit in the Catholic ~burcb," he writes from Rome to Henry Wilberforc~, that a person's usefulness does not ~lepend on the accident of its .SWard, Life,~ I, 136. 23'8 ,lulg, ~94~ NEV~MAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LIFE being found out. There are so many ready-formed modes of'us~ful-hess, great institutions, and orders with great privileges and means, of operation, that he has but to unite himself to one of them, and it is as if Pope and Cardinals took him.up personhlly.° Newman adds a remark which shows that he was ~hinking of the religious life as a sort of r~fuge from pos-sible ecclesiastical honors: Since, I am in for it, I will add," what (as ~far as Io know) I have. never told to anY0ne--thai, before now; my prayers have been so earnest that I never might" have dignity or station, that, as they have been heard as regar.ds the English Church, I think their will be heard now also. They were~ No honors threatened for m~n)~ weary years; but rather failure and misunderstanding. Special Responsibilities But from the time of his conversion Newman was con-scious tl~at he might have "special responsibilities" which .would not'leave his choice of a State of,life entirely free. He was afraid that these responsibilities might not be discov-ered for him evenin Rome. "I can't tell as yet," he informs . Wilberforce in the same letter, what they will make of me here, or whether they will find me but. It is very difficult to get into the mind of a person like me, especially considering so few speak English . . . and I can say .so little in Italian. Newman and St. John had indeed picked up Italian only in their leisurely journey down through Italy to Rome picked it up not without some disaster, as when, mehning to tell a departing Italian acquaintance in Milan that he hoped to.see him in the winter., St. John blunHered confi~ dently, onto the word inferno for inverno and succeeded only "in leaving the startled Italian with the understanding that the English visitor hoped to see him s6on in hell. Newman was delighted at this occurrence, for St. John Olbid., I, 151. " ¯ 239 WALTER J, ONG Review [or Religious was the greater enthusiast for the language. But when they got to R6me arid Newman could pick his way only rather gingeriy through an Italian ~onversation, he fel'tthat he w~s greatly handicapped in his efforts to find his prope,r place within the Church. Newman wanted information and advice. But "what can people know of me?'" he goes on to Wilberforce, . I don't expect people will know me. The consequence will be, that, instead of returnihg with any special responsibilities upon .me, any special work to do, I Should on my return slink into some re~ady-formed plan of operation, and if I did not become a fi~iar or a Jesuit, I should go on hiamdrumming in some theological seminary or the like. Thus Newman felt that, /:or him; fitting into a ready-made plan might indeed be "'slinking" dodging the "spe-cial responsibility." In accordance with this line of thought, the conviction that he should not join a religious institute finally won out, as it had threatened to do from the first. He writes to Dalgair.ns from Rome on the last day of the year 1846: I have'the greatest fear I am bamboozling nays.elf when'I talk of an order: and that, just as Anglicans talk of being Catholics butdraw back when it comes to the pgint, so I, at my time of life, shall never feel able to give up property and take to new habits.7 But the repugnance to giving up property was no greater,. certainly, for Newman than for many who have embraced the religious life, and it was not this, repugnance which decided him in the course he took. He goes on: -Not that I should not do it [enter a religious institute], had I a clear call--but it is so difficult to know what a. clear call is. I do not know ~nough of the rule of the different ~ongregations to haste any opinion yet--and again I do not think I could, religiously, do any-thing that Dr. Wiseman disapproved. 71bid., I, 170. 240 July, 1945 NEWMAN AND THE RELIGIOUS LII::E Final Reasons for the Orator~t Even with this protestation of ignorance concerning the rules of religious institutes, Newman sbts down' at this time ¯ the reasons which were ultimately to d~termine--indeed, we[e already determining--his choice. In thinking of a. .regular life, he continues, a great difficulty . . . is my own previous history: When it comes upon me how late I am trying to serve the Church,the obvious ahswer is, Even saints, such as St. Augustine, St. Ignatius, did not begin in earnest till a late age. "Yes, but I am much older than ~hey." So then I go on to think and to trust that my past life may form a sort of aphorme [base of operations] and a ground of future usefulness. Having lived so long in Oxford, my name and person are known to a very great many people I do not know--so are my books--and I may have begun a workwhich I am,now to finishl Now the ques-tion is whether as a regular I do not at once cut off all this, as becoming a sort of instrument of others, and so clean beginning life again. As a Jesuit e.g. no one ~ould know that I was speaking my own words:" or was a continuation, as it. were, of my former self. Newman goes on to.set down a notion which he,had thought worthwhile ment.ioning to Bishop Wiseman, that he and his associates should be a group or college in Eng-land dependent on Propaganda, which still administered England in place of a regular hierarchy. "This," Newman concludes, "would not be inconsistent ~ith being Ora-torians." By the beginning of the year 1847 Newman and a group of his friends had fixed on the Oratory of St. Philip as their place in the Church--the place where prayer and common sense and the wishes of their eccclesiastical supe-riors made it plain that God wanted them. In the spring of t847 Newman, St. John, W. Goodenough Penny, J. D. Dalgairns, Robert Coffin, Richard Stantc~n, and F. S. Bowles began a brief novitiate at Rome, and in January of the following year the first English Oratorian ~ommunit~r 241 WALTER J. ONG began tO assemble at Birmingham under a rule adapted slightly to the demands of life in England. Newman's Choice and Prbvidence The event proved that Newman's calculations were {ralid, that his patient and' prayerful search had effectively laid his life in the hands of Providence. For it was to the best interests of Christ's Kingdom that Newman should remain preeminently an individual in the minds of the English people. The English never succeeded in under-standing Newman the Catholic. They would never even have tried to understand Newman the religious---the mem-ber of some weird and superstitious'posse of the Pope's. But with Newman the individual they could at least try to sympathize. And that is how Newman won his countrymen in his ,.Apologia pro Vita Sua, diverting the currents of feeling which swirled confusedly about him into channels friendly to the Church. In 1845 and 1846 and 1847 Newman could not see ahead to the Apologia, in which he was to l~iy bare the history of his religious convictions and jus-ti. fy his conversion to Catholicity. But in the Provi-dence of God, which calls some to one kind of life ai~d some to another, "disposing all things sweetly," he took the step in 1847. which made the Apologia possible and turned his life from a long series of failures into.a great spiritual suc-cess. Had he become a .religious, Newman would have had the same story to tell as he tells in the Apologia. But, as he shrewdly foresaw in 1846, no one would have belie~'ed that he was speaking his own words. In the Oratory of St. Philip, only loosely tied to his associates, he remained .in the popular mind Newman, the individual Englishman. That made" possible the work which God bad for him to do. 242 Why Does Father Ask Questions? Gerald Kelly, S.J. DURING the years of his seminary training,, the young priest-to'be is thoroughly instructed in the duties of those who go to confession anal is also made acquainted with some of the principal difficulties that his future, peni-tents might experience. ' This is as it should be, The priest should be able to help and sympathize with his penitents. But that is only one side of the picture. The confessor-. penitent relationship .is "mutual; and, particularly from the point of view of the penitent, it is, perhaps the most pro-f0u. ndly intimate relationship in the world. The penitent often reveals things to the confessor that he Would not dis-close to anyone, else, even his dearest friend.It seems logical, therefore, that the penitent ought to know something of the duties and problems of the confessor. Catholics do know, in.a rather vague way, something of the confessor's duties and difficulties. They know that he ~ears their sins as the ambassador of God and that he is bound by the most rigid and sacred secrecy possible. And they can readily understand that long hours in the confes-sional must be tiresome and must create a. spei:ial :difficulty with regard to the practice of such virtues as patience and kindness. But there are many things that they do not understand" and one of these seems to be the asking of questions by the.confessor.~ If we may judge from remarks heard in conversations about confession, we may conclude that penitents fall into three rather general classes with respect to being questionbd by the confessor. Some penitents rather like it because it 243 GERALD KELLY Reoieu~ for Religiou~ makes their own task easier and makes them more satisfied that their confession was good. Others definitely resent ~luestioning; they want to say what they have to say and then be allowed to go in peace. Still others neither like nor resent the questioning, but among these many wonder why questions are asked. All these classes of penitents--and of course all who teach catechism and instruct others how~ to go to confession--would very likely profit by-a knowledge of som'e of the reasons why the priest questions °~hem; and if they ~kriew these reasons they would very likely try to improve their methods of going to confession and thus avoid the necessity of questions. As a judge in the placeof Christ, the priest gives abso-lution to a worthily-disposed sinner and refuses absolu-tion to the sinner who is not sufficiently disposed. This is the most imporl)ant office of the confessor; but it is not his only.' function. He is also a pb~tsician., with the duty of healing the wounds of sin.and prescribing remedies for the "future; he is, to some extent~ a teacher, with the duty of instructing the ignorant; and he is the spiritual ~:atber to his penitent, with the° duty of giving paternal admonitions, counsel, affd e.ncouragement. In each and' all of these capacities, the priest might tinct reasons, for questioning pe.nitents. I" cannot discuss all these reasons here; but I should like to call attention to those tbat might be most common or most important. Sut~cien't Matter? For the instruction of. seminarians and for the help. of priests, moral theologians sometimes prepare ~¢hat thev call "case books"--that is, books of practical problems that ~the priest .is likely~ to encounter in.his ministry. To make the problem concrete, it is proposed in the form "of a ficti-tious incident. The student is to,decide what he would do 244 ,lul.q, 1945 \VllY DOES FATHER ASK QUES'I~IONS? under the circumstances; then he can check his solution with the solution offered by the author of the book. I can illustrate the first reason why a priest might ask questions by two s.ample Confessions taken from one of these case books. The first confession is that of a devout woman named Eudoxia. "I never detract others, as many women do," EuSoxia tells her confessor. "I have had to listen to men blaspheme, but.I told them I disapprove of their language. And I forgot to say my morning prayers several times.". That, according to the case book, is Eudoxia's entire confession. Not. a real sin is mentioned; and there is no concluding accusation of the sins of her past life. So far as absolution is concerned, Eudoxia might just as well be a newly baptized baby. But there is this l~rofound difference between Eudoxia and the baby" the baby has not sinned, whereas Eudoxia--unless she has the special privilege given to Our Lady--most certainly has committed some small sins, at least in he.r past life. The confessor's problem is to get her to confess a sin. "Perhaps you have told some small lies, or given way to impatience, or committed some other small sins; like sins of vanity?" the confessor asks Eudoxia. Most of us, I am sure, would call this an easy, safe approach, Tl~ere is" nothing particularly opprobrious about these .sins,.and even very good people occasionally fall into them. But not Eudoxia! "Far be it from me, Father," she replies firmly, ever to commit any of those sins!" With that we can leave Eudoxia to her confessor. He may try to explain to her how all people commit some small, sins, and that in her case it is just a matter of recog-nizing the sins and perhaps of examining her conscience more carefully. He might even indicate that she could get some valuable information abmit herself from. those "other 245 GERALD KELLY women" of whom she spoke in her confession or from those men who blasphemed in her presence. But he may not and cannot give absolution until he knows, there is something to absolve. Virtues, mere imperfections, involuntary acts, and doubtful sins (for example: "I accuse myself in so far asI amguilty") arenot sufficient matter for absolution;' and if a confessionconsists entirely of such things~ the con-fessor simply has to ask questions. ¯ Anbther sample confession, taken from the same case bbok, will illustrate the problem of insufficient matter under a slightly different aspect. This time the penitent is a man, .whose Latin name is best translated by Goodfellow. "'Father," runs Goodfellow's confession, "I haven't anything to confess except that I frequently had impure thoughts, and once, when I was traveling, I missed Mass on Sunday." That is the whole of Goodfellow's confession. He seems tO be a man of few deeds and fewer words. The prin-dipal difference between his and Eud0xia's confessions is that Eudoxia deaily confessed no sins, whereas Goodfellow may be confessing real sins. Every confessor learns, after some little ~xperience, that the accusation, "I had impure thoughts," does,not necessarily mean sin. It could mean that the penitent committed a mortal sin against purity_; but it could also mean that the penit.ent was merely tempted against purity--in other words, that the thoughts were entirely involuntary and not at all culpable. And the same may be said for Goodfellow's failure to hear Mass. Devout people sometimes confess "missing Mass," even when they had. a broken leg. They. do not really mean that they sinned; they merely feel better when they tell the confessor aboutoit. Goodfellow might be one of these devout people; perhaps his journey made it impossible to .hear Mass and lie knew this .was no sin. 246 dul~,IP45 WHY DOES FATHER ASK QUESTIONS? If Goodfellow's impure thoughts were involuntary and he had a good excuse or thought he had a good excuse 'for missing Mass, his confession is the same as Eudoxia's: it Gontains no real sin. Strictly speaking, things like this should not be confessed unless one wishes to get, some advice about them; but if the peni.tent does confess them, he should indicate .that they were not sins and should ' include in his confession some other matter for absolution. Otherwise the confessor must ask questions. Mortal or Venial Sin? Even if Goodfellow's impure thoughts were really sin-ful, there would still be a further problem for the confessor. He has to judge, in so far as this is reasonably possible, whether the penitent ~ommitted a venial sin.or a mortal sin: and this judgment is particularly difficult .to make with regard to such things as internal sins. As I said before, the accusation, "I had impure thoughts," may refer merely to a. temptation, in which case it would be no sin at all. But it could also mean that the penitent was guilty of some negli-gence in getting rid of impure thoughts--and this, though it would be a venial, sin, is a far cry from full consent and deliberate mortal sin. All of us learfied (or were supposed to learn) in cate-chism class that a full-fledged mortal sin must have three. elements: serious matter, sufficient ~eflection, and full con-sent of the will. In some types of[accusations a confessor can readily presume that all these elehaents were present;but in many other~ be must ask a question or tWO to determine whether the matter was really, serious or whether there was sufficient reflection and full consent. It is often very difficult, even after questioning, to.forma judgment regarding reflec-tion and consent; and it can happen that both the penitent and the confessor will have to leave the judgment to God. 247 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious But they are not supposed to "leave it to God" without r~aking some reasonable effort to decide it for themselves. I might mention here that the judgment concerning d~gree of guilt is not nearly so important as the judgment ~oncerning sufficiency of matter. A mistake concerning sufficient matter (for example: if the confessor judged that the confession contained real sin when not even a real venial sin was included in thea c'cusa"tion) would make the abso-lution invalid, even though the penitent, being in good faith, would commit no sin. But a mistake in judging the degree of guilt (for example: by judging a sin to be mortal when it was only venial, or vice vers)~) would not affect the validity of the absolution. The Law or: Integrity Reminiscing on catechism days will also bring to our minds the la~ of Christ that all mortal sins must be con-fessed according to species and number: in other words, the ekact kind of ~in committed andthe exact number of times each sin was committed, in so far as the penitent can tell these details, must be confessed. If the priest notices that this law is not being kept, he must prudently help the penitent by questions. The man who has committed mur-der does not satisfy this obligation by merel.y saying that he violated the Fifth Commandment, because there are many ways of violating that Commandment; and if he murdered his brother he would not satisfy his obligation by saying that he had killed a man, because homicide and fratricide are different kinds of sins. Finally, if we make the wild supposition that he bad seven brothers and that he mur-dered them all, he would not fulfill the law of integral con-fession by simply saying that he had murdered his brothers, because he "is Supposed to tell how many mortal sins he committed. 248 dulg, 1945 WHY DOES FATHER ASK QUESTIONS? I realize that homicide and fratricide are not the regular subject-matter for confessions. A Commandment that would probably touch the lives of ordinary people more ¯ closely would be the Sixth. And the confession of sins against this Commandment present~ special difficulties for both penitent and confessor. Penitents find the confession of sins of impurity embarrassing, and they would naturally 'like to keep their accusation as general as possible. Further-more. they often do not know just how to express them-selves, perhaps because they feel that they do not know the proper terms to be used in the confessional. As for the con-fessor, it is easily seen how he might find the questioning of penitents concerning sins of impurity a particularly delicate matter. The best solution to' the mutual embarrassment problem is to have the penitent try to keep the law of .integrity by confessing in his own words the kind of sin he committed. The confession should be brief and to the point. The confessor can hardly fail to understafid: and thus the need of questions, at least on this score, will be avoided. Of course, there are 15enitents who prefer to be questioned in this matter because they find it too difficult to express themselves without help. These penitents should at least mention their inability to the confessor and asl( for his assistance. True Contrition? A very important--in fact, an essential--judgment to be made by the confessor concerns the penitent's disposition. Practically speaking, tbis means that before giving absolu-tion the confessor must judge that his penitent has. true contrition, at least imperfect contrition. Absolution can-not be ~'alid if the penitent has not this minimum'disposi-sition. ¯Generally speaking, of course, the presumption is that 249 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious ¯ people do not confess their,sins unless they are sorry for them. But this presump.tion admits of many exceptions, as the moral theologiai~s are careful to point out. For instance, there is thecase of the penitent w, ho has been prac-t. ically forced to confession by wife, m0ther~ br teacher. It is true that even under such circumstances a good confession can be made; but there is a very real danger that such con-fessions might be insincere and that genuine contrit.ion and desire for absolution mil~ht be lacking. Another difficulty tha't might make for defective contrition is lack of instruc-tion. Great moralists like St. Alphonsus' Liguori point out that many simple people are a~t to get the habit of going to confession without really appreciating the need of contrition; especially with reference to purpose of amend-ment. In all.cases like the above, where the confessor has a reasonable .suspicion that-contrition is lacking or defective, he must ask a question or two. And besides these general difficulties there are certain sl~ecific problems concerning which he must be especially careful. Among these specific cases a m6st important one .is that of the penitent with a habit of serious sin. . The habitual sinner is apt to have a very vague and ineffective purpose of amendment. In. a general way he wants to break his habit, but he fails to decide on any deft-nite way of doing so. Strong habits are not broken in that way. One must.try to find the reason for his habit and try to remove that reason. The habit may be the result of his own weakness; and in this case he must take some means to strengthen himself. Or the habit may be connected with an occasion of sin; and in this event some very drastic measures may" halve to be taken, with regard to the occasion. These are basic points concerning habits of sin; yet the penitent may be ignorant of them and unconscious of his need for 250 J~,ty, 1945 Wl-iy DOES FATHER ASK QUESTIONS? help. And even if he feels his need very acutely, even if h~ is dreadfully discouraged--a not uncommon effect of habits of impurity---~ he may be too timid to ask for help; hence, if the .confessor does not takethe initiative, great harm may result. Even when a habitual sinner shows good Will his pr6b-lem is apt to be a'difficult one, because.it is not always easy to determine the exact ~ause of the trouble and to prescribe an immediately effective remedy. But the difficulty is much more serious when the penitent manifests a lack of sincer-ity: for example,, if he returns to the same confessor again and again without having made any attempt to follow advice, or if he goes from one confessor to another in order to find an "easy" one or to avoid the .need of giving an account of himself. Human nature is prone, to seek the ehsy ¯ way, and the very law of the Church which allows peni-tents a choice of confessors can be abused in such a way ~s to defeat the purpose of confession. Knowing these things. the confessor cannot omit questions when he notices or has a solid reason for suspecting that his peniten( is insincere. Other Reasons :or Questions. Thus far I have given the principal reasonswhy a con-lessor might feel obliged to ask questions: namely, to determine if there is sufficient matter foi absolution; to decide the degree of sinfulness; to help the penitent to make'- a complete, confession; to test the penitent,'s disposition; and to give needed advice and encouragement. Another very important reason is his desire to correct a false con-science. .These and similar purposes all fall within the scope of his sublime office as minister of the sacrament-- as judge, physiciah, teacher, and spiritual father. And to these we might add the simpler and more natural reasons, such as the fact that he does not hear what is.said, or that 25! GERALD KELLY . he is, not 'sure h.e catches "the penitent's meaning. And finally, the confessor is not exempt~from such difficulties as distractions and sleepiness. His mind may wander, and.his head may nod! If penitents were to keep all these things i'n mind, they would not resent questions, bfit they would try to make their confessions sufficiently clear and complete to allow the confessor tom keep his questions to the mini-mum. No doubt-it is true that occasionally unnecessary and even useless questions are asked: but this is'not the rule. Questioning penitents is seldom pleasant. Books Received ¯(From A~rll ZO to ,lune 20) " " LONGMANS~ GREEN. AND CO., INC., London, New York, Toronto. Enjoying the Neu~ Testament. By Margaret T. Monro. $2.50. THE BRUCE PUBLISHING CO. Milwaukee. A Dynamic 1~7or/.d Order. By Rt. Rev. Msgr. Donald~A. Mac Lean, A. M., S.T.L., Ph.D. $2.50. Weapons for Peace. By Thomas P. Neill. $2.50. CATECHETICAL GUILD, St. Paul, Minn. That You Mug Liue. By L. F. Cervantes, S.J. $2.00. SOCIETY OF SISTERS OF THE HOLY NAMES, Marylhurst, Oregon. The Hope of the Hart, est. By a-Sister of the Holy Names. $4.00 (plus postage). FREDERICK PusTET CO., INC., New~ York. Meditations on Eternitg for t~eligious. By the Venerable Mother Julienne Morell, O.P. $2.50. B. HERDER BOOK CO., St. Louis. A Retreat for Religious. By Rev. Andrew Green, O.S.B. $2.00. Christian Denominations. By Rev. Konrad Algermissen. $7.50. MOTHERHOUSE OF IMMACULATE CONCEPTION, Cdnvent Heights, New Britain, Conn. D,n'l~) Progress in Religious Virtues. By Rev. John Pitrus, S.T.D.'$1.60. 252 Perl:ecfion Is Union wish God Augustine Klaas, S.3. WE OFTEN HEAR it said.that spiritual perfection is union with God .and that~ the moreintimate this union is, the greater our perfection. The statement is true;but is there not frequently some haziness of mind as to just what is meant by. union With God and how it per-tains to perfection? Let .us examine variouskinds of union with God and their relation to spiritual perfectionl Hgposti~tic Union with God 'The closest union of our human nature with the divine is had in Jesus_Christ by rdason, of the hypostatic union, that is, the union of the divine and human natures of Christ in the Person of the Word. One Persofi, the Son of God, having a divine nature from all eternity, took to Himself a human nature like our very own from. the flesh of Mary, and by a viriginal birth became also .the son of Mary. "The Word was made flesh, and dwelt' among us" (John 1 : 14). ~Or as. Pope Saint Leo the Great graphically expresses it: "the Wisdom of God built a house in the flesh, whkh He took from a human being, and which He animated with a -rational soul." The human nature of.Christ ever remains distinct from the divine, but the two natures, are subs[an-t~ iallg united in the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. This is the closest possible .union of our human nature with God. Such an intimate, substantial union of the human and the divine is had in Jesus Christ alone, for revelation tells of only one hypostatic union. It were blasphemy to say that in our pursuit of perfection we could ever attain to such an 253 AUGUSTINE KLAAS for Religious immediate union with God. We cannot even understand its character fu!ly since'it is an ineffable mystery. Before it we can only bow our heads in faith, in adoration, and in grati-tude, too, because from the hypostat!c union comes not only our sublime Model of perfection, but also from it, as from a fo~antainbead, flow all our grace, justification, incorporation into the Mystical Body, spiritual perfection. and ultimately our everlasting:union with God in heaven. Union with God in Hea~)en The blessed Jn heaven are intimately united to God. This union of our human nature with ,the divine is not substantial, like the previous one, but only accidental. Called the beatific vision, it is an immediate intuitive p.er-ception of the essence of God ~esuking in 10ve, and a sati-ating joy and bliss that Will last forever. Aided .by the "light of glory; the blessed see God face to face. .'.'We see'nqw, ,through a glass in a dark manner.; but then fa~e to face" (I Corinthians 13" 12). And because of this direct vision of God the blessed love God to' their utmost and are supremely happy for all eternity~ They can neither increase nor diminish this union, since their time of probation is over. They are home at last in their Father's house. ¯ However, union with God in heaven is not had by all the blessed in the same degree, for "there are many man-sions" in our~elestial abode. What determines its degree? The degree o.f our vision of God and of our capacity for love and happiness .hereafter is indirect proportion to the sanctifying grace, merit, and spiritual perfection we have acquired in this l~fe. In other words, the degree.of our union with God in heaven is measured wholly by the degree of our union with God on earth. Union with God on Earth On earth we are united to God' by sanctffging grace. 254 dul~,1945 PERFECTION IS uNIoN WITH GOD Pope Leo XIII in his encyclical on the Holy spirit explains this union as follows: No. one can express the greatness of this work of divine grace in the souls.of men. Wherefore, both in Holy Scripture and in the Gritings. of the Fathers, men are styled regenerated, new creatures, partakers of 0the Divine Nature, children of God, godlike, and similar el~ithets. Now these great blessings are justly'considered as especially belonging to the. Holy Spiri.t . . . He not only .brings to us His Divine gifts, 15ut is the Author of them and is Himself the supreme Gift . To show tile nature and e~icacy of this gift it is.wel! to recall the explanation given by thee Doctors.of the Church of the words of Holy Scripture. Tfiey say that God is.present and exists in'all thin, gs by His. power, in so far as all things are sub'ject toHis power; by His presence, inasmuch a's al! thin~s are uncovered and open to His eyes; by His essence, inasmuch as He is present to all.as the cause of their being (St. Thomas, Summa Tbeologica I, Q. 8, Art. 3). But God is' in ma.n, not just as. in lifeles~ things, but in the.furthe.r way thaf He is also known and loved by him, since even by nature we spontane-ously love, desire and seek after the good.~ Moreover, God by'grac~ resides in the justsoul.as in a temple, in a most intimateand peculiar manner. From this proceeds that union of affection by which the soul adheres cl~sely to God, mor~ so than the friend is united t6 his most lovi.ng and beloved friend,' ~nd enjoys God in all fulness and sweetness. Now this wonderful union, which is prop~ly called "indwelling," differing only in degree or state from that with which God beatifies the saints in Heaven, alt1~ougl4 it is most certainly produced by ~the presence of the whole Blessed Trin-ity--" We {vill come to him, and will make .our abode ,with him" (dohn 14: 23)--nevertheless' is attributed in .a peculiar manner to the Holy Spirit. " Habitual union with God present in the~soul in a pecul-iar way through sanctif)fing, grace is of. the very essence of spiritual perfection in this world, since without sanct.ifying. grace we are supernaturallyand spiritualIy dead. On the other hand, the more sanctifying grace is increased in our souls by the worthy r.eception of the sacraments, especially of the Holy Eucharist, and by the assiduous practice of .the 255 AUGUSTINE KI~AAS Review [or Religious virtues, principally charity, the more, intimate becomes our habitual union with God and "the greater our spiritual.per-fection. When We shall have.acquired the maximum sanc-tifying grace we are capable of, granted our particular, indi-vidual opportunities of nature and.of grace, then.we shall hard attained to the closes~ habitual union with God and tbe highest perfection. This fundamental, essential perfec-tion spiritual writers sometimes call static, perfectior~. There is still another union with God flowing almost spontaneously from the'preceding'one-active union. Ac-tive union with God is called d~cnamic perfection and is what we ordinarily mean when we speak of spiritual per-fection. It consists in union with God by mind and will activity. Union with God b~t Mind Activity Active union with God" through intellect is had by thinking of God, by acquiring more and more knowledge of Him and His divine attributes fromthe .double source of reason and supernatural faith. Such knowledge of God is highly praised in Holy Scripture: "For to know thee is perfect justicei and to know thy justice, and thy power, is'tbe root of immo~tali,ty" (Wisdom 15:3). And Saint Paul: "Furthermore I count all things to be but loss for the ' excellent knowledge of Jesus Christ my lord (Philippians 3:8) . in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (Colossians 2:3). Among the Fathers of the Church, did not Saint Augustine epitomize the whole of the spiritual life as an ever increasing knowledge of self and of God? By knowledge of God is here meant not. merely theo-retical knowledge, scientific knowledge, knowledge of God acquired chiefly by the study of philosophy and theology, book knowledge, if you will. Practical knowledge of God. 256 July, 1945 PERFECTION I$ ~JNION WITH GOD that is, knc~wledge inducing will activity, , is still more important. Let us evaluate knowl~dge of God with refer~ ence to perfection. Theoretical knowledge of God is excellent. It can be, .and frequently is, a puissant help and incentive' tospiritual perfection. However, it must be asserted that while such knowledge provides a useful soiid basis for perfection, it does not constitute our spiritual perfection, nor even.indi-care the degree of perfection we may possess. Have there ¯ not been saints, like Benedict Labre and Bernadette Soubi-rous, whose scientific theoretical knowledge of God was ¯ very meager? On the other hand, do we not sometimes see students of theology, who have a verst superior knowledg~ of God and work at it all day long; leading imperfect liveR? The fallen angels have an excellent theoretical knowledge of God, but they are the very opposite of perfect. Eminent theologians warn us that perfection "does not consist in union with God by mind activity alone, even a great deal o~ it. "Tell me, dear Father," said Brother Giles one day to the learned Saint Bonaventure, "can a simple, uneducated person love God as much as a scholar? . Yes," replied Bonaventure, "a simple, little old grandmother can love God more¯ than a master of theology." Whereupon, we are told, guileless Brottier Giles rose up, rushed out ¯ th?ough the garden and along the streets of the town crying at the top Of his voice: :"O poor, ignorant, simple old grand-mother, love Gri!! You can still overtake Brother Bona-venture." If this is true, what the little old gran.dmother probably bad was not so much a theoretical as a practical, a '~realized" knowledge of God, a knowledge leading to,the firm judgment.and deep conviction:' "I must value and 10ve God above all else." ¯UpOn this pract!cal mind activity can be built the loftiest perfection, but in itself it still is not the union with God that is equated with spiritual perfection. 257 AUGUSTINE "KLAAS Reoiew for~ Retigiou; Hence, .while we must greatly esteem knowledge of God, both theoretical ~nd practical, and strive constantly and perseveringly to incre~ise it, by meditation, .by spiritual reading, by delving deeper into the truths of faith, by ofien recalling the presence of God. by recollection, and the like, we must not remain content with only that. If we would be perfect we must pass from union with God by mere mind activity to something b~yonfl, to something still more. pre-. cious, to union witb God' by will activity,by~love. Saint Teresa of Avila says t.hat clearly when discussing union with God in her Foundations (chapter 5): "The soul's advancement, does not conist in thinking much; but in loving much." Our spiritual perfection .is measured, .therefore, not by our knowledge of God, even though it be the knowledge of strong supernatural faith, but rather by" our~active lo~¢e of Him. That is why Saint Thomas can say that "the love of those things which are above us; and especially of God, is to be preferred to the knowledge ~f them: Wherefore charity is more excellent than fafth" ¯ (Summa II-II. Q. 23, Art. 6). A'nd so the little old grand~ mother could probably never overtake the saintly Doctor of the Church by her mind activity, even hi~r practical mind activity: she could overtake him by her will, by her union with God through will acti~;ity, by her active love of God. : Union with God by Will Actiuitg Presupposing in the soul a-close union With God through sanctifying grace and a certain necessary union with Him through mind activi(y, we maintain that spir-itual perfection consists above all in union with God by will activity, that is, by active love of God. Supernal~ural faith and hope must be present in the soul, but we are per-fect in proportion as we love God more; and when we have 258 du1~,1945 PERFECTION IS UNION WITH GOD attained the maximum.activelove of God we are capable of with the assistance of grace, then we have reached the very summit of the mount of perfection. Active love is th~ norm and gauge of spiritual perfection. We are just as perfect as we are united to God by active love of Him. Such is the unanimous teaching of Catholic theologians. as for instance, Saint Thomas, who states in his Perfection of Spiritual Life that "the spiritual life consists principall~r in charity. He is simply perfect in the spiritual life who is perfect in charity."° It is' the teaching of the Fathers of the Church who agree with Saint Augustine when he informs us in. his work On Nature and Grace that "incipi-ent charity is incipient justice [justice here means holiness] ; advanced charity is advanced justice; great charity.is great justice; perfect charity is perfect justice." It is the teaching of Saint Paul (I Corinthians 13). It is the explicit teaching of Christ Himself: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and withlthy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greates.t and the first com-mandment. And the second-is like to th~s:.Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." (Matthew 22:37-39.) And again: "Be you therefore perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matthew 5:48). And Saint ~John explains: ':God is charity. '" (I John 4: 16).1 Degrees of Union with God Spiritual masters have made many attempts to give us ~he ascending scale, of degrees in this unifying love of God and the characteristics that mark each degree. They are at ,variance in detail; fundamentally, however, they are in accord, for the main landings on the grand stairway leading to the highest love of God are p.retty well known and agreed upon by all. There are three suchlafidings or degrees of 1For. a fuller treatment of this point, el. Revi'eto for Reliyious, Vol. I, pp. 238 sqq. 259 ¯ ~,UGUSTINE KLAAS union with God through love. In the first the soul is so united to God and loves Him to such a degree that it habitually avoids all mortal sin and the occasions of grave sin. It has a nascent but still feeble desire for greater perfection; it still commits many venial sins, but it struggles valiantly and successfully against strong temptations. Penance for the past, purification, and mortification characterize this rather negative degree. Its prayer is mainly discursive meditation on the .fundamental truths of faith, particularly the four last things. This is the degree of beginners in the life of perfection and it is called the Purgative W.ay. in the second degree, the soul not only avoids all mor-tal sin, but habitually rejects deliberate venial sin. It makes advances in detachment from creatures and has an inc.reasing desire for perfection. The degree is more positive than negative, since the emphasis is on the acquirement of the virtues, especially by the imitation ot~ and assimilation to Christ, "the way, the truth, and the life." The prayer in this degree tends to be predominantly affective. It is the degree of those ad.vancing in perfection: it is called the" Illuminative Way. Presupposing the habitual practice of the other two, the third degree is marked by the struggle to reduce semi-deliberate venial sins and imperfections to the minimum. The soul has made great strides towards heroic detachment and is now intent on the maximum practice of the counsels and works of supererogat!on. Its manner of praying becomes more and more simple, contemplation of God's attributes being a favorite form in this degree. Intense charity permeates all its activity, since it now lives for God alone. This is the Unitive W.ay. Of course, these degrees cannot be rigidly delimited. Nor does .the soul. leave one degree and proceed to the next 260 July, 1945 PERFECTION IS UNION WITH GOD mechanically: it may. be and generally.is ~to some extent in all degrees at once. For example, in.order.to keep onese!f babitually from mortal sin, does one not have to observe a certain number of.the counsels? ~.Is the soul in the third degree exempt from doing penance? The Whole matter is one 0f emphasis, and according to the predominance of the va.rious.qualities noted above, a soul.can be easily placed in one of the tb?ee degrees. Moreover, tb~ third degree admits of indefinite progress, since we can neverlove God as much as He can be loved, and hence; our unions with Him can ,ever become more., intimat~ ag long as we live on this earth. Perf.ect and Imperfect. Love of God From the restricted viewpoi.nt of, nobility of moti~ce .two kinds Of active love of God may be distinguished. can love God above all else because He is good to us. Such is the love of God .indicated by the Psalmist when .be exclaims: "For thee my flesh and my heart hath fainted away" thou art the God of-my b.eart, and the God that is my portion forever" (Psalms 72:26). And again: ."I will ¯ love thee, O Lord,my strength.: the Lord, is-my firmament, my.refu'ge, and ~my deliverer . " .(Psalms 1'7:2). Our Lord appeals to thismotive when He proposes "treasure. in bea'Oen. '~ tbe"bundredfold," and "life e.verlasting." Because of the less perfect nature of the motive this love of God, called "imperfect love" or "i.nterested love" of God. it is already a great deal and should by no means be contemned or slighted, but there is a higher love of God springing from a nobler motive: "perfect. love," or as it is sometimes called "disinterested love", of God. "Perfect love" of God is had when We love Him above all else not so much for the good He so generously bestows on us, but for Himself, because He is all-good in Himself. , This "perfect love" is known as the love of benevolence and 261 AUGUSTINE KL&AS Revietv /:or Religio~s friendship. In its exercise we prescind from our own inter-ests or at least subordinate them to Him, since we love God simply for Himself,, and not for our own advantage. "Fhis highest of motives makes this the highest type of love of .God. In it we take complacent delight in God and in His perfections; we ardent!y desire to glorify Him; we actively give glory to Him by conforming our will as much as pos-sible in all. things to His: we .bring others to glorify Him. And all tl~is simply because God is God,.because God is all-good and all-lovable in Himself. The love Of benevolence affd friendship: is perfected extensively when we embrace by our lov~ more of the per-fections of God and more of His creatures; it: is perfected intensivelty when we make the acts of love more vehemently and more constantly until we develop a solid habit of the perfect love of God. W'hen the love reaches the maximum we are capable of then we are simply perfect. M~/stic Union with God Finally, there is still another union with God for which the union by rhind and will activity is an indispensable preparation. It is mystic union, a special gift of God's grace to His favored friends. Mystic unidn with God, an earthly union which approaches that of theblessed in heaven, is not necessary for spiritual perfection, but it is a potent means to it because it results insublime and intense acts of the perfect love of God. The precious gift of mystic union generally presupposes in him who receives it an advanced degree of union with God by active love, espe-cially perfect love. Conclusion To conclude by way of.summary: spiritual perfection is union with. God. It is union with God by a maximum 262 July/, 1945 ' PERFECTION IS UNION WITH GOD of sanctifying grace, called static perfection. It is unio.,n., with God. by a certain am.ount of necessary supernatura'[ mind activity, theoretical and practical. It is union with God by a maximum of supernatural will activity, a maxi-mum of the perfect love of God, called dynamic perfecti.on. This earthly union with God .whkh is our perfecti6n merits for us and is the measure~of our Union with God in "heaven, our ultimate, inamissible perfection. All our union with God, both in heaven and on earth, all.our spiritual perfection, we owe to the hyp0static union with God had in Jesus Christ, since He as God-man merited them fbr us by His life, passion and death. Moreover, He is the peerless Model of all spiritual perfection and union with God. PAMPHLET NOTICES It seems that religious institutes in increasing numbers are issuing pamphlets and other material to attract aspirants to their ranks. This is as it should be. One such pamphlet comes from South Africa and bears the title, Priestly/ and Religious Voca-tion. After giving a brief account of the m. issionary activity of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate, the author, Father T. F. Kelly, O.M.I., describes the nature and signs of vocation both in relation to the priesthood and to the religious life. He con-cludes with an earnest plea to the generous young people of South Africa to heed' the call of Christ. The pamphlet may be.obtained from the Oblate Novitiate, 44 Park-hill Road, Glebe, Germistou, Transvaal, South Africa. With the same purpose in mind the Sisters of Loretto, Lor~tto M0therho~se, Ner~inx. P.O., Kentucky, have issued a folder entitled "Congratulations Pegg~It."' Written in the form of a letter to a young woman about to enter the novitiate it gives us a brief account of the founding, the history, and the ~vork of the Lorettines in the Uuited States and in China. Some good photogral~hs depicting houses and activities of the congregation greatly increase the value of the folder. Father Albert H. Dolan, O.Carm., the zealous promoter of devotion to St. Therese of Lisieux, has issued a pamphlet, St. Therese, Patroness of the Mis-sions. In 16 pages he sets forth the reasons why SL Therese was chosen as Patron-ess of the Missions and urges her devout clients to follow her example of prayer and unfemittipg sacrifice for the missions. The pamphlet may be obtained from The Carmelite Press, 6413 Dante Avenue, Chicago, Illinois, or 55 Demarest Avenue; Engie~ood, N.J. Piice: ten cents. 263 Our,.Lady's Parents Francis L. Filas, S.3. MUCofH thaes p waree Wntso.u lodf l iOkue rt o,L'kandoyw, w thee c aacnt"u afli nlidf en-osttohriyng directl'y concerning them in the Gospels. However~ Holy Scripture gives us some information in stating that Christ was promised to Abraham and to 3acob, ~nd that He came out of the tribe of 3uda.1 This means that 3esus was a son of David and a son of Abraham, not only legally ~hrough St. 3oseph but also naturally through the Blessed Virgin, and therefore through her parents, 3oachim and /~nne. Various Scripture scholars have proposed a rather ingenious theory tO show that Luke set forth the genealogy of Mary rather than of 3oseph when he.wrote, "And 3esus Hi.resell, when He began His work, was about thirty years . of age, beingmas was supposed--the son of 3osdph, the son of Heli . : . the son of David . . the son of Adam. who was the son of God" (3:23). According to this the-ory the text is phrased differently so as to read, "3esus. being--as was suppbsed the son of 3oseph--the sori of Hell," and so,forth. Thus the person of Heli is identified with the person of 3oachim. Even further, the two names are said~ to be the same, for "Hell" ~Eli) is taken as a shortened form of "Eliachim." Both "Eliachim'~ and "3oachim" are interchangeable, meaning in Hebrew, "God sets up." Unfortunately, so charming a .theory is far from being accepted by all Scripture scholars. From earliest times the ¯ genealogies of Matthew and Luke have usually been inter- XGenesis 18,22, 28; Luke 1:32; Romans'l :3; 2 Timothy 2:8; Hebrews 8. 264 OUR LADY'S PARENi'S preted as giving the 1,egaI ancestry of Our Lord through St. Joseph and not through Mary. This has been the gen-eral tenor of opinion even thoug,19 no one theory fits per-fectly in further explaining th~ problems connected with the two varying accounts. Because of this silence ofthe Gospels we must turn to the only other possible sources of information concerning Mary's parents: the Iegends of Joachim and Anne. The Legends of Joachim and Anne At first sigh~ it might)seem a worthless task to have recourse to a legend to seek data about historic personages. Yet in the case of Joachim and Anne nothing else exists. We must at least consider what' was said about them, even if we cannot a~cept it all as true. The earliest account in which they are mentioned.-is Called the Protoeoange! of James, a work pretending to be a history of the birth of Mary and of the early events in tl~e life of Jesus. 'Having originated about 150 A, D., it is 0nly a hundred years younger than the Gospels and thus enjoys a reputation of antiquity. .- In common with other apocryphal literature ,of its type the Protoeoanget of James was apparently based on snatches of true tradition--a sort.of 'pious gossip---con-cerning Christ and those who were near to Him. Some~ thing like our modern historical novel, the Protoevanget wa~ meant to fill in with plausible details the gaps where the curiosity of the faithful was left unsatisfied by the four Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke~ and John. But unlike "these Gospels the Apocryphal tradition was of purely human origin. It was neither divinely inspired when com-posed nor providentially kept pure when transmitted. Accordingly, as it was.repeated again and again in word and writing, it accumulated more and more exaggerations, 265 FRANCIS L. FILAS R6biew for Religious and additions, so that at the present day we have no way of determining what is genuine and what is spurious in ~its content. The Chur~ch never accepted this imitation of the true Gospels, but early branded it as apocryphal'(as, for example, in .the Decree' of Pope Gelasius in 495). The majority of early Fa,thers of the Church, as well as later ecclesiastical writers, likewise recognized it as counterfeiL None the less, popular authors in the Middle Ages and afterward borrowed .extensively from .the legendary, source in order to stimulate the great ~levotion of the Ages of Faith. In all this spurious devotional literature the ques-tion of lying or passing on a lie was seemingly not attended to; rather, generous hearts uncritically sought and eagerly accepted every means to gain mbre knowledge, of the lives of desus and His saints. Two enlargements were made of the legend of ,loachiin and Anne as it appeared in the Pt'ptoevar~gd of da~es: namely, the Gospel of Pseado-Matthev~ (about 450 A. D.) and the Gospel of the Nativity/ [~f Mat'V (exact date unknown). As is evident, there is more likelihood of truth in the original, the P, rotoevar~get, than in any of its suc-ceeding variations. This is the substance of the original account: Joadhim is a rich and generous shepherd. He and his Wife Anne are deepl.y grieved because they have no chil-. dren. V~rhile Anne is lamenting tl6e curse of her sterility, an angel appears tO her with the Words, "The Lord hath heard thor prayer, and thou shalt conceive, and shalt bring forth; and thy seed shall be spoken of in all the world." At the same tim~ a similar vision is granted Joach~m ~hile tending his flocks~ In gratitude to God, Anne promises to consecrate.he~ child to the divine service in the Temple. Upon the birth'of the child, who receives the name of 266 dulg, 1945 OUR LADY'S PARENTS l~ary, the happy mother breaks out into a canticle of thanksgiving. Later, when she is three years old, Mary is .brought to the,Temple and joyfully remains there to praise and serve God. Such is the g!st of the early chapters of the Proto-evangel of James. In the Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew :the story is given more imagingtive coloring: Joachim's gen-erosity is described at greater length. He distributes his riches to the poor and to those "who' worshipped God"' before taking ashare for himself. At 15 he is already a wealthy shepherd" and at 20 be marries Anne, "the daughter of Acbar, of his own tribe, that is,. of the tribe of 'Juda of the family of David." The couple's childlessness lasts for twenty years, after which the angels appear to Anne and Joachim. The rest of this tale merely develops the story of the Protoevangel, adding more details, greatek emphasis, and .particularly more frequent miraculous inter-ventions. The third and final form of the legend is contained in the Gospel of the Nativitg of Maw, a charming though unhistorical con~pilation of the preceding tradition. This Gospel does not'add substantially to the tale of th~ Proto-evangel, but rather edits it.so that the poetical beauty of the narrative is heightened and made more sublime. ~What Is True of Joachim and Anne? The task of separating the true' from the false in the old Apocryphal legends is most difficult, if not impossible. Yet, though we have no historical norms by which to judge, we can at least, attempt to determine what is definitely interpo!ated and what can perhaps be a vestige of the orig-inal correct tradition. ' In the first place, the special i'niracles of the angelic appa-ritions are quite doubtful. Such momentous divine inter- 267 FRANCIS L. FILAS Review for Religiods ventions in the lives of the parents of Mary would certainly have &awn so muchattention should we say notoriety? .-=to the Blessed Virgin that the obscurity which a-ccom-panied her life with doseph and desus would have given way to constant public notice. Moreoyer,- the Proto-evangel of dames, like all the Apocrypha, has a'very explicit tendency to scatter miracles with a bountiful hand through-out its narrative. Perhaps the most cogent reason for denying credibility to the miracles of the,Protoeoar~gel is the evident modeling of these prodigies on genuine miracles related in Holy Scripture. All the writers of Apocryphal legends are eager to have their accounts placed on a par with the canonical Gospels. They not only copy typical Gospel stories, but even plagiarize directly from th~ inspired text. In thecase ofdoachim his forty days" fast as a prayer. to obtain a child is based on the fasts of Moses, Elias, and Christ.~ Even more striking is the parallel between Anne~s prayer to (3od and theprayer of ,~dnna, mother of Samuel, that the Lord "would give to His servant a man-child.''3 Again, the canticle of thanksgiving of Anne, wife of 3oa-" chim, .is suspiciously similar to.the canticle of her earlier namesake and, .to some extent, to the Mayrffficat of the Blessed Virgin.4 In contrast to the few imi~ortant details given by the Gospels, the legends go to great lengths to set forth trivi-alities. -That is why the familiar details concerning Joa-chim's prosperity must also be re]ected. They constitute precisely the information which the Apocrypha were invented to supply. o The least~doubtful of all the data in the legend is the correctness o.f. the names Joachim and Anne. It seems UExodus 24:18, 34:28; .3 Kings 19:8; Matthew. 4:2. al Kings 1:9,18. 41 Kings 2: Luke 1:46-55. 268 dulq, 1945 'OuR'LADY'S PARENTS likely that,the name "Anne'~ (Anna: Hannah) reminded the early writer of Hannah, mother of Samuel, and thus led him to introduce the direct divine announcement of the forthcoming birth Of M~ry, modeled on that of the annouficement of the birth of Samuel. On the other hand, "Elcana," the name of the father Of Samuel has no resem-blance to "Joachim," the name of the father of Mary. Neither the names nor the circumstances related of Joachim and Elcana are similar. Finally, we must not forget that in all Christian centuries "Joachim" and ".Anne" were accepted as the names of the parents of Mary even while.the other details of their legend were discarded by the majority of Church scholars. While we .can prudently, doubt the authenticity of the legends of 3oachim and Anne, we know with absolute cer-tainty that God gave them every grace needed for their posi-tion as father and fiaother of the Mother Of God: The all-perfect and sinless Mary could hardly be born of any but the most saintly parents. In granting Joachim and Anne the title of saints, the Church has acted wisely and con-si~ te.ntly. The devotion v~hieh it sanctioned does not strand or fall with the correctness or falsity of the iegends. Rather, it represents the honor that is logically paid to the two per-sons ;¢¢hom the Eternal Father chose to bring forth the Mother of God. Just as J~sus sancti~fied Mary and Jose.ph by.His close relations with them, so must Mary .have sanc-tiffed h~r father and mother by her intimacy with ~hem in the years durir~g whi(h God was preparing her for her career as mother of the Savior and as the mother of all redeemed mankind. , The words of St. Peter Damian best express the atti-tude we ought to cultivate with regard to the details of the lives of Mary's parents. "There are s~ome," he writes, "who ¯ w~shing to know what is useless, seek with vain and exces- , 269 ¯ FRANCIS L. FILAS sire curiosity to find who was the father and who ¯ mother of Mary. They seek. to discover in vain¯What the Evar~gelist deemed it superfluous to ~elate. Had this knowledge been necessary, so noble a historiafi would not have neglected to give it to us, inasmuch as it is the constant practice of the sacred writers never to say .what can injure and never to omit what it is useful for us to know.''" If the greatness of the Blessed Virgin stemmed from. ,Joachim and Anne, the Gospels would have described them fully to us. But the case is actuallythe opposite. Mary is the light in whose reflected glory her parents shine. That is sufficient for Our interest. With absolute assurance we know the greatness of Mary from the revealed word of God. This fact again is more than enough to deduce the greatness of her parents. Our piety and devotion do not rest on an old tradition which cannot be authenticated and might one day be proved false in its'entirety. They are based on the truth demonstrated again and again during nine'teen cen-turies of Christian history--nearer to Ma~y means nearer to God. OUR CONTRI.BUTORS AUGUSTINE KLAAS, Professor of Sacramental Theology at St. Mary's College, is the author of several previous articles on the nature of perfection. (~. AUGUSTINE ELLARD and GERALD KELLY are members of our Editorial Board and Professors of Ascetical Theology and Moral Theology respectively. WALTER J. ONG is a stu-dent of theology at St. Mary's. FRANCIS L, FILAS, who has recently been ordained to the priesthood at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. has con-tributed several articles to earlier i~sues of the REVIEW. ~Hom. 3 in Natio. B.V,M. .270 ( ues ions and Answers 35 Many sacristans would be grateful ~o you if you would publish these qu6stions and the answers to them in Review for Religious: (I) Must blessed ashes left over Trom Ash Wedn~e~day be put into the sacrarlumT. (2) Please llst all things that should be put into the sacrarlum. 1 ) Yes, it.ls proper to put the blessed ashes into the sacrarium, or else to throw them into the fire. (2) We cannot guarantee to give a list of all the thifigs that should be put into the sacrarium. Here are some of them: used baptismal water, other .blessed water, the.contents of the ablution cup kept near the tabernacle, the water used in washing the altar linens (palls, purificators, and corporals), and the water left in the taoabo dish after Mass. Please outlln~ the respective jurisdiction of the mother general and the local superior in a motherhouse in .which there is alsoa novitiate. What authority should each exercise with regard to (I) Sisters residing habitually in the house, (2). Sisters visiting the motherhouse, (3} occasional, events.~ The mother general goverias the institute as a whole; the local superior governs the local community just as any .other local superior does. Hence the Sisters residing habitually in the house, as well as Sisters visiting the motherhouse, are subject to the local Superior as they would be in any other community. As to occasional events, these have reference either to the local community or to the institute as a whole. In the first case they are under the direction of the local superior, in the second case under that of the mother ~eneral. The novitiate i~ directly under the care and supervision of the mistress of ndvices. Canon 561, § 1 clearly indicates this: "The master (mistress) of novices alone has the right and the obligation of providing for.the formation of the nbvices; he alone is charge.d with the direction of the novitiate, so that no one, under whatever pretext, may interfere in these matters, except 'superiors who are permitted to do so by the constitutions and the canonical visitors; as to the gen-eral discipline of the house, the master (mistress),. together v~ith.the novices themselves, is subject to the (local) superior." 271 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious In two of our cqnvents there has been a bng-standlng custom of taking the body of a deceasi~d Sister to the communlty.chapel on the afternoon before the day of the funeral. I recall either hearing or reading that only the body of a deceased bishop, priest, etc., may be left in the church or chapel befor~ the burial Mass. What is the affltude of the Church on this point? Has canon law any provisions regarding.this maffer? There seems to be no positive, legislation either prohibiting or permitting the body of a deceased person to be brought to .the church or' chapel the day before the funeral and to remain there overnight. o Hence it would seem to be determined by local custom. In places where such a custom has been observed for a long time it may be con-tinued, but it .should not be introduced in other pkices without first consulting the local ordinary. 38 Some years ago we opened a mission house in a diocese distinct from that in which our motherhouse is located. We obtained permission from both bishops to do so. We now wish to close this house, because of serious difficulties. Is it necessary to informboth bishops of our intention to dis-continue our services in that particular parish? The closing, of a religious house is provided for in canon 498 which reads as follows: "No religious housel whether formal or not, belonging to an exbmpt institute, can be suppressed without apostolic authority; a house belonging to a non-exempt congregation approved or commended by the Holy See can be suppressed by the.supbrior gen-eral with the consent of the local ordinary; if it belongs to a diocesan congregation, it can be suppressed by "the mere authority .of the local ordin.ary after consultation with the superior of the congregation, subject however to the prescription of canon 493 if there be questio,n of an only house, and preserving the right of recourse with suspensive ~ effect to the Apostolic See." "' .Hence we must distinguish three cas~s: (1) The house belongs to an exemp.t institute, that is, to an order (which is exempt by law) or to a congregation which enjoys:a special privilege of exemption. In this case the permission of the Holy See must be obtained in order" to close the house. (2) The house .belongs to a congregation approved or commended (decree of praise) by the Holy See. In this case the superior general can close the house with the comenr .of the local ordin.ary, that is, the bishop of the.diocese in which, the house to 272 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS be closed is located. If' the bishop does not igiv.e his consent, the house cannot b~ closed by the su15erior general, o But the perrnissibn of the bishop of the diocese in which the motherhouse is located is not required to close a house in another diocese. (3) The house belongs to a diocesan congregation. The local ordinary alone can close it after consultation with the superior general of the congregation. The superior 'general cannot close the house: odly the bishop can do so. He must consult the superior general, but he does not need the consent o~ the latter. However, if the superior general thinks the house should not be closed, he may appeal to the Holy See against the decree of the bishop. Until the Holy See decides the case the decree remains sus-pended. ~ ~ m39~ On page 306 of the September, 1944, issue of t.he Review, you have an' article on rosaries made of string. We are eager to learn if anyone use these rosaries and gain the indulgences, or is their use restricted to those who are in the armed forc'es? May~ the rosary indulgences be gained by using the rosary plaques which have a kind of notched bead effect forming a decade around the plaque? These have been advertised in some Catholic reviews. ~ From the fact that this extraordinary privilege of blessing rosaries made of string was granted only to chaplains of the British and Allied Forces for the duration of the war, provided they already enjoyed the privilege of blessing and,indulgencing rosaries, it wo.uld seem to follow that the use of such.rosaries is confined to members of the armed forces. It is very doubtful whether others may use them and gain the indulgences ;ittached. In order that it may be blessed and enriched with indulgences,'a ¯ rosary must be made in the form prescribed.by the Church, that is, it must consist of five, ten, or fifteen, decades. The Sacred Congrega-tion of Indulgences explicitly declared on January 20, 1836, that gold or silver rings upon which ten beads had been embossed could not be blessed with the indulgences of the rosary. Such devices as ¯ rings and plaques may be a help for counting Parers and Ayes, but one would not gain the indulgences attached to the recitation of the beads by using them Is a religious institute justified in refusing perpetual vows to a religious who from the first year of her temporai'y profession began' fo manifest' .273 QUESTIbNS AND ANSWERS Review [or Religioug sym.ptoms of a psychosis (dementia praecox h/pc)?' The doctor s!ncerely believes that the cause and perhaps some minor symptoms may have been present heft;re her first'profession (unknown to the relkjious herself). The doctor also recommends that the individual return to the world because she will have a better chance of maklncj' a normal adjustment outside the environs of the cloister. The answer to this case is contained in canon 637: '"Those who have ,made profession of temporary vows may, when the term of the vows has expired, freely leave the institute: likewi'se, the institute, for just and reasonable motives, cab excltid~ the rehglous from renewin~ the temporary vows o_r~from~,making profession of perpetual~vows, nbt however because-bf ili health unless it be clearly proved that the religious, before profession, had fraudulently hidden or dissimulated the.illness." The institute, therefore; may not refuse perpet.ual vows to the religious in question if she did not fraudulently conceal her illness. The religious, however, is free to leave at~th.e expiration of her tem-porary vows, and a dispensation would readily be g'ranted by the proper a.uthority before the temporary vows have expired. It would be advisable, therefore, to have the doctor inform the Sister frankly of her condition and of the prospect of recovery outside the cloister, and to have him suggest to her that she should ask for a dispensation from her temporary vows, or at least leave of her own accord at the expiration of her temporary vows. If the Sister insists on staying, however, the institute may not send h~r away but must allow her to take perpetual vows if she is mdnt~lly capable of doing so. With reference to those who may be incapable of pronouncing final vows, it may be useful to introduce here two answers regarding the treatment and status of a religious who loses his mind during the period of tempbrary vows. The answers were given by the Sacred Congregation of Religious on Februars; 5, 1925, with the approval of His Holiness, Pius XI. "Whether one who is professed of the simple vows in an order or congregation, and who during the three years loses his mind, even incurably according, to the judgment of physicians, can at the end of three years be sent ,back to his relatives or into the world, or whether he must be kept in the religious institute?" The answer given: "In the negative'to the first part; in the af~rmative to the. second." To the further question: "What is the juridical condition of such 274 1945 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS a religious, and what are the obligations of the religious institute in the matter?" the reply was: "The' religious in question belongs to the religious institute in the state in which he was when he lost his mind. and the institute has th~ same obligations towards him that it,had at that time." ~41-- A certain mother superior of a concjreoafio~ in which temporary vows are taken for a year at a time for three: years preparatory to perpetual profess!on availed herself of the permission granted by canon 577, § 2 to "anticipate the renewal of temporary vows by one month. Thus, suppose the Sisters who made their first temporary profession on August IS, 1942, were permiHed to renew their vows for a year on July IS, 1943, and again on June IS, 1944, and final!y were'allowed to take their perpetual vows on June 15, 1945. Would such perpetual vows be valid? No, the perpetual vows .would not be valid because canon 572 requires that a period of three years x~ith temporary vows precede the profession of perpetual vows in order that it "may be valid. The Sis-ters in question had temporary" vows for only two years and ten months. Hence their perpetual vows were invalid. The mother superior misunderstood the permission granted in canon 577. This allows the renewal of temp,orary vows to be antici-pated ¯ by some days but not beyond one month. It does not take away any of the time required for temporary vows. When the Sis-ters took their first vows for a year, that year expired on the same recurring day one year later, August I15, 1943. Hence the vows which were renewed for another year on duly 15, "1943 did not begin to bind until'August 15, 1943, and did not ,expire until August 15, 1944. That this is the only meaning which canon 577 can have becomes evident if we read canon 34, § '3, 5° which tells us how time is to be computed in this case: "When there is question of acts to be renewed at stated times, for instance, a period of three years after temporary profession up to perpetual prof,ession, the'~ime ends on the same recurring day on which it began, but th~ new act may be placed. at any time on ~bat day." Hence perpettial profession may not be made until the same calendar day three years.after the first tempora(y profession ~was made. As w~ have seen above, this complete period of three .years is require.d bE canon 572 for the validit~l of the perpetual. professio.n. 275 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS --42-- Wh~t ;s the ob~J;ga~fion of the local superior wlth regard to conferences to be given to the community from time to time? How often should they be given? Must they be 9;yen by a priest? What is to be done if no priest ;s available? Canon 509 prescribes that "the local superiors shall take care . . . to have given at least twice a month . especially in lay institutes, a pious exhortation to all the members of the house." This exhortation is something.different from the catechetical instruction pre.scribed by the same canon for lay Brothers ahd l~ay Sisters (that separate class of religious devoted-to domestic duties), The purpose of the exhorta-tion is not principally to instruct but to renew the religious spirit and to urge the members of the commu.nity to even greater efforts in the observance of religious discipline and in the acquirement of religious virtues. These exhortations should be given to the community twice a month. Several eminent authors are of the opinion that they need not be given during the summer vacation. The law says that Superiors shall take care. This is a milder form of precept than the ordinary must se'e to it. It requires serious diligence on the part of the superior to have these exhortations given tO the community twice a month. If after diligent care has been exerted' the exhortation, cannot be had, the law is not violated.~ The exhortation may be given by the superior himself or by some other religious of the community tirovided he is capable. In !ay con-gregations an effort should be made to have a priest give these exhor-tations, at least from time t6 time. In case a, priest Or a capable reli-gious cannot be had to give these exhortations, it is recommended that a conference be read in place of the exhortation. Within kecent ¯ years excellent conferences written especially for religious have been published by Fatherg Skelly, Muntsch, Gabriels, and others. They will serve as a substitute for the exhortation as far as subject matter is concerned. This substitute, however, cannot be strictly imposed, since a pious reading is not the juridical substitute for an exhortation. However, in practice, when nothing better can be had, such pious reading of a conference dealing with a subject relating directly to the religious life will.he.lp to attain the puypose of the law, namely, to stir up the religious spirit' and to renew religious observance. 276 ommunicatdons Aga~ns~ "Formalism" " Reverend Fathers: In your last issue a Priest Religious objected to a pointa Sister brought upin the question, "Is there not too much formalism in our life?" The Sister had a point that should make all superiors examine their own governing of their communities. Is adherence to any com-munity rule more important than charity to the laity? 'But that is only by the way. I'd like to answer in my own humble way some of the arguments he proposes in' answer to her question. He begins by saying that we religious are professional people and can't be expected to be on call twenty-four hours a day. Well, if we are professional people, what is our profession? Unless" the religious is in a cdntemplative order, i~n'.t it the saving of souls by persor/al dealings with them? Helping souls to heaven by teaching, preaching, administering the sacra'merits, leading souls closer to Christ by our own'example, especially charity--not only in spiritdal mat-ters but in mundane matters as ~well? We should thank God that the people trust us enough to come to us with their e~rery day troubles, andif these .things make ours a twenty-four-hou,r-a-day job, then that's what it should be. It will be a sorry day for us if they ever do lose this trust in us, and we are not helpingmatters by refusing to even see them. It would be pretty difficult to imagine Christ or the Bles-sed Virgin setting up office hours for those who wanted to talk to them. The story of Christ and the little children gives us some idea of what He would d6. The Priest Religious then goes on to say tha't religious orders would be wrecked over night if their members were at the mercy of every whim and caprice of undisciplined souls that want us to be serv-ants of the pe~ople whenever their impulse suggests. From what I understand of religious life, we're supposed to be servants of the people even when their impulse doesn't suggest it. And as to-the first part, if any order can be wrecked because people want advice, comfort, or even a "hand-out," from the individual members of.the order, it would probably be" for the" good of the Church if it were wrecked. 277 COMMUNICATIONS Reoiew for Rel!yiot~s I know of no such order; but if any exists, its foundations are cer-tainly very shallow--its members are not. at all Christ-like, and they don't give the correct picture of the "Love thy neighbor" policy that Christ preached and that they should practice. The Priest Religious' then goes on to say, "any priest or religious who i~ at the continual call of unreasonable people . endangers his health." That sou,nds as if the average priest or religious has a line of unreasonable people waiting to see him or her all day long. .I've worked' in a large city parish and no one of the five priests there, no matter how popular, ever had more than four different parties waiting for him. It might take him a couple of ho.urs to see them all, but isn't that our job? Not only God, but even the laity expect us to do more than say Mass, hear confessions, run sick calls, teach in the school, and conduct a couple of sodalities. Then too, the average caller at a rectory or convert( is not unreasonable. Certainly., there are.so.me. and we can't expect to be immune. But bnly one out of ten could be called truly unreasonable. The rest of the time isn't the priest or Sister the unreasonable one when he or she objects that the parlor call is taking them from something else? His letter then goes oh to say, "One means of taking care of this situation is to have an intelligent doorkeeper who can "judge when there is a real need." Heaven help us! Why not tell the house-kegper to call us only for sick calls. People usually come to see a priest, not a housekeeper. I've only been ordained nine years, but even I.can see t~e'spirit of anti-clericalism that is growing even among our own people. Much of this is our own fault." Too often we see or hear of a priest or religious who i~ so high-handed that he makes himself inaccessible to the people. That isn't exactly what Christ had in mind when He called us .to be "fishers of men." No, I'm afraid I can't agree with this Pries~ Religious. If we have people storming the doors of our rectories because they want to see the priest, good for us!! True, our health may be endangered by this overwork, but what greater way to become ill tha~by serving the people, reasonable or unreasonable, as Christ would waht us to? In conclusion, to the Sister wl~o asked, "Is there not too much formalism in our life?" I'd like to say, "There certainlyis, Sister, and not nearly enough charity." A Diocesan Priest 278 Jul[t, "19 4 ~ COMMUNICATIONS Delayed Vocations Reverend Fathers: I remember a few years ago a Catholic weekly began to tun a page ~ for the men in~ the.service. Soon the women in the service com-plained that nothing was done for them. Perhaps they will make the same complaint When they realize that' something big is beihg done for the men to keep alive the grace of a vocation to the religious and (or) priestly life, or to enkindle such a vocation. No doubt there are women in the service whom Christ will favor with the call to serve Him as Sisters; women Whom He will want tO continue their marvellous work of caring for the ~eedy and the sick and of educating children, but not without consecrating their lives to ¯ Him in religion as His Spous,.es. These women will bare bad training in rather rigid discipline: they will have learned that it is possible to live contentedly in a uniform that is not made of silks and satins; they will know what it mean~ to make sacrifices for others. It would certainly' be of great heip for them to follow the inspi-rations ot: grace if they would receive positive encouragement from the Sisterhoods, if they .knew they are really wanted. Sisterhoods that are interested in such vocations should let the women know that they are willing to accept them. My attention was called to the Little Flower Mission Circle, Inc. (321.E. 156tb St., New York 55, N. Y.) for the promotion of vocations to all religious communities. It publishe.s a quarterl3~ chlled Come, Folloto Me. Perhaps this could serve the purpose. Or, a bulletin similar to lntroibo could be printed. Centers might be designated where such candidates could meet, either in a schoolc or in the parish hall, or perhaps even in the convent parlor. Tber~ they could come in direct contact with the Sisters. It seems that' such a venture would be most pleasing to Christ and quite profitable to religious communities and to the Church. Religious Priest [EDITORS' NOTE: Upon "receipt of the preceding communication we wrote to the Editor of lmroibo and asked him to tell us something about this publication. We received the following answer--with permission to publish it if we wished.] Reverend Fathers: lntroibo is a mimeographed bulletin that has had three issues since 279 COMMUNICATIONS . Review [or Religlous January and will have five mbre each~year? It is sent to any service-man who writes to Introibo, 19 Eye St., N.W., Washington 1, D.C. It is meant for servicemen who plan to be diocesan priests, religious priests, or Brothers. It makes no difference.what diocese the men will belong t%,or what religious institute they intend to join. The bu

Issue 50.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1991. This is a special 50th anniversary issue on Ignatian spirituality. ; Review for Religious Volume 50 ¯ Number 1 January/February 1991 Ignatian Spirituality Ellard ¯ Grace ¯ Barry ¯ Ong ¯ Klaas Murphy ¯ Divarkar ¯ Cannon ¯ Fischer Fleming ¯ Flynn ¯ Townsend ¯ Wickham REVIEW FOR R~;Uc~OUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office; 3601 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW FOR Rr:LI(;Iot,sP.O. Box 6070; Duluth. MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mail-ing costs; two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover fi)r subscription information and mailing costs. 01991 Rv.w~.:w voa RELII;IOUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Micheal G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David J. Hassel, S.J. Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. January/February 1991 Volume 50 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editnr should be sent to Rt:\'~t:w t't~a Rt:u~aous; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. lamis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Eliza-beth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues shnuld be ordered from Rt:w~:w voa Rt:~J~;~ous; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. la~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Oat Df print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Review for Religious Volume 50, 1991 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis. Missouri 63108-3393 David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR REL~GOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright© 1991 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of R~wEw FOR RZL~G~OUS is also regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS begins its fiftieth year of publication with this issue. To celebrate, we are dedicating this entire issue to contemporary reflections on Ignatian spirituality, the spirituality that enlivened and in-spired the three founding editors--Augustine Ellard, Adam Ellis, and Ger-ald Kelly, all Jesuit priests. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has never been identified as the publication of a particular school of spirituality or of one religious-life tradition. In the vision of the founding editors, the journal was to serve all religious-life communities and at the same time to be a forum for the wide exchange of ideas and developments in the spiritual life and apostolic mission of the Church itself. Over the years all religious groups and spiritual-life traditions have been represented among the authors and through the arti-cles found in the pages of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. The strength and the ap-peal of the journal have been in its broadening of our horizons for both understanding and developing our Catholic spiritual and apostolic lives. To use the imagery recalled in the title of this foreword, the authors and articles have given us various prisms through which we can view from various angles the Christian calling to be with Jesus in the bringing about of the reign of God. This issue, however, in one sense narrows that focus and centers on lgnatian spirituality, not just as a tribute to the founding editors, but also as a particular contribution to the celebration of the lgnatian anniversaries~50 years from the founding of the Society of Jesus and 500 years from the birth of Ignatius Loyola. The contribution which Ig-natius has made to the spiritual vitality of Christian life is especially evi-denced in the widespread retreat experience of laity, clergy, and religious according to the method of the Spiritual Exercises. At its beginnings, lg-natian spirituality played an important role in the Church renewal stimu-lated by the Council of Trent. In a similar way, since Vatican II the lg-natian tradition of discernment has been key to religious chapter renewal and choice of apostolic mission, in addition to personal and parish re-newal. Because of the widespread influence of this lgnatian tradition over the centuries on both the Christian devotional life and the de-velopment of religious-life forms, the decision was made to let this is- Review for Religious, Janua13,-February 1991 sue take its "Ignatian" shape from various unsolicited articles recently submitted for possible publication and from a few "classical" Ignatian articles reprinted from earlier issues. One of the founding editors, Father Augustine Ellard, S.J., provides us with an overall review of the elements of Ignatian spirituality; when the article was originally published in 1952, it was one of a series on vari-ous religious-life spiritualities. Two other articles drawn from early past issues deal with the meaning of the A.M.D.G. motto and its directional value for our living (written by Walter Ong, S.J.) and with the retreat movement as influenced by the Ignatian Exercises (written by Augustine Klaas, S.J.). Parmananda Divarkar, S.J., touches upon the apparent Ignatian para-dox between a growing sense of personal freedom and an ever more bind-ing loyalty to Christ and to his Church; he finds his reflections embod-ied in the former superior general of the Society of Jesus, Father Pedro Arrupe. In a similar way, William Barry, S.J., traces the development of a freeing experience in the self-and-God imagery of Ignatius as a possi-ble model for our own growth. In their two articles, David Townsend, S.J., and David Fleming, S.J., consider two different aspects of the lg-natian prayer tradition captured in the contemporary phrases of "find-ing God" and "centering." In two articles which specifically consider the Spiritual Exercises, John Wickham, S.J., introduces us to a deeper appreciation of the com-munal dimensions involved in the Ignatian Exercises, while Dr. Helen Murphy shares her experience of familiarizing people, particularly col-lege students, with the movements of the Exercises. William Barry, S.J., proposes an understanding of discernment as particularlyrelevant to the spiritual crisis of our time. Then in two articles reflecting on ministry today, David Fleming, S.J., points to the "secret" of an Ignatian way of ministering, and James Flynn, S.J., reviews the contemporary collabo-rative effort to share the lgnatian spirit among all the parties who make up a complex apostolic institution, such as a Jesuit university. What Ig-natian spirituality, especially in the form found in the Christian Life Com-munities, has meant to lay people is reflected in Mrs. Ligeia Cannon's article. How deeply intertwined Ignatian spirituality is with the Church's devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus inspires a fresh and invigorating re-examination by Edmond Grace, S.J. The book-review section, too, centers on Ignatian spirituality. Be-sides the reviews of three recently published books dealing with Ignatian spirituality, with the Spiritual Exercises in daily life, and with the per- Prisms sonal diary of the Jesuit John Eagan, Philip Fischer, S.J., provides a sum-mary introduction to the many publications of the Institute of Jesuit Sources since its beginning in the 1960s. He also calls our attention to some of the books dealing with Ignatian themes which have recently ap-peared or have been published consistently by certain other publishing houses. We hope that the authors and their articles in this unique issue pro-vide all our readers with a way to share in the celebration of the Ignatian anniversaries and the fiftieth anniversary of this journal. The editors also want to express our deep appreciation for the cover design produced by Thomas Rochford, S.J., and Michael Harter, S.J., which sets off and marks this issue as special. For those who may want to share this issue with others, individual copies can be ordered from the editorial offices in St. Louis at $3.50 plus $1.50 for postage and handling. Ad multos annos! David L. Fleming, S.J. Ignatian Spirituality Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. Father Augustine Ellard, S.J., along with Fathers Adam Ellis, S.J., and Gerald Kelly, S.J., is a founding editor of REvw.w FOR RF~.~C~OUS. These three Jesuits re-mained the editorial board for the first fifteen years of the journal. The following article was published in the May 1952 issue. Although some of the militaristic stress of Ignatian spirituality would be mitigated by commentators today, the article re-mains an excellent summary of lgnatian principles. Father Ellard died on February 17, 1970--the last of the founding editors to die. I Ignatian spirituality is one of the modern schools. It acknowledges its jun-ior status, and gladly and gratefully accepts the rich inheritance that the older schools of Catholic spiritual tradition have put at its disposal. Fa-ther Dudon, in his St. Ignatius of Loyola, devotes the whole of chapter twelve to showing that just when he was working out his own ideas and ideals, St. Ignatius was under the influence of a rather large number of different currents of spirituality. The two principal instruments of his con-version were the Life of Christ by Ludolph of Saxony and the Lives of the Saints by Jacopo de Voragine. The former was a Carthusian, and the latter a Dominican. Ignatius often thought: "St. Dominic did this, St. Francis that; should not I also do as they?" As a matter of fact, for a time he thought of becoming a Carthusian. His favorite book through-out life was Thomas ~. Kempis; thus he put himself in debt to the "De-votio Moderna" that the Brothers of the Common Life and the monks of Windesheim were propagating. These three works were major forces in his formation. In addition to these he came under the personal influ-ence of the Benedictines at Montserrat, of the Dominicans with whom he lived at Manresa, of the Franciscans, of the Hieronymites, of the Cis-tercians, and probably of others also. It is the opinion of at least one man who has made a very special Ignatian SpiritualiO, / 7 study of Ignatian spirituality, namely Boeminghaus, that Ignatius fused two streams of spirituality which before him had come down in more or less parallel lines (Boeminghaus, Die Aszese der lgnatianischen Exerci-tien, 10-34). These traditions were those typified by Thomas fi Kempis and St. Francis of Assisi. During the later years of the Middle Ages the school of spirituality that was most fresh and vigorous was that of the Christian Renaissance, just referred to under the Latin name that it usu-ally goes by, namely, "Devotio Moderna." It marked a reaction against excessive speculation in piety and stressed the supreme importance of be-ing practical in one's religious life. In particular, it tended to put more method into the spiritual life and especially into the mental prayer that should animate and vivify it. In a word, one may say that its asceticism was that which we are all familiar with from the Imitation of Christ. The second stream was the Franciscan. It taught pious souls to take the Gospel literally, to seek evangelical simplicity and poverty, to look to Jesus in his human nature as he really existed in time and place, to respond to him as a person with love and devotion, to keep united with him as intimately as possible, and finally to live and work with him. Hence vitality, enthusiasm, and personal response characterize it, as prac-tical method and earnestness marked the other. Boeminghaus sums up his idea in suggesting that, to a great extent, St. Ignatius took his method from the Christian Renaissance group and the content of his system from the Franciscan tradition, and then united them in his own original way. In these pages Ignatian spirituality is taken to include not only the teaching of St. Ignatius himself, but also that of his order. For the saint's own doctrine the primary written sources are, besides his Spiritual Ex-ercises and the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, his Spiritual Jour-nal and some of his letters. Certain letters are very important and do not always get the attention they deserve by those who profess to present his doctrine, especially on mental prayer. Some of the letters, too, are equiva-lent to little didactic treatises; examples are the celebrated Epistle on Obe-dience and the letter on perfection to the students of the Society at Coim-bra (May 7, 1547). The spiritual teaching of the Jesuits is to be found partly, in certain official documents, for instance, letters of the Fathers General, and principally in the numerous published works of Jesuit as-cetical and mystical authors. Moreover, Ignatian spirituality is understood to comprise both that according to which Jesuits themselves try to live, including a certain con-ception of the religious life, of the vows, and especially of obedience, and also that which they propose for others who accept their instruction. Of course, it is not implied in presenting Jesuit ideals that all Jesuits Review for Religious, Janua~3,-February 1991 fully realize them. Basic Ideas The fundamental element in any school of spirituality is the theory or set of ideas underlying it and giving it life and direction. There must be some definite conception, for example, of God, of Christ, of human nature, and of the world. Different initial views on these fundamental re-alities or their relations necessarily give rise to different attitudes of will and divergent practical principles. St. Ignatius's mentality ,was not at all theoretical. Hence the general intellectual outlook in his system is simple and concrete. It is decidedly akin to that of the Synoptic Gospels rather than to St. John or St. Paul. It is not learned or theological, like, for instance, that of the Dominican Fathers or of the French Oratory. God is conceived mostly as a great and good king, as a grand mon-arch on the divine scale. It is emphasized especially that he is the crea-tor and hence the sovereign lord of all. St. Ignatius liked to refer to God as "His Divine Majesty," or "the Supreme Goodness." Among the di-vine attributes liberality is often singled out for mention. God is not thought of as "All in all" or as "Prime Mover" or as "the Divine Spouse." Christ, the God-man, is so rich in various aspects that no one person or group of his disciples could exhaust them all. Hence different schools of spirituality emphasize different phases of the great reality that he is. One could consider him as an adorable divine king sitting at the right hand of the Father, surrounded by a heavenly court of angels and saints, and receiving the homage of prayer and work from devout men on earth. Another could concentrate attention and affection above all on the scenes of the crib and the cross. A third, utilizing the concepts of theology, could make much of the Word Incarnate. St. Ignatius sees Christ mostly as the son of the divine King, and a king himself, but with a kingdom still to be conquered. He is a crusading king, at the head of his army, announcing his intentions, and inviting men to volunteer for service. The peculiar temper of a school may depend much on how it con-ceives human nature, to cite an historical example: ancient Alexandrine spirituality took intelligence rather than any other faculty to be the great thing about being human and accordingly it stressed the place of con-templation in the perfect life. The modern French School (Cardinal de B~rulle) is noted for its pessimistic conception of human nature and the effects upon itof original sin. St. Ignatius is characterized in this matter by a certain optimism and voluntarism. Human nature is indeed some- lgnatian Spiritualio, / 9 thing that needs chastening and training, but basically it is good and to be developed and put to work in the cause of Christ. If all creatures have their value, afortiori human nature has; in fact a human being is the end and purpose of all other things. Bodily strength is not t6 be diminished by indiscreet austerities, but to be brought under control and made ef-fective for service of God. The voluntarism of St. Ignatius is abundantly illustrated throughout the Exercises; he never ceases to refer to "what I wish." The Ignatian view of the world, too, is rather distinctive. Unlike many ascetics of old he did not look upon it as something evil to be fled from and shunned as much as possible. Nor like St. Bernard did he con-sider it better to avoid creatures than to use them. He did not share St. Francis's tender sentiment toward lowly creatures as brothers and sisters. St. Bonaventure and many holy people of the Middle Ages stressed the fact that all things are likenesses of God and should be looked upon as enlightening us about him and attracting us to him. St. Ignatius is more utilitarian and practical. For him everything in creation is a means to help people to work out their destiny; everything is to be regarded and treated solely with reference to that purpose. Corresponding to the ideas that one conceives of God and of human being will be one's ideal of perfection, that is, what one takes to be the completely right relation between God and us. Of course, the followers of St. Ignatius would be entirely submissive to their Creator and Supreme Lord. They would make God's ends their own and seek to achieve them by the means that God prefers. To the divine liberality they also respond with magnanimous liberality. Enrolled in the apostolic campaign with Christ, they endeavor to associate themselves as closely as possible with their great leader, to work with him as effectively as possible, and to imi-tate him in all respects, but especially in bearing poverty and humiliation nobly. Thus in everything they strive to love and serve the Divine Maj-esty. They conform their will altogether to that of God. "What I wish" becomes precisely what God wishes. Leading Principles Logically and naturally the basic ideas of a system of spirituality, in themselves more or less theoretical, give rise to practical principles in-dicating the appropriate action that should follow. The Divine Purpose and Plan The first and supreme principle of lgnatian asceticism is to seek the end for which God created one. "Man is created to praise, reverence, Review for Religious, Januat3,-FebruaO, 1991 and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul": the "First Principle and Foundation" in the Spiritual Exercises (23).(Quotations from the Exercises are from Louis J. Puhl's translation: the figures refer to the paragraph enumeration introduced by the editors of the critical edi-tion, Madrid, 1919.) As God begins, and we may also add, ends, with a certain definite purpose, so does St. Ignatius, and so too will his disciple. In fact, we are invited to intend just what God intends. Between God and us there are to be no cross-purposes. Moreover, and especially, one should seek, not a part of what God intends, but all of it, and to work it out always by using precisely the means and method preferred by God: what is this but to have just the same plan as God? Praising and reverencing God is substantially the same as glorifying him. Striving for the greater glory of God, "Ad majorem Dei gloriam," is very probably what the name of Ignatius is most apt to suggest to most people who have some knowledge of him. It is well known that when-ever St. Ignatius wrote or dictated he was constantly referring to the glory of God. In the little book of the Exercises the glory or praise of God is proposed as the end no less than 33 times. In the Constitutions of the Society the reference occurs about 135 times in 247 pages (the edi-tion of 1937; so Lawlor, "Doctrine of grace in the Spiritual Exercises," Theological Studies, 1942, 524). Nor was the expression always on his lips only. Seeking to make God better known and loved was ever in his thoughts and aspirations and supremely strong and dominant among them. Hence explicit and uninterrupted aiming at the greater glory of God is a conspicuous mark of Jesuit spirituality. A similar and more or less equivalent idea that was a great favorite with St. Ignatius and occurs still more frequently is "service." "Lo-cutions such as 'to the greater service of God,' 'to the greater service of God and the help of souls,' and their like, are repeated 157 times in the Constitutions" (Ibid). Serving God is, of course, the same as work-ing out his purposes or extending his glory, and it may be said to be cen-tral in Ignatius's whole conception of what our relations and activities toward God should be. Some religious leaders would no doubt put prayer or even mortification in the central place; for Ignatius, everything, prayer, recollection, self-abnegation, and so on, must be subordinated to the glory and service of God. Intending what God intends, seeking his glory, serving him, all this implies the need and use of means. St. Ignatius is broad enough to re-gard all created things as these means. He is insistent, too, that they are Ignatian Spirituality to be used neither more nor less than in the measure of their utility with respect to the final end. In no way or degree are they to be sought for their own sake as goals if they be pleasant and attractive, and no repug-nance to a useful but disagreeable means is to be allowed to interfere with using it. To the noblest end the best means is always to be chosen. Hence, another celebrated term and idea of Jesuit spirituality: namely, indifference. Association with Christ A second leading principle in St. lgnatius's system is "Associate yourself with Christ as closely as possible," or "Know, love, and imi-tate Christ as far as possible." The divine purpose and plan become more specifically the program of Christ. All Christians, of course, strive to as-sociate themselves with Christ, or to know and love and imitate him, but not all in precisely the Ignatian way, that is, in the spirit of "The King-dom" and the "Two Standards." As we have seen, St. Ignatius likes to consider Christ as "Our Lord, the Eternal King," a prince who is organizing a military expedition or crusade, to conquer the whole world and bring it back to loyal submis-sion to its divine sovereign. He summons all good people to become re-cruits in his army, to share his warfare, and then to rejoice with him in the fruits of victory. Both the royal commander and his soldiers are to live and fight under the same conditions of toil, combat, and suffering, that subsequently they may enjoy the same glories of victory together. The motives for enlisting are considered so attractive that nobody with good sense could decline; one would at least join the expedition as a com-mon soldier. But with this degree St. Ignatius is not at all satisfied. In view of the singularly magnetic qualities of the Leader and the ex-cellence of his cause, any with a spark of spirit about themselves will volunteer for distinguished service. They will be glad to show their love and affe~ztion by offering themselves for deeds of greater value beyond the call and strict.requirement of duty. They will i~ot wait to be attacked, but will themselves take the offensive and carry the war into the enemy's territo'ry ("acting against"). In particular they will first make a perfect conquest of their own interior foes, and aggressively overcome their own "sensuality and carnal and worldly love." They will profess themselves ready to imitate their great king in bearing humiliations and poverty. It is, therefore, a cardinal principle of Ignatian spirituality that to the sum-mons of Christ the King one should respond with all the magnanimity and generosity that one can muster. The eager new recruit soon gets lessons in the basic principles of strat- "12 '1 Review for Religious, January-Februat3, 1991 egy of the leader and also of the enemy chief. These are presented in the colorful exercise called "A Meditation on Two Standards." They are further developed and enforced in rules for the discernment of spirits. Lucifer's tactics are to be understood well, and since they are insidious one is ever to be on guard against his deceits. His general ruse is first to seduce people into an inordinate ques~ for riches and honor, these be-ing indifferent, and then into pride and finally into all vices. The inten-tion of Christ is just the contrary, that is, by example and precept he in-duces people to cultivate the spirit of poverty, or even actual poverty it-self, to conceive "a desire for insults and contempt," to acquire the virtue of humility, and thus then to attain all the different virtues. It will be noticed that St. Ignatius makes great efforts to have his discipline look especially to two aspects of Christ's moral character, namely, his pov-erty and his humility. In the Constitutions of his order and in certain of his letters he adds a third great virtue, that is, obedience. At least for the members of the Society this gets so much emphatic commendation and insistence that it is in a sense the point in which Jesuits are supposed to specialize. The Third Mode of Humility The "third mode of humility" is so highly characteristic of St. Ig-natius's whole doctrine and so important in itself that it should, it seems, be proposed as a third leading principle. It is presented in the Exercises as the last disposition to be sought in the ideal preparation of soul to dis-cern and choose the will of God in ordering one's life. It is also the high-est point that one could reach in conquering self, in achieving the vic-tory over one's disorderly and rebellious impulses, and in bringing them into that order which the divine plan and the program of Christ require. In the first mode of humility one submits to God in everything that is of serious obligation. The second degree disposes one so to submit as to avoid not only venial sin but also every defect of indifference and hence all positive imperfections (failure to carry out counsels). In the third kind "whenever the praise and glory of God would be equally served, I desire and choose poverty with Christ poor, rather than riches, in order to imitate and be in reality more like Christ our Lord; ! choose insults with Christ loaded with them, rather than honors; I desire to be accounted as worthless and a fool for Christ, rather than to be esteemed as wise and prudent in this world. So Christ was treated before me" (Ex-ercises, 167). In a word, the perfect associate of Jesus makes oneself like him as far as possible, in all virtues, but especially, other considerations being equal, in poverty and humility. Evidently reverence and love and lgnatian Spirituality devotion to him can go no farther. Practically one prefers just what Christ prefers. To Love God A fourth leading principle in Ignatian spiritual training is "in all things to live and serve the Divine Majesty" (Exercises, 233). Every school of spirituality, merely to be Christian, must keep in the forefront the primacy of love. Some people have been disappointed that in express-ing the end for which God created the human person St. Ignatius did not mention love. True, it is not named there; but as surely and as fully as it enters into the divine plan and intention, it is there by implication. The constant desire, too, to choose only that which is most conducive to the end would involve much love for God. Even in meditating upon hell it is St. Ignatius's mind that love should have a certain priority: one prays "that if through my faults I forget the love of the eternal Lord, at least the fear of these punishments will keep me from falling into sin" (Exer-cises, 65). Throughout the second, third, and fourth weeks of the Exer-cises the prevailing general objective is to achieve, with an intimate knowl-edge and exact imitation, an ardent love for the God-man. The climax is reached in the celebrated "Contemplation to attain the Love of God" (Exercises, 230-237). Love shows that it is genuine by "deeds rather than words." It con-sists especially "in a mutual sharing of goods." On his part God pre-sents us with the whole gamut of creation, the totality of his external goods, and then in addition "the same Lord desires to give himself to" his beloved "according to his divine decrees." In grateful and gener-ous response one breaks out into the "Suscipe," relinquishing to the great Infinite Lover the complete possession and disposal of oneself. Every word in this magnificent exercise prepares one to love the ineffa-ble Divine Goodness literally with all the energies of one's soul and body and to demonstrate the truth of one's affection by really doing everything that pleases God and nothing that could displease him. Before working out the Constitutions for his Society St. Ignatius laid it down as the first principle thai it was not any exterior regulations that were to guide the order, but rather the interior law of love and charity that the Holy Spirit inscribes in the human heart. One of the Society's first rules is that its members should strive in all their acts to serve and please the infinitely good God for his own sake and with a view to re-paying his love and his immense liberality to them. Hope for rewards or fear of punishment are to have only a secondary role. God is to be loved in all his creatures, and conversely too they all in him. Review for Religious, January-FebruaO, 1991 A distinction has been drawn between two philosophies of love: one, called physical, emphasizes the tendency of love to base itself on unity and to proceed to ever greater union; it is seen for example, in the desire to be with one's parents or relatives. The other, termed ecstatic, empha-sized duality or division and the inclination in certain cases for a lover to go outside of oneself, as it were, or to give oneself up for the sake of the beloved; it is exemplified in the self-sacrifice of mothers for their children or of soldiers for their countrymen. Likewise attention has been called to two theological conceptions of charity: one, that of personal desire, we might say, considers the act whereby one wills the Infinite Good to oneself to be charity; so, for instance, St. Bonaventure. The other, that of pure benevolence, regards this act as belonging to hope and excludes such self-reference from charity; so Suarez; it would love God simply and absolutely for his infinite goodness or for himself. Corresponding to the'se two philosophical and theological views one may discern two general types of spirituality: the first centers around the direction of seeking greater union with God. It would find gospel war-rant in the text: "That they all may be one; that, as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I am in Thee, they also may be one in us" (Jn 17:21, Spencer version). It would like to save its life. A mystery of predilection for it is the Incarnation, the supreme union of God and man. It is illustrated in the lives and doctrines of Saints Augustine, Thomas, Teresa, John of the Cross, John Eudes, and many others. It makes for contemplation, and would like to "taste" or "enjoy" God. The second type of spirituality takes rather the direction of self-giving. It gets inspiration from the text: "Greater love has no one than this--that one should lay down one's life for one's friends" (Jn 15:13). It is glad to lose its life (Mk 8:35). Naturally the passion and death of Christ are favorite mysteries. Martyrdom would be its great consumma-tion. Representatives of this type are St. Francis of Assisi, Thomas a Kempis, Francis de Sales apparently, and certainly Margaret Mary Alaco-que. St. Th6r~se's idea of love was "to give all, nay, to give oneself!" Clearly with these latter, exemplifying the ecstatic tendency of love, and the pure-benevolence conception of charity, and the self-sacrificing type of spirituality, St. Ignatius and his school are to be ranged. The whole tenor of his spirit, with its climax in the third mode of humility, or in serving the Divine Majesty in everything, is not toward union, but serv-ice; not toward enjoyment, but sacrifice; not toward rest in God, but work for him (See De Guibert, ~tudes de Th~ologie Mystique, 239- 281). lgnatian Spirituality Union and Familiarity with God Finally, a fifth major principle in St. Ignatius's general method con-cerns union and familiarity with God. He was wont to formulate it in some such terms as these: "to seek God in all things"; "to find God in all things"; to be a pliable "instrument" in "the divine hand." In the Constitutions, IX, 2, St. Ignatius gives a rather long and par-ticularized account of what the ideal general of the Society should be. Naturally this picture is at the same time a characterization of the Saint himself. Among the qualifications required in a future general the first is as follows: "that he should be most fully united with God our Lord and familiar with him, as well in prayer as in all his actions." Similar prescriptions are made for others who are to be appointed to lesser of-fices (Epitome Instituti, No. 740). Thus the Founder showed his supreme concern that above all else members of the Society should cultivate the closest and most intimate union with God. The large place which work holds in the Jesuit ideal and the relations between prayer and work in it are highly characteristic. In no other school, as far as I know, is there so great a tendency to favor work at the expense of prayer. A deep foundation of mortification and solid vir-tue being presupposed, from, say, the novitiate, or some similar train-ing and including a thirty-day retreat, prayer is to be cultivated until one has the proper disposition, that is, the will to love God with all one's heart and to carry out the whole of the divine design for one. But then, in view of the grave necessities of souls and the needs of the Church, one should leave prayer and give all one's energies to doing God's work, saving and sanctifying others, long ago pronounced to be, of all divine things, the divinest. When one goes about one's work precisely as God's, doing just what he indicates, because he wills it, and in the manner that he wishes, it is relatively easy and natural to pass back and forth between prayer and work. Striving to do God's work according to the mind and in the spirit of God may be said to be itself not the least form of prayer. Faithful disciples of St. Ignatius are "contemplatives in action." To illustrate the union that should exist between one who works for God and God himself, a favorite comparison of St. Ignatius was that of instrumental adaptation. The human worker should be a completely pli-ant instrument in the divine hand. A perfect personal instrument would be fully sensitive and responsive to all the motions of that hand. To give one such instrumental flexibility is, according to St. Thomas, the ten-dency of the gifts of the Holy Spirit (I, II, 68, 3). The most exquisite docility to the Holy Spirit is a capital aim in the doctrine of one of the Review for Religious, Januat3,-Februat3, 1991 Society's most distinguished spiritual masters, Fr. Louis Lallemant. Distinctive Practices Certain practices are characteristic of Jesuit asceticism. Nowadays some of these are more or less universal in the Church. But in origin, or at least in their wide diffusion, they are due largely to the influence of Ignatius. Spiritual Exercises, Retreats Perhaps the practice that is most obviously distinctive of those who follow the Jesuit school is that they make retreats and attach great im-portance to them. And more particularly, they do it according to the scheme and sequence of exercises sketched out long ago by the knight-convert at Manresa. The Exercises were originally calculated to last for a solid month, and in this integral form they are made by all Jesuit nov-ices and again by Jesuit priests and brothers toward the end of their train-ing. Other Jesuits regularly repeat them in a condensed form for eight days every year. So also, for varying periods, do many who do not be-long to the Society and still make use of its spiritual aids. The numerous students in Jesuit high schools and colleges throughout the world make annual three-day retreats. Moreover many devout lay men and women make Jesuit retreats annually. St. Ignatius himself did not advocate regular retreats. The custom gradually grew in the Sogiety and was made a matter of rule only in 1609. It is very largely due to Ignatius's influence, directly or indirectly, that now the practice of making annual or regular retreats is for relig-ious and clerics a point of canon law and a received ascetical usage in the Church. The Particular Examen Another practice that was originally most characteristic of the Igna-tian approach is the particular examination of conscience. Essentially it is nothing else than using in the war with one's faults that ancient prin-ciple of strategy: "Divide and conquer!" In more modern and universal terms one might say that it exemplifies the rule: "Specialize! Concen-trate on a limited field!" The particular examen was always a great fa-vorite with St. Ignatius. It is now one of the common techniques of Catho-lic asceticism. Sometimes it is censured by men who concentrate all their scrutiny of it upon some minor detail or other in the method and over-look what is substantial about it. On the other hand, even some of the minor features of it have of late been getting commendation from sci- lgnatian Spirituality/17 entific psychologists. Direction A third practice that is distinctive in its way of Ignatian spirituality is its idea of direction. St. Ignatius considered it especially useful, if not necessary, to prevent one from falling victim to the illusions that may come either from one's own imagination and emotions or from the de-ceits and snares of the evil spirit. As compared with the older schools, St. Ignatius advocates, if I mistake not, a more thorough-going and a more methodical use of it. On the other hand, he did not employ it like St. Francis de Sales or others in seventeenth-century France. The Exer-cises were originally designed to be made individually with a private and experienced director and the exercitant was urged to be very frank and open with the director. In the Society it is expected that subjects should make themselves, even their innermost consciences, all their good and bad points, culpable or inculpable, fully known to their superiors or con-fessors and in return receive individual paternal guidance. Any eager ad-herent of Jesuit asceticism will, if possible, seek constant expert direc-tion from another in the problems of one's interior life. Complete can-dor of soul and docility toward a director or superior fit in very well with certain qualities of character that were particularly dear to St. Ignatius: namely, his preferences for mortification that is interior, of judgment and will, for prudence, humility, discipline, and obedience. Mental Prayer An outstanding mark of any system of asceticism is its doctrine on prayer. If one compares the modern theory and practice of prayer with the ancient or the medieval, one will notice great differences in the rela-tive positions of vocal and mental prayer. The changes had been coming of necessity in the historical evolution of the spiritual and the religious life. In determining the actual extension and form that they have taken since the sixteenth century the influence of St. Ignatius, direct or indi-rect, was a major factor. In making the Exercises and then later in striving "to arrive at per-fection in whatever state or way of life God our Lord may grant us to choose" (135), it is considered most vital that one's soul should be filled with "the intimate understanding and relish of the" great Christian truths (2). Often enough people refer to the first method of mental prayer in the Exercises, the one there named from "the three powers of the soul," as "the Ignatian method." As a matter of fact, in that little booklet the Review for Religious, Jamlao,-February 1991 Saint proposes at least six methods, and this one, used for the consid-eration of abstract truths, is almost immeasurably outnumbered by the "contemplations," according to persons, words, and actions, that deal especially with the life and passion of Christ. Except when misconceived by ill-informed critics or misused by ig-norant persons, Ignatian methods of prayer do not hinder liberty of spirit or stand in the way of the Spirit's inspirations. It is the most rudimen-tary principle of Jesuit spirituality to keep the end clearly in mind, to pre-serve liberty with respect to the means, and to select and use the most apt of the means. Even in the Exercises, written especially for beginners, to aid them in the specific and passing task of rightly determining their vocation, the admonition is given: It "should be noted: . . . I will re-main quietly meditating upon the point in which I have found what I de-sire, without eagerness to go on till I have finished" (76). And again later on: "If in contemplation, say, on the Out" Father, he finds in one or two words abundant matter for thought and much relish and consola-tion, he should not be anxious to go on, though the whole hour be taken up with what he has found'" (254). Incidentally, one may notice that thus from the start St. Ignatius promotes the tendency to pause in contempla-tion rather than to busy oneself with discursive or analytic reflections. Outside of retreat time Jesuits and their followers may and should cultivate those forms of mental prayer, including the highest degrees of contemplation, that will most effectively advance them in loving God and in executing his designs. Naturally, of course, the prayer of apos-tolic workers will differ from that of cloistered Carmelite nuns. Similarly the inspirations of the Holy Spirit will be in harmony with one's divine vocation, not contrary to it. St. Ignatius was a great mystic himself, as his Spiritual Journal am-ply attests. In others as a rule be looked to solid virtue and mortification rather than exalted states of prayer. If we may generalize from a letter to Francis Borgia while the latter was still the Duke of Gand~a, that form of prayer is to be considered best in which divine favors are received most liberally: "The best thing for each particular person is that in which God our Lord communicates himself most freely, bestowing his most holy gifts and spiritual graces, because he sees and knows what is most suitable for him, and, as knowing all, he shows him the way . These gifts I take to be those that are not within our power, to have when we wish, but rather they are pure presents from him who gives and can do all that is good; for example . an intensification of faith, of hope, of charity, delight and repose of spirit, tears, intense consolation, eleva- lgnatian Spirituality tion of mind, divine impressions and illuminations, with all the other grati-fications and spiritual feelings ordained to such gifts" (Monumenta His-torica Society lesu, lgnatiana, Series i, Epist. et Instruct., 1548-50, 233- 237). With respect to mysticism, as in Catholic spirituality generally, so also in Jesuit spiritual teaching, it is possible to distinguish two histori-cal currents, the one decidedly mystical, and the other rather ascetical. To the first belong, for instance, St. Alphonsus Rodriguez, De la Puente, Alvarez de Paz, Caussade, Grou; to the second, Rodriguez, Roothaan, Meschler. Of the masters in mysticism the one best known is Louis Lallemant (France, 1587-1635). He was followed by a number of noted and influ-ential disciples. The work which presents his teaching, The Spiritual Doc-trine of Louis Lallemant, has traditionally been used in the Society to form its young priests in their year of third probation in much the same way as the ascetical Rodriguez is used for the instruction of the novices. Certain spiritual writers of the Society have been considered anti-mystical; among them are Mercurian, Rodriguez, and in a way, Scara-melli. When their statements are viewed against the historical back-ground, properly interpreted with allowances for changed terminology, and compared with the utterances of other authorities of their times, then the significance of the anti-mystical bias is seen to be more apparent than real. In any case, no matter how great it should seem to be, it is com-pletely outweighed by what other Jesuits have done for the cause of mys-tical contemplation. Moreover, no Jesuit ever went so far as to deny that one should fully develop his gifts of the Holy Spirit, welcome every in-fusion of grace that God should wish to give him, and then eagerly make the most of it all. In the recent controversies over the nature of infused contemplation, its place in the general economy of the spiritual life, and the call to it, there have been Jesuits on both sides. Self-Abnegation The lgnatian and Jesuit practice of mortification is very different from the ancient and medieval austerities, and it in turn appears to have had great influence in determining what the use of it should be in the mod-ern Church generally. Now, evidently, bodily penances do not occupy so prominent a place in the total scheme. They are more consciously and more narrowly subordinated to the greater and superior elements in the spiritual life. The employment of them is muchmore under the control of directors and confessors. There is far greater tendency to seek the nec-essary self-abnegation in the hardships of community living and espe- 90 / Review for Religious, Januarv-Februar\, 1991 cially in laborious work for souls. The body is spared much punishment and in exchange it is expected to become a more effective instrument for the spirit. In principle lgnatian mortification is as austere as one could wish. The indifference of the Exercises implies that one should be willing, when-ever the divine purpose or plan requires it, to forego the most pleasant means or undergo the use of the most unpleasant. Self-conquest and self-control are to be so complete that no movement of the lower propensi-ties can draw the deliberate will after it. Asking Christ, crucified for one's own sins, what one should do for him and then giving the decent answer to one's questions also includes the utmost degree of self-crucifixion. The noble knight's response to the summons of Christ the King and Captain involves the fullest oblation of self, and in particular the firm determination to take the offensive in waging war on one's own sensuality and worldliness. Finally the climax of self-abnegation is reached in the third mode of humility: preferring, other things being equal, the poorer and humbler things just to be more closely united with Christ poor and humiliated. One of the rules that St. Ignatius left for his sons is that their chief pursuit should be to seek in the Lord their greater mortification and, as far as possible, constant self-abnegation. In dispo-sition of will he exacts as much as St. John of the Cross does, but his manner of doing it is much less forbidding, as it in turn is harsher and less attractive than that of St. Francis de Sales. In applying the principle or in practice St. Ignatius would have disciples be careful not to injure their health or diminish their bodily forces and interfere with their spiri-tual development or ability to work efficiently. The outcome has been that Jesuit direction and influence have tended greatly to moderate the use of corporal inflictions by pious people. The interior mortification of the mind and will, in perfect obedience, for example, is assigned a large margin of priority. Devotion to the Sacred Heart A practice that is very prominent in modern Jesuit spirituality and cannot be said to characterize the original asceticism of St. Ignatius is devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. In the revelations made to St. Mar-garet Mary, Christ expressed the desire that cultivating the devotion and propagating it as widely as possible among all the faithful should be a special charge of the Society of Jesus. The Society, whether in its supe-riors or its members generally, has always felt that this commission was peculiarly in keeping with its primitive spirit, and hence has been glad to do whatever it could toward making the heart of its great Leader and Ignatian Spirituality/21 King better known and loved¯ Any means to win hearts to Jesus is wel-come, and this devotion to his loving but neglec ted heart is a most at-tractive and effective one. Fostering and deepening their own dedication to the heart of Jesus ts considered by all Jesmts to 15e one of the best meas-ures that they can take to sanctify themselves anld. to vivify their apos-tolic activity. One could not be a student in a Jes,6it school or amember of one of their parishes without being under a certain constant urging to honor the heart of Christ. Great multitudes of the faithful daily make the offering of all their works and sufferings in union with the intention of that heart¯ Nor could one read very far in modern Jesuit spiritual litera-ture without finding much that gives it all a turn toward loving the heart of the Savior. Distinctive Traits Modernity is a mark of Jesuit spirituality, obviously in the chrono-logical sense, and especially also in that its genius is not ancient or me-dieval, but in harmony with the modern Catholic mentality. Negatively, and by way of "going against," it has animated men who were in the forefront of the Church's war against Lutheranism, Calvinism, Jansen-ism, and Quietism. Positively it possesses certain points of affinity to mod-ern social conditions. In contrast to the Middle Ages, Catholics now are in a more hostile milieu, and an aggressive type of spirituality befits them. Men and women cultivating the supernatural life now as a rule get less help from cloistered seclusion, live in the turmoil of large cities, are required to give more attention to action and less to contemplation, and lastly must be educated as well as devout. For the loss of the cloister Jes-uit spiritual training compensates in various ways, all designed to make up in interior individual strength for the external aids that had to be given up. From "the Kingdom" and "the Two Standards" on, it is thor-oughly orientated toward living and struggling in the midst of groups. Its connections with the active life in the Church and education need no comment. Another note of Ignatian asceticism is its high degree of organiza-tion. It is hardly conceivable that one could become well acquainted with the Spiritual Exercises or the Society of Jesus and their spiritual system without remarking what a complicated but strictly unified order or method characterizes all three of them. No other school of spirituality is so consciously methodical and insistent about prudently arranging means to ends. From a military office one might expect well-thought-out strategy. However, the aim of it all being union of the human spirit 99 / Review for Religious, Janttat3,-Februat3, 1991 with the divine spirit, there is nothing mechanical about it. Ignatian spirituality is conspicuously and eminently apostolic. Typi-cal is the injunction said to have been given by him to St. Francis Xavier when dispatching him to the Orient: "Go, and inflame the world!" Jesuit asceticism is eminently practical. There is nothing theoretical about it. It emphasizes above all the actual accomplishment of the divine will and purpose. Doing the will of the Father is always possible, feasi-ble, and most fruitful. The directives given are clear, precise, and am-ple, but not more restrictive than the divine plan itself. Personal initia-tive is encouraged, and it is suggested, with both St. Augustine and St. Thomas (In Mt XXV, 15), that where there is more effort, there also there will be more grace. Natural means are cultivated and exploited to supernatural ends. A peculiarly distinctive mark of lgnatian spirituality is the milita~3, and chivalrous note that runs through it. Don lfiigo Lopez de Loyola was born and brought up an aristocrat. By profession he was an army officer. Early sixteenth-century Spain was still tense with the spirit of the crusades. Upon the soldier's conversion divine grace sublimated to the supernatural sphere his knightly ideas and ideals. The very title of the Exercises states that they prepare one for "the conquest of self." Of all those exercises his two favorites were "the Kingdom" and "the Two Standards," both of them thoroughly military and crusading in in-spiration. The Society of Jesus is dedicated to "waging war for God un-der the standard of the Cross." It was conceived as a sort of shock troop to be thrown into battle wherever the Church's danger seemed to be worst. Its name originally was, and as a matter of fact in several lan-guages still is equivalently, "the Company of Jesus." It was its first su-preme commander's great aim to be himself, and as far as possible to make everyone else, "a noble knight of Jesus Christ." Another note that appears to characterize lgnatian ascesis is a cer-tain dynamism; that is, in a special sense it is marked by force, power, energy. There is not much about it that is gentle, tender, or mild. St. Ig-natius himself was naturally a virile personality of great earnestness and intensity. He came into the history of the Church at a most critical turn-ing point. In particular, the early Protestants were preaching the depre-ciation of good works. An emergency situation called for the most vig-orous reaction, and that is just what the Saint's magnanimous nature in-clined him to. In our days he has been reproached by Henri Bremond with being, "not a master of prayer, but a professor of energy." He would have his disciples share in God's own eagerness to communicate lgnatian Spirituality/93 his goodness and in the Eternal King's ardor to conquer all souls. The feeling dominant in the Jesuit spirit is not one of seclusion and peace: rather it is a sense of war and battle. Nor is it one of quiet study or contemplation: it is rather an air of tenseness and activity. Nor is it one of want or suffering: instead it is an eagerness to make use of things and to get a great task done. "Ad maiorem Dei gloriam" suggests this fact: it points to the incessant, irrepressible, dynamic, straining for ever greater and greater accomplishments for God that the Jesuit sets as his goal. Finally, to conclude, we might sum up Ignatian and Jesuit spiritual-ity in some such terms as these: the first and basic principle is to pursue the divine purpose and plan; the central principle, to know, love, and imi-tate Christ as fully as possible; and the last and highest, "in all things to love and serve the Divine Majesty." ANIMA CHRISTI--aTraditional Prayer Soul of Christ, sanctify me. Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from the side of Christ, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O good Jesus, hear me; Within thy wounds hide me; Suffer me not to be separated from thee; From the malignant enemy defend me; In the hour of my death call me, And bid me come to thee, That with thy saints I may praise thee Forever and ever. Amen. Spiritual Exercises I Loyalty as Liberation: Ignatius of Loyola and Pedro Arrupe at La Storta Parmananda R. Divarkar, S.J. Father Parmananda Divarkar, S.J., served as one of four General Assistants to Fa-ther Pedro Arrupe, who was Superior General of the Society of Jesus from May 1965 to September 1983. Father Arrupe was well-known among all religious since he served as President of the International Union of Superiors General for five consecu-tive terms. Father Divarkar can be addressed at St. Marys: Mazagaon: Bombay 400010: India. The last public statement of Father Pedro Arrupe, which may well be re-garded as his testament, is the homily that was read out for him at a sol-emn Eucharist on the 4th of September 1983. "It is in many ways fit-ting," the text begins, "that at the conclusion of my ministry as Su-perior General of the Society of Jesus, I should come here to La Storta to sing my Nunc Dimittis--even though it be in the silence imposed by my present condition." The little chapel at La Storta, on the outskirts of Rome, is tradition-ally associated with a very special experience of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, "that God the Father placed him with Christ his Son," while on his way to offer to the Pope the services of the group of young men that had gath-ered around him. This chap, el and the memories it evokes were for Fa-ther Arrupe an inexhaustible source of inspiration and strength in the midst of the many challenges he had to face in the difficult period fol-lowing Vatican II. Ignatius recounts his experience in what is popularly known as his autobiography but is, in fact, an untidy collection of reminiscences cov-ering just one third of his life. He did not actually write anything but spoke out his story, in bits and pieces and under trying circumstances, 24 Loyalty as Liberation because of the insistence of his disciples who desired that before he died he should compose an account of his intimate dealings with God, which might serve as a model for future Jesuits. Such a document, he was told, would be his testament, and to produce it would be truly to found the Society of Jesus. In the language of today, the demand was for an authori-tative statement of the charism of the founder--and that is what stands out clearly in an otherwise clumsy text. All through the narrative one sees that Ignatius had a veritable gen-ius for loyalty--even a felt need to be loyal, to find a person or cause that might claim his total devotion. As a young man he is constantly get-ting caught up in unrealistic ambitions, and not even the sobering expe-rience of a shattered leg can break the spell that holds him captive. But some accidental reading reveals to him the true object of his ceaseless quest: it is Christ. In his encounter with Christ, Ignatius experiences the paradox of loyalty as liberation. Loyalty is something that binds, but loy-alty to Christ is a liberation from all that hampers true and total growth. For through intimate union with Christ one comes to share in his own experience, of God as Absolute and all else as relative. This is the truth that makes for freedom. As the story proceeds, each succeeding situation brings to Ignatius the realization that commitment to Christ carries with it other commit-merits-- which may seem to tie him down once again, to be a restriction, but are experienced as a further release, as new opportunities calling forth fresh generosity: loyalty to Christ means loyalty to the Church, loy-alty to the Church means loyalty to the Pope . After many adven-tures, accompanied by singular graces, the process of bringing his loy-alty into ever sharper focus comes to a peak point in a mystical experi-ence at La Storta, of the Father placing him with the Son, of the Son bear-ing the cross and inviting him to service, of a promise that the power of God would support his little group in Rome. This group of recently ordained priests, who had earlier called them-selves Friends in the Lord, took it for granted that once they had fulfilled their resolution to be at the disposal of the Pope for any task he might entrust to them, their fellow~ship would end in dispersion. But, at the very point of parting, they realized that their mutual loyalty, the bond that held them together, had never been a bondage but rather a liberation of their latent talents and the very condition of their availability for serv-ice. So they decided to remain united both in spirit and as members of one body, even when they scattered. Paradoxically, the very thing that would have separated them--their commitment to the Pope--became Review for Religious, January-February 1991 "the basis and chief foundation" of a new religious order, compact but mobile: so the Society of Jesus was established on the principle of loy-alty as liberation. Father Arrupe has an intuitive grasp of this principle, and a lived ex-perience of its validity. Herein is the clue to the distinctive feature of his personality that stands out among all his admirable qualities and charm-ing traits: an unshakable attachment to whatever is'fundamental and a fear-less openness to all that is relevant. This it was that put him so finely in tune with the formula for the renewal of religious life proposed by the Second Vatican Council: fidelity to the foundational charism and adjust-ment to present circumstances. It explains his great popularity and ef-fectiveness as a spiritual leader in the post-conciliar Church--as well as the incomprehension and rejection he met in certain quarters. Not all could understand that adherence to the old and acceptance of the new were not two things for him. So some were alienated by what they perceived as inconsistency, while others followed him erratically, without the delicate balance and unflinching loyalty that characterized Arrupe himself--who was free, bold, and innovative, not in spite of be-ing traditional, but precisely because he held on so tenaciously to the sources of his being. Speaking at a thanksgiving on the completion of fifty years as a Jes-uit, he made a simple profession of the triune loyalty that ruled his life-- to Christ, to the Church, "and to the Society of Jesus. He named them in reverse order and called them his loves: three loves, flowing one from the other, feeding each other, and united in one loyalty that embraced everything and everyone. It pained him to see people, Jesuits especially, caught in a conflict of loyalties. Conversely, he could not hide his joy in the midst of sor-row on the several occasions when his men met with violent death in fi-delity to their mission among the poor. His big concern as General was to bring the Society to an ever greater fraternal unity and apostolic fruit-fulness through a deeper understanding and a more meaningful practice of Ignatius' ideal of loyal service. A small but significant expression of this concern was his desire and effort to get Jesuits all over the world interested and involved in the proper renovation of the chapel of La Storta, which had been badly dam-aged and poorly repaired during World War II. He had the joy of seeing this satisfactorily accomplished just as he retired from office. But the oc-casion was signed with the cross--as was the original experience of Ig-natius. Father Arrupe's closing years are marked with many kinds of suf- Loyalty as Liberation / 97 fering. It is a bittersweet consolation, and a potent inspiration, to think that what he did not entirely succeed in achieving in a decade and a half of earnest striving, he in large measure obtains at the end through the manifold pain he bears with such fortitude and submission. When in the wake of his crippling stroke there came the papal in-tervention in his government, many people--Jesuits and others-- thought that the move would split the Society of Jesus--indeed would splinter it, with bits flying in all directions. Nothing of the sort happened. Rather the contrary: the reaction, led by Arrupe, but universal, was one of faith and fidelity. There was a renewed sense of belonging together, and a rallying around the banner of the cross "to serve the Lord alone, and his Bride the Church, under the Roman Pontiff." For countless Jesu-its, the challenge to identify themselves with a Society that lay in sor-row and humiliation was a supremely purifying and enlivening experi-ence: an experience of loyalty as liberation, with a wholesome impact on the whole Church--a parting gilt, a legacy from their much-loved Gen-eral, who said at the conclusion of his homily at La Storta: What was for Ignatius the culmination and summing up of so many spe-cial graces received since his conversion, was for the Society a pledge that it would share in the graces of the Founder in the measure in which it remained faithful to the inspiration that gave it birth. I pray that this celebration, which is for me a farewell and a conclusion, be for you and for the whole Society represented here, the beginning of a new period of service, with fresh enthusiasm. May the collaboration of the whole Society in the renovation of the chapel of La Storta be an abiding sym-bol and an unfailing inspiration for a united effort at spiritual renewal, trusting in the graces whose memory is enshrined in La Storta. I shall remain at your side with my prayers. The Changing Self-God Image of Ignatius of Loyola William A. Barry, S.J. Father William Barry, S.J., is currently rector of lhe Jesuit community at Boston College. His address is Jesuit Community: Boston College; Chestnut Hill, MasSa-chusetts 02167. ~]~'e have become accustomed to describing the developing relationship of a person with God in interpersonal terms. I have tried such a descrip-tion in a monograph on Jesuit formation where I spoke of prayer as con-scious relationship and then attempted to describe the development of that relationship in terms of the dynamic of the Spiritual Exercises. ~ Those of us who use such a framework often use a form of what Freudi-arts call "object relations theory" and apply it to the relationship with God. According to this theory, we all carry around with us self-other sche-mata learned in our interactions with significant people. With these sche-mata we approach all new people. Such a theory serves to explain in-stant likes and dislikes. A new person is assimilated to an image of some-one in my past life whom I liked or disliked. The theory is also used to explain how people get into repetitive destructive relationships without ever learning from experience. These schemata are self-other psychic structures; they are relational in nature because they are learned through relationships. In other words, the images with their associated feelings and thoughts are of the self in relation to another and others. All our self-images are relational. According to this theory, we also meet God with learned self-God schemata which derive from our relationships with parents and others, from teaching about God, and from past experiences of the Mystery we call God.z These schemata are always distorted and untrue to the reality 28 The Changing Self-God hnage / 29 of who God really is for us. In other words, our experience of God is impoverished because of our self-God schemata. We could say that the development of the relationship with God consists in the learning of pro-gressively more realistic images of self and God in relationship through the actual encounter with God in sacraments, prayer, and life in general. The development could be seen as a process of losing our idols or false images of God (and self) through the encounter itself just as the actual encounter with a new person in our life will teach us something new about ourselves and that person if we let the relationship develop. While these ideas have become more and more commonplace for those of us steeped in the psychological culture of our age, we do not expect such psychological theories to color the descriptions of older spiri-tual writers. The question is: Can their experience of the relationship with God be understood in terms of such a theory? Recently I had occasion to read The Autobiography of St. Ignatius of Loyola3 with some under-graduate students in a class on Jesuit spirituality. I believe that the expe-riences Ignatius describes in the first three chapters of that work can be understood in terms of Ignatius' progressive education about his relation-ship with God. In other words, the changes he describes can be under-stood as changes in his self-God schema. In the course of demonstrating this thesis we will discover that Ignatius, who calls himself the pilgrim in the Autobiography, shows himself to be a pilgrim from an impover-ished image of God to an image of God as Lover pat" excellence. In the process his own self-image changes as well. First, let us note that Ignatius' initial conversion experience came about through noticing the difference between two sets of daydreams as he convalesced from his wounds and the leg operations those wounds en-tailed. In one set of daydreams Ignatius spent hours on end imagining the great deeds he would do, the fine words he would say to win the heart of a great lady. In the other set Ignatius spent equally long hours dream-ing of the great deeds he would do for Christ in imitation of saints like Dominic and Francis. He notes that there was a difference in the two ex-periences. When he was thinking about the things of the world, he took much dclight in them, but afterwards, when he was tired and put them aside, hc found that be w~s dry znd discontented. But when he thought of going to Jerusa-lem, barefoot and eating nothing but herbs and undcrgoing all the other rig-ors that he saw the saints had endured, not only was hc consoled when hc had these thoughts, but even aftcr putting them aside, hc rcmaincd content and happy. Hc did not wonder, howcvcr, at this: nor did hc stop to ponder Review for Religious, January-February 1991 the difference until one time his eyes were opened a little, and hc began to marvel at the difference and to reflect upon it, realizing from experience that some thoughts left him sad and others happy. Little by little hc came to recog-nize the difference between the spirits that agitated him. one from the de-mon, the other from God."~ In these two sets of daydreams the same vaulting ambition, the same vivid imagination are at work, but to different ends. The reading of the life of Christ and of the lives of the saints piqued Ignatius' interest and fired his imagination much as did the romantic literature he so enjoyed and would have preferred to read during his convalescence. Finally he noticed that the two sets of daydreams have different emotional conse-quences in his heart, and then he discerned that one set is from God, the other from the demon. With this decisive discernment Ignatius was set upon a new path, but he was not yet a new person. The rather amusing story of his encounter with the Moor on the road to Montserrat shows how far he was from be-ing a man of discernment.5 He and the Moor, both riding donkeys, got into an argument about whether Mary was a virgin after the birth of Je-sus. Perhaps the Moor felt that Ignatius was getting hot under the collar; at any rate, he spurred his mule on at a fast clip so that he was lost to view. Ignatius began to wonder whether he had done enough to uphold Mary's honor, whether he Should have struck the Moor with his dagger. He could not decide whether to follow the Moor and strike him or leave him alone. In his quandary he decided to let the mule make the decision by letting the reins go slack. The mule did not follow the i'oad the Moor took. We will never know what turn history would have taken if the mule had followed the road to the Moor. What was Ignatius' image of himself in relation to God at this time? A telling phrase occurs in the passage where he recounts his desire to enter the Carthusian house in Seville. But when he thought again of the penances he wished to do as he went about the world, the desire to enter the Carthusians cooled; he feared that he would not be able to give vent to the hatred that hc had conceived against himself.~' That self-hatred tells us much about his image of God at this time of prepa-ration for the journey that would end up in Manresa. If Ignatius hates himself so violently, we can speculate that he harbors an image of him-self before an implacable God. Not long after his arrival in Manresa we hear ominous hints of where such a self-God image can lead. Each day he begged alms in Manresa. He did not cat meat or drink wine, The Changing Self-God hnage / 3"1 even though they were offered to him. Hc did not fast on Sundays, and if they gave him a little wine, he drank it. As hc had bccn very attentive in taking care of his hair, as was the fashion at that time (and he had a fine head of hair), he decided to let it grow naturally, without combing or cut-ting it or covering it with anything by night or day. For the same reason he let his toenails and fingernails grow because he also had been attentive to this.7 He began to attack his body and his former attitudes with reckless aban-don to the point where he did permanent harm to his health, as he notes later. It is at this point that he mentions the serpent-like image that "gave him great comfort." "He found great pleasure and consolation in seeing this thing, and the more he saw it the more his consolation in-creased. When it disappeared he was saddened."8 Ignatius did not make the connection with his earlier discernment when he noted that the day-dreams of doing knightly deeds delighted him during the dreaming, but left him sad afterward. Moreover, he notes that around the time when this vision began, "a harsh thought came to trouble him by pointing out the hardship of his life, as if someone was saying within his soul, 'How will you be able to endure this life for the seventy years you have yet to live?' "9 With this temptation began the great swings of mood which led him into the terrible bout of scruples which he so poignantly de-scribes in the following pages of the Autobiography. The agony of his struggle with these scruples brought him to this point. Once when he was very upset by them he began to pray with such fervor that he shouted out loud to God, saying, "'Help me, Lord, for I find no rem-edy among men nor in any crcalurc, yet if I thought I could find ih no labor would be too great for me. Show me, O Lord, where I may find it: even though I should have to follow a little dog so he could help me. I would do it. "" While hc had these thoughts, the temptation often came over him with great force to throw himself into a large hole in his room next to the place where he was praying.~° The self-hatred has taken a very violent turn. What kind of image of God lies behind such scruples? It has to be a God who, in the words of the psychiatrist J.S. Mackenzie, "is always snooping around after sin-ners." ~ Ignatius felt that he had not completely confessed his sins. At one point a confessor ordered him not to confess any sins of the past "'un-less it should be something very clear. But inasmuch as he thought all those things were very clear, this order was of no benefit to him . "~- God must be a terrible judge ready to pounce on every sin. Finally, Ig-natius had a couple of days in which he felt free from scruples. 39 / Review for Religious, Januao,-February 1991 But on the third day, which was Tucsday, while at prayer hc began to re-member his sins one by one, and he went on thinking about one sin after the other out of his past and felt he was required to confess them again. But after these thoughts, disgust for the life he led and the desire to give it up came over him. In this way the Lord wished to awaken him as from a dream. 13 , Ignatius, we can speculate, has realized that the image of God with which he has operated thus far in Manresa was a product of the demon, and not an image of the true God. From the lessons God had given him hc now had some cxpcricncc of the di-versity of spirits, and he bcgan to wonder about the means by which that spirit had come. He decided very clearly, therefore, not to confess anything from the past anymore: from that day forward he remained free of those scru-ples and held it for certain that our Lord through his mercy had wished to deliver him.~'~ God is not implacable, but merciful, and Ignatius can count on this God. Thus he need not continually grub around in his mind for possible un-confessed sins. Immediately after recounting this discernment Ignatius describes how he rather easily discerned God's will in two matters which before would have led to agonizing indecision. He prayed for seven hours each day, but when it was time for bed, he was overcome with great spiritual con-solations which cost him much sleep. Wondering about this at times hc thought to himself that he had assigned much time for converse with God and all the rest of the day as well, and he began to doubt, therefore, whether that enlightenment came from a good spirit: he concluded that it would bc better to ignore it and to sleep for the appointed time. And so he did.~5 How his image of God has changed! In the next paragraph he describes how an experience of the image of meat compelled him to abandon with-out any hesitation or doubt his firm practice of never eating meat. Even when his confessor asked him to consider whether this was a temptation, Ignatius could not doubt that the good spirit was the source of the im-age. He then says: "God treated him at this time just as a schoolmaster treats a child whom he is teaching,''~6 and goes on to describe in five points the ways God revealed himself, culminating in the description of the extraordinary enlightenment on the banks of the Cardoner. After this experience he recognized the image of the serpent-like figure as a temp-tation. The final demonstration that the encounter with God changed lgna- The Changing Self-God hnage / 33 tius' self-God schema comes from the very next paragraphs where Igna-tius describes three instances when he faced death. The first occurred at Manresa when a fever brought him to death's door. He was convinced that he was about to die. At this a thought came to him telling him that he was just, but this caused him so much trouble that he rejected it and recalled his sins to mind. He had more trouble with this thought than with the fever itself, but no matter how much he strove to overcome the thought, he could not do so. Somewhat re-lieved of the fever so that he was not at the point of expiring, he began to cry out loudly, calling him a sinner and reminding him of the offenses hc had committed against God. ~7 Contrast this experience with the next one he describes. He was on ship from Spain to Italy and in a storm everyone on board was convinced that death was inevitable. At this time, examining himself carefully and preparing to die. he was un-able to be afraid of his sins or of being condemned, but he was greatly con-fused and sorrowful, as he believed he had not well used the gifts and graces which God our Lord had given him.~s Now Ignatius knows that he is a sinner, and that knowledge saddens him but it does not frighten him. He trusts in the mercy of God. The self- God image seems to be that of a person who is convinced that he is a sinner loved and forgiven by an all-merciful God. Then Ignatius describes a time in the year 1550 when he and every-one else were convinced that he was about to die of a fever. At this time, thinking about death, he felt such happiness and such spiritual consolation at having to die that he dissolved entirely into tears. This hap-pened so continually that he often stopped thinking about death so as not to feel so much consolation.~9 Now Ignatius seems to be enamored of God, totally caught up with the desire for ultimate union with God. Thoughts of his sins do not seem to arise. The self-God image seems to be that of beloved to lover. God has taught Ignatius the ultimate lesson of who God really is for Ignatius, and for all of us, Loverpar excellence. Fidelity to the relationship with God has changed Ignatius' image of God as well as his image of himself. Ignatius urges the one who directs the Spiritual Exercises to "per-mit the Creator to deal directly with the creature, and the creature directly with his Creator and Lord."2° In that encounter with God the retreatant can learn a new and more realistic self-God schema. All of us have sche-mata that impoverish our experience of God and, thus, of ourselves. In Review for Religious, January-February 1991 his Autobiography Ignatius shows himself as a pilgrim from a small view of God to one of God as Lover. Ignatius believed that the same change can happen to us. NOTES ~ See William A. Barry, "Jesuit Formation Today: An Invitation to Dialogue and Involvement," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 20/5 (November, 1988), pp. 5- 8. 2 See Ana-Maria Rizzuto, Birth of the Living God: A Psychoanalytic Study (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979). 3 Translated by Joseph F. O'Callaghan and edited by John C. Olin (New York: Har-per & Row, 1974). '~ Ibid, p. 24. 5 Ibid, pp. 30-31. 6 Ibid, p. 25. (Italics mine.) 7 lbid, p. 33. 8 Ibid, p. 33. 9 lbid, pp. 33-34. ~0 lbid, p. 35. ~ Quoted in Henry Guntrip, Psychotherapy and Religion (New York: Harper, 1957), p. 195. ~2 Ibid, p. 35. ~3 lbid, p. 36. ~'~ lbid, p. 36. ~5 Ibid, p. 37. ~6 lbid, p. 37. ~7 lbid, p. 40. ~8 /bid, p. 40. 19 lbid, pp. 40-41. 20 Louis J. Puhl, trans. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola Uni-versity Press, 1951), No. 16. A.M.D.G.: Dedication or Directive? Walter J. Ong, S.J. Father Walter Ong, S.J., well-known writer of articles and books and long-time pro-fessor at St. Louis University, wrote this article for the September 1952 issue. His reflections on the A.M.D.G. motto remain just as timely today. His address is Jes-uit Hall; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. By a kind of irresistible momentum, as an expression becomes more and more widely circulated in the form of a byword or motto, it tends to lose its original identity. There is an externality attendant on all human com-munication, which is involved with the external senses and spoken words, and this externality becomes only aggravated on the lips of a crowd. By the time an expression becomes widely quoted, its sense tends to be controlled not by the purpose of those who originally drafted it, and gave it. its identity, but by the shifting kaleidoscope of external con-ditions. Thus Polonius' "Though this be madness, yet there is method in't," when it is quoted today, takes its meaning from the current signification of method as fixed by our interests and way of living, not from what Shakespeare meant when he wrote it and what his contemporaries under-stood. Today it is generally taken to mean that Hamlet's madness was directed to some ulterior purpose. But Shakespeare was referring rather to the interior organization of tl-ie speech Hamlet had just uttered--mad as it sounded, this speech gave evidence of being coherent, of being logi-cally organized in the way speeches should be. Literary history is strewn with stock 6xpressions whose meanings are lost in such easygoing misinterpretations.' This is true of secular litera-ture, but perhaps more of spiritual literature, for the fortunes of a spiri-tual expression are even more precarious as the very terms it deals in are 35 Review for Religious, Januat3,-Februat3, 1991 more elusive and fraught with deeper implications. When we try to give them close attention, to discover their real iden-tity, spiritual sayings have a way of tripping us up unawares--and the tripping up is done not only by what we might take for recondite spiri-tual maxims but by what are downright spiritual commonplaces. It comes as a shock for us to realize that the particular manner in which we em-ploy even so basic a motto as the Ad majorem Dei gloriam, or "To the greater glory of God," associated with St. Ignatius of Loyola does not quite correspond to the older use of the term. More and more, this phrase has come to be used as a motto or de-vice which is affixed as a sort of dedication to objects--to books, per-haps, or to banners or to buildings. Certainly, against such procedure no valid theological or ascetical objection can be urged. But it is worth not-ing that this procedure does represent a significant shift in emphasis. It represents a kind of externalization, as A.M.D.G. becomes a dedicatory motto for public proclamation. In such cases, the A.M.D.G. is felt as applied to the thing, used as a sort of spiritual rocket attachment to shoot the creature off Godward. Certainly, this is as it should be. Still, it does not quite represent the basic lgnatian use which reserves the phrase rather for interior applica-tion and prefers others .for publicity purposes. While it is true that the A.M.D.G. has roots in Christian tradition far older than St. Ignatius, so that we cannot expect his use to control the whole economy of the maxim, nevertheless, since the maxim as it is used today traces chiefly to him it is worth noting the nature of the current divergence. To do so, we may start with an actual incident. Some years ago, a non-Catholic friend of mine admonished me for not putting A.M.D.G. at the head of my letters to him--as, he said, all the other Jesuits who corresponded with him always did. Of course, in my letters to him I have used the initials ever since, but not without wondering whether the other Jesuits used to bludgeon me into the practice have not themselves been dragooned into it first by this intrepid promoter of Jesuit conformity. For the fact is that not a one of the Jesuits I I~now normally writes A.M.D.G. at the head of his letters--not when he writes to me, at any rate. It is simply not the general practice of Jesuits todo so, and apparently never has been. A strange fact, if A.M.D.G. is to be taken as a dedicatory motto. The reason is to be sought in history and tradition. As is well known to readers of her correspondence, St. Teresa of Avila had the practice of writing "Jesus" at the top of her letters. An odd motto, we may A.M.D.G. / 37 think. Not even a phrase. Just one word. Still, this, and not A.M.D.G. is the motto with Ignatian antecedents. It occurs over and over again at the head of St. Ignatius' letters published in the Monumenta lgnatiana, as A.M.D.G. does not. Similarly, the seal of the Society of Jesus from earliest times im-pressed or printed on books or documents or other objects bears not A.M.D.G. at all, but again this simple word "Jesus," abbreviated in its first three letters which, written in the Greek alphabet, are simply the "IHS" known to everyone as the monogram of our Lord. It is the seal, this "Jesus," on the title pages, and not the A.M.D.G. which serves to identify early Jesuitica. "Jesus" is the dedication which is applied to objects. Things, like men, are to put on Christ. This is one dedication, it should be remarked, or one motto, which is both easy and thought-provoking. What is more, as one simple, mys-terious word, it defies distortion. A second word might offer a purchase for applying pressure to this one and thus make distortion possible. But left alone, the mysterious Name retains its self-possession. Unalloyed, isolated, the name of Jesus becomes proof against the externalization which threatens everything that human expression touches. Thus, Jesuits fail to use A.M.D.G. to head their correspondence to-day because such usage has no place in their tradition from the very be-ginning. But this is far from saying that the A.M.D.G. is not central to the Catholic tradition of spirituality which flows through the Society of Jesus. On the contrary, the expression has its principal relevance and ap-plication at the very heart of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, which define this tradition. The relevance here is deeply interior, for here the Ad majorem Dei gloriam is referred to the individual soul at what we may call its extreme depth. It concerns the crisis within the individual consciousness which is the moment of decision, the moment when we make up our mind, the crisis so deep as to precede not only exterior ac-tion but even interior action as well, the crisis in which is set the act of the human will--"the selfless self of self," as Gerard Manley Hopkins has it, "most strange, most still." As their title is at pains to explain, the entire Spiritual Exercises are focused at these strange, still depths of decision within the soul. They have as their purpose to enable a man to make a decision as he should, without being swayed by things he should not be swayed by--"without being determined by an affection which might be badly ordered,~' the title of the Exercises states. St. Ignatius is at his most painstaking when, after the first two "weeks" of preparation, he finally comes to discuss 38 / Review for Religious, Janua13,-Februal3, 1991 how, in order so to make a decision, the individual must keep his eyes fixed on God. The discussion comes in the part of the Exercises called "Three Sorts of Humility," which bulks so large in his mind that Igna-tius does not treat it as a simple meditation in the way in which the ma-terial up to this point has been treated. Rather, introducing it here, he says that this material on three sorts of humility is to be pondered over the whole day through. This material is the last item in the Exercises before the "election" itself, the making of the decision toward which the whole Exercises are oriented. As the exercitant leaves the three sorts of humility to embark on the election itself, the state of mind which he has, with God's grace, prepared for himself is such that he is now to take his clue from God, and from God alone. In the last of the three sorts of humility he consid-ers, St. Ignatius envisions this preoccupation with God in all its present richness, at the point at which the depths of the individual soul are touched by the depths of revelation and of the Incarnation itself, which hereupon becomes an inseparable part of the Christian's way of making a choice. In the last analysis here, so much is the soul to take its clue from God and from God alone that the fact that God has decided on the Incar-nation, which means on a way of doing things more difficult than might otherwise have been, predisposes the soul to clutch to itself the difficul-ties rather than the easy things it encounters. The great manifestation of God to the world, the Incarnation, as St. Paul insists (Ph 2:6), began in an emptying-out of the Word, a step toward difficulty as, for the first time, one of the Persons of the Blessed Trinity became capable of suf-fering. The soul, eyes only on God, can never forget this initial determinant and dominant factor in the whole of the Redemption. The resulting state of mind can be called indifference in that it regards directly God alone, and not creatures. But in a sense, it is not indifference, because, in this vision of God, seen in terms of faith and the Incarnation, created reality is now included by virtue of God's own choice--Christ's body and soul are in the direct line of vision. They are testimony to the fact that, for reasons we cannot fully comprehend, God himself was not indifferent-- he chose to "empty" himself into a human body and soul, chose to be able to suffer when this was not necessary at all. The soul wants to copy God, since God is the End to which means are to be adapted. Regarding creatures as means in the light of natural reason alone, it can be indiffer-ent to them. But regarding them in the light of revelation, the soul sees A.M.D.G. / 39 that Christ's use of means involved more ,~uffering than seemed neces-sary. The result is a permanent torque boira s~ i,n the soul, an inclination toward what is difficult after the manner of Christ--an inclination justi-fiable nevertheless, curiously enough, as indifference on the score that it is a torque induced not by the means at all, but by the End, Christ, who is God. The inclination is mysterious and cannot be discussed fully here, but its authenticity is certified by the fact that the difficulties we have in explaining it parallel those we have in explaining God's choice of means to his end in the Redemption. This inclination cannot quite translate itself directly into action, for suffering is necessarily passive, and the activity involved in the direct infliction of suffering, even on self, is not what St. Ignatius has in mind, for he says nothing about it here. But the inclination is none the less a positive inclination, for in the meditation on the "Two Standards" al-though there is question of being received in the band of those who en-dure actual poverty and of bearing injuries and embarrassments, St. lg-naiius directs the exercitant to pray positively and actively to be allowed to undergo these things. The mixture of activity and passivity is of a piece with Christ's passion, which was utldergotle by Christ, not inflicted on himself, but for which he offered himself positively by an act of his human will, and which was thereby a welcome means when it was pre-sented to him. Ultimately, the mystery here traces to the fact that the end is not suffering, but God, and that by the Incarnation God became in-volved personally in suffering. This inclination or bias toward what is difficult is the matter of the third sort of humility envisioned by St. Ignatius, and it is when the exer-citant has thus descended deep into the mysteries of Christianity to find the framework for the making of a proper choice that he encounters in full force the prescription Ad majorem Dei gloriam. Two ways of mak-ing the election or choice are reviewed by St. Ignatius, and in both the exercitant is counseled to let the determinant in the balance be God's greater glory. In the first way, the soul is to consider before God con-cerning the alternatives it is faced with, "what tends more to his praise and glory." In the second, it is again to consider what, in a similar case of various alternatives, it would counsel another to do "for the greater glory of God." "Greater," it will be seen here, enters into the scheme precisely be-cause there is question of comparing alternatives. The famous expres-sion is thus as central as it is to the tradition that comes to us through 40 / Review for Religious, Januarv-Februar\, 1991 St. Ignatius because it is inseparably engaged with the focal Ignatian ac-tivity of making a choice. That the expression is thus polarized as a prin-ciple of decision rather than as a dedication of existing reality can be con-firmed in this same part of the Exercises concerning the "election." For, in this very context, when Ignatius comes to speak of something other than the making of a choice, he drops the "majorem" to say that man exists "for the glory of God" ("ad Dei gloriam" in the "Vulgate" ver-sion, that rendered by Father Andr~ de Freux, S.J., into Latin accept-able to Renaissance humanists, which Ignatius could not write, but gone over and approved by the Saint himself) or "to praise God our Lord" ("ad laudandum Deum Dominum nostrum," in the "Literal" version made to keep close to St. Ignatius's Spanish by Father John Roothaan). Because of the focus of the phrase as a principle of choice, in the "To the greater glory of God," it is the "greater" and not the "glory" which receives the psychological stress, the glory being in a sense taken for granted: any action, and more particularly any action done for God, adds to God's "accidental" glory, that is, adds something to created re-ality and activity which can be referred to him. This reference of the "greater" is eclipsed when the phrase is understood simply as a dedi-cation, and a puzzle easily results. For, simply as a dedication, how can "To the greater glory of God" be preferable to the simple declaration "To the glory of God"? If an object is devoted entirely to the glory of God, what more can be asked. The puzzle here can give rise to strange answers, expressed or implied. There is an American city in which a large Masonic temple standing opposite a much larger Catholic university bears on its facade the dedi-cation "To the glory of God." Most of the Catholic university's stu-dents are conscious of the more familiar "To the greater glory of God." Do they fix their attention on the "greater" so as to construe the uni-versity's commitment to this motto as a brag, a gesture vaunting the uni-versity's activity in the face of that of the Freemasons across the street? Nothing could be further from the truth or from the spirit animating St. Ignatius, but the interpretation is inviting insofar as the fact is lost sight of that A.M.D.G. applies primarily to the depths of one's soul. Even there, it is a principle for making choices, not for congratulating our-selves on past choices we have made. The Spiritual Exercises are the earliest of Ignatius' own major writ-ings, and they determine the case of his further written work, as of his whole life. This determination makes it possible to observe the workings of the phrase Ad majorem Dei gloria~n on an even larger field than that A.M.D.G. / 41 of the Exercises themselves. The lengthiest of St. Ignatius' written works are the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, and in these the Ad majorem Dei gloriam occurs so often as to become almost a refrain. It does not lose its primary orientation here. This orientation toward the choice of one among various alternative means is patent enough when the phrase occurs in a place where the Con-stitutions do not determine a procedure in detail but leave the determi-nation to be made by the superior or by the subject in terms of the indi-vidual case--a thing they do far more often than persons who do not know them might believe, for St. Ignatius had a great distrust of strait-jacketed procedure. Here the Ad majoreJn Dei gloriam comes into its own, for it is posed explicitly as the instrument and directive for action, for meeting a time of decision and making a choice. For this, it avails in great things and in small. It is to be the princi-ple for decisions taken in the General Congregation of the whole Soci-ety of Jesus, which meets only on such important occasions as that of the election of the General (Constitutions, VIII, vii, I). But it is also a principle of ordinary day-by-day life. The Jesuit in his studies, wonder-ingjust what mixture of literary and spiritual conversation would be best with the other students he is thrown with, is told that he must measure his decision here, as the General Congregation must measure its deci-sion, by what in each individual case is "ad majorem Dei gloriam" (Con-stitutions, IV, iv, 6). Instances of like sort can be multiplied from through-out the Constitutions. The Ad majorem Dei gloriam is similarly oriented toward choice when it occurs in the Constitutions in places where the alternatives are not left free but a definite policy decided upon. This becomes clear when the phrase is seen in the light of what the Constitutions are and how they were written. The Constitutions are not meditations or doctrinal instruc-tions, but directives for procedure, and as such they are of their very na-ture determinations, matters on which the mind is made up, a decision taken. But if they are decisions, someone had to draft them in the first place, and it was St. Ignatius to whom the task fell. The accounts of St. Ignatius' life leave no doubt that the making of these decisions was not easy for St. Ignatius. In his own autobiography, as recounted to Father Luis Gonzales, he tells how he spent forty days coming to a decision on just two points alone, and how at these tires he was preoccupied singu-larly with God. Once the principle of choice is given and accepted in the full, it may still take labor to decide wha~ God's will really is, although we become more adept at this by spiritual maturity and by prayer. Hence, 49/Review for Religious, January-February 1991 when the Constitutions prescribe--as they do so often that it is superflu-ous to list passages--that a thing be done this way rather than that way "for the greater glory of God," we have in the phrase a reminiscence of the labor of St. Ignatius, an echo of the deliberation prefaced to this act of choice, which is protracted permanently in the Constitutions. Here it does seem that the phrase becomes almost a dedication, and, in a certain sense, it really does insofar as a dedication represents a kind of protraction of an act of the will made in the past. But if it is a dedica-tion, it is one of a special kind which arises out of what we may call a choice-situation. The apparently tautological "more" is a permanent re-minder of this fact. In this sense, the phrase is a useful reminder of a decision made for God, a means of protracting the decision and of keeping our attention on him. In this sense, too, used as a motto, the A.M.D.G. is perhaps a little disconcerting in the way it points to the interior of our own hearts. Inscribed on a building, it does more than point to the building and more than point the building to God. It points to our own interior life. In ef-fect, it says that this object represents somehow a choice we have made with our eyes on God. So long as this fact is kept in mind, the motto will notbe a perfunc-tory label. We cannot reverse the evolution of the use of this phrase, even if we should want to. Changes in emphasis such as this evolution repre-sents correspond to altered emphases within the reality around us and have behind them psychological and sociological drives which we would be hard put to counter. But the drift toward externalization here is some-thing we must always be ready to resist. It is good to remind ourselves that the A.M.D.G. is basically a directive concerned with something deep within us, with a focus of our being which none but God and our-selves can touch. It applies primarily not to buildings nor to books nor to letters, but to the brink of decision within us. "To the greater glory of God" is not a mere label, but the baring of one's soul. Finding God in a Busy Day David Keith Townsend, S.J. Father David Townsend, S.J., a member of the British Province of the Society of Jesus, is part of the staff of St. Beuno's Spiritual Exercises Centre. His address is St. Beuno's; St. Asaph, Clwyd; North Wales LLI7 0AS; Great Britain. [~]any of our current Western prayer-forms were first elaborated in earlier times, when people lived in an atmosphere of faith, and in a Europe which was Christendom. Such is the case with the examen. Until quite recently, in English-speaking countries, the examen was known popu-larly as The Examination of Conscience. Despite all attempts to modern-ize, rename, and generally rehabilitate the examen, by calling it the Con-sciousness Examen or the Daily Review of Life, its origins lie in an un-divided Christendom. Moreover, the examen owes much to its use by St. Ignatius Loyola, the sixteenth-century founder of the Society of Jesus, in his book the Spiritual Exercises. We do well to remind ourselves that we are not sixteenth-century Christians living in Europe at a time when an undivided Christendom was being rent asunder. Then, despite the religious quarrels, the vast major-ity of the citizens of Europe were Christian believers. The majority of those who were not Christian believers would tliemselves have been be-lievers in the One God. The existence of God was generally acknowl-edged to be real both in public as well as in private relationships. God was explicit. The Divine Reality was woven into every aspect of life, and at every level. The World of Today's Christian The God-pervasiveness of the past is totally unlike the atmosphere in which the twentieth-century believer lives. At least, it is quite unlike 43 44 / Review for Religious, January-February 1991 the secularism and individualism prevalent today in First World coun-tries. In earlier eras God was part of the atmosphere breathed. Then the reality of God did not have to be positively fostered. God was palpably present, not least in the hearts and minds of the people and in the shrines strewn throughout both town and countryside. Today, in the developed countries of the West, God is excluded from public relationships, except, perhaps, for great state occasions and other similar formal and cultural events. Perhaps, too, God is excluded in ef-fect from the majority of private relationships. There is a prevailing at-mosphere, if not of unbelief, then, certainly, of the suspension of belief. The atmosphere is not one of faith. At best, and perhaps for the most part, God is an irrelevancy. God rarely enters into the considerations of a person or of a group concerning the living of life or the making of decisions. For the major-ity today there is little awareness of the involvement of God in each and every aspect of life. For so many, it is not God-mindedness that lies at the center of their world and universe. Therefore, for the majority there is little attempt to discover what God might be doing in our own times. Neither individual Christians nor whole Christian communities are exempt from the effects of this lack of God-mindedness. Individual Chris-tians and whole Christian communities are not removed from the pro-cesses at work in society at large. Whatever can be said regarding sociopo-litical processes and their effect on the individual Christian applies with perhaps even more force to the churches and to any.groupings of Chris-tian people. The contemporary believer, as an individual and as a mem-ber of a particular Christian community, is not spared being influenced by the prevalent atmosphere which would relegate God to particular places, to particular times and circumstances, to particular types of per-sons, even, perhaps, to complete oblivion. Reality being what it is, a Christian's first task today, and the first task of any Christian group, is the fostering of a positive awareness of, and a sense for, the reality of God in life. Believers need to ensure that they bring into each and every aspect of life a faith in God's involve-ment in the world. The individual believer, together with others, can then strive to read the signs of the times. It then becomes possible to know what God's activity is, in the wider world, and in the more personal worlds of both individual Christians and the groups to which they be-long. Today Christians have to do battle lest practical unbelief increasingly and negatively affect their manner of living with God. As always, life Finding God in a Bus), Day / 45 itself will be the reality check on the truth of such a "faith-full" God-centered life. The truth concerning the centrality and authenticity of the Christian group's faith, as that of the individual Christian, will show it-self in action: in the quality of the decisions made, in the values inform-ing those decisions, in the relationships formed, and in the quality of the attitudes informing those relationships. These qualities will show them-selves as much in the public spheres of life as in the private. The examen itself can so easily degenerate without the explicit, posi-tive fostering and nourishing of this element of belief in God being pres-ent and at work in all of life, both personal and communal. It can de-generate either into that kind of harsh moralizing which does not need God and which suffers from the absence of the God of compassion. Or it can degenerate into an un-christian and self-centered form of self-improving. The experiences of those brought up in the past on the examination of conscience suggest that both forms of degeneration can all too easily occur. Both forms of degeneration are differing forms of idolatry. The idol has no place for the life-giving, creative Trinity. The True God is effectively ousted. Something humanly created attempts to replace the uncreated Trinity (see Psalm 135:14-17). With the self focus, of course, the examen ceases to be God centered, and so ceases to be prayer. The examen becomes barren. Hardly surprisingly the result was frequently a total abandonment of this particular prayer exercise. The Day: Divine Meeting-Place A help in this crucial self-composing in faith is to consider the day as the privileged place for the moment-to-moment meeting with God. Likewise, the day is the place where that meeting with God can fail to be effective. Then, in this latter case, although there is the presence of God to the believer, this presence is neither acknowledged nor recipro-cated. There can be then no specific and concrete awareness of the pres-ence of God to the believer. There can be then no specific and concrete awareness of the presence of the believer to God. What is said here of an individual Christian speaks with greater force when applied to whole Christian communities. Christians believe that God is being revealed continually. The work of creation and salvation does not cease. The divine activity continues in and through the places, the events, the groups, and the people of the day. If this is the case, it does seem rather important to look at this day in which Christians and Christian ggoups meet and fail to meet God. The day is the providential vehicle for this meeting. It is by means Review for Religious, Januap3,-Februat3, 1991 of this daily providence that an individual's commitment to God finds, and fails to find, its expression and reality. It is, after all, in the day that believers live out, and fail to live out, the appropriate response to that particular calling of God which we name "vocation." It is in the day that a Christian family, or other Christian group, lives out, and fails to live out, its appropriate response to its "vocation." The day is where God moment-to-moment exercises loving provi-dence over all, including this believer and this believing community. The day is where Christians allow, and do not allow, God to work the divine desires for them. The day is the place where believers respond, and do not respond, to the moment-to-moment calls to the love and service of those around. The day is where the Christian community lives out, and does not live out, in concrete detail, the implications of its own special calling and vocation. With the viewpoint and the perspective of a faith in God present and at work in the world and among all the peoples of the world, the succes-sion of days allows the believer to see whether and to what extent the various human communities, including that believer's own Christian com-munity, are responding to the calls to justice, love, and service. The in-dividual believer, challenged by the Gospel of Jesus, will sense how his or her own desire is touched. The Gospel stirs in the believer desires to respond to personal and world events in a more Christ-like way. That Gos-pel challenge and the promise of Jesus, shared with others, will revital-ize the Christian community, for the life of the world. How can a person, or a group of people living and working together, grow in awareness and sensitivity to the God living and working in their own world and life? The simple answer: Look back over the day.t Not just to look back in general terms, but to look back expressly seeking to find where God has been active for that individual in his or her own world and life that day. To look back to see where concretely and spe-cifically God has been present and active for that community. To look back, to see, and to share with others what is seen. The examen is a way of initiating and facilitating this inner dialogue for each individual. The examen can become a communal experience of God's goodness and presence when shared in the family or other Chris-tian group. The examen challenges the individual and the group as if to say, "How can you say you are living a Christian life, if you never re-flect on it?" Or, "How can you say you are doing God's will if you never look to see what it is that you really are doing'?" Or, "How can you say you believe in God present and active in the world for all peo- Finding God in a Busy Day / 47 pie if you never reflect on the divine meaning of each day?" Or, "You say you want to serve Christ, and you want to live a more Christ-like life; well then, reflect on how your day has been, and let the experience of that day teach you what it will." Believers and Christian groups claim that they have faith in God work-ing through the Spirit both in their lives and in the world. Unfortunately, only very few seem to reflect positively on this crucial fact. The examen is a short prayer exercise which can assist in developing in a believer, and within a Christian community, a greater positive awareness of and sensitivity to the presence of God. There develops a sense of the con-crete ways God has been working in him, her, or them during the day. This greater positive sense of God can lead the believer, and that be-liever's community, to a more accurate and to a more immediate re-sponse to the initiatives of God's presence as they occur moment-to-moment during the day. Christians can become much more finely tuned to the presence and activity of the divine, moment-to-moment during the day. The deeper sense of the divine allows the Christian and the com-munity to respond so as to become molded according to the desires of the Trinity, to become "God's work of art" (Ep 2:10). The examen, therefore, becomes a particular application of the Con-templation To Attain The Love Of God, found at the end of the book of the Spiritual Exercises (see Ex. 230-7). There, having made the full Spiri-tual Exercises, the retreatant prayerfully becomes aware of and contem-plates the reality of the Trinity present and at work in all of creation, in the struggle, in the effort, and in the disappointment, as much as in all else. In the offering "Take, Lord, and receive" (Ex. 234), of the Con-templation To Attain The Love Of God, the retreatant makes a commit-ment to live out that contemplative presence to the divine in ,the actual realities of daily life. The examen can become an examination of the extent to which the person's actual response to this moment-to-moment divine presence, ex-pressed in that offering of the Contemplation To Attain The Love Of God, is rooted or not in the realities of actual daily living. When, by the shar-ing of individuals, the examen is allowed to become the prayer of a peo-ple, a family, a community, a church, that Christian group will be con-stantly recommitting itself, from within its contemplation of the love of God present and at work in its communal life, to a profound communal service. In our own day We experience the godly social challenge and influence exercised by such Christian groups, for example the base Chris-tian communities. 48 / Review for Religious, January-February 1991 The examen can also indicate just how inclusive or exclusive is the life of an individual Christian or the corporate life of a Christian com-munity. A community's world, like a person's world, can be larger or smaller, embracing more or less, more self-centered or more other-centered. The examen can throw light on just how much or how little of the world is allowed by believers to reveal the Trinity at work. The examen, therefore, can be the instrument whereby a Christian or the Christian community is invited by God to widen the area of peo-ple, groups, places, and circumstances in which the love and justice of God, and the God of love and the God of justice, can be found. The ex-amen can become the instrument whereby the individual Christian and the Christian group are invited to make an ever larger self-offering. The examen can be an aid to believers becoming more greatly involved in the ever wider love of God wherever it is found. The love of God urges Chris-tians as individuals and as communities to a greater concern (see 2 Co 5: 14). Traditionally, there have been five aspects or moments to the ex-amen. On any individual occasion one or more of these aspects will pre-dominate. That being so, it is enough to say here that these five aspects are not a syllabus to be plowed through relentlessly on each occasion. On any one occasion of praying the examen, the believer, and indeed a Christian group praying the examen together, gives to any of these as-pects the time needed and desired. The examen is prayer. Therefore, the one praying the examen remains in the aspect where he, she, or they find what is sought without trying to hurry through the other aspects. The First Aspect: Gratitude Thefirst aspect is the fostering of an attitude of thanksgiving, or grati-tude. For the person or group developing such an attitude, there is noth-ing that has not been given. Here, therefore, Christians are not being thankful merely for those aspects of the day that have given pleasure whilst remaining unthankful for those aspects of the day that have not pleased. The believer is not picking and choosing what to be thankful about, in the sense of choosing some things, events, or people, but rejecting oth-ers. Some aspects of the day may, indeed, stand out positively from the rest. Here Christians, as anyone would, will be grateful for such aspects. But such thankfulness for what is gratifying does not exhaust what is meant by gratitude. In praying for gratitude Christians are asking to be responsive to a God whose nature it is to givel and to give freely and constantly. This Finding God in a Busy Day / 49 is the attitude of true humility and of spiritual poverty. The believer, the believer's family, the Christian community, and, indeed, the whole of creation, is always on the receiving end of gift. The believer has noth-ing except what is given. What is given is given to be enjoyed and to be shared. In gratitude for such gift, the Giver is received. The Christian will be trying to foster this sense of gratitude in her or his own personal life experiences. The Christian community likewise will be trying to foster a communal sense of gratitude in its life experi-ences. Those areas of life, of persons, groups, places, and events, which seem to lack gratitude will stand out in contrast. Into these areas the per-son and the community will endeavor to bring both thanksgiving and the God who is thanked. Christians will not restrict the fostering of gratitude to personal life experiences. Christians will want to foster an ever wider sense of grati-tude that will embrace larger society. Such positive social fosterings of gratitude in Christian people will raise an awareness of that lack of grati-tude which is part of the fabric and organization of wider society. Christians will notice where ingratitude, where possessiveness and greed, where pride and arrogance are at work in the world, in political and social decisions, in the way corporations and public life are orga-nized. Believers will see where God is excluded effectively from public life. Believers will notice who are the ones who suffer in consequence. Believers will see the destructive effects of communal avarice and ag-gression on the life of the very world which God has given as gift to all (see Is 45:! 8). Again the person of faith and the faithful community will endeavor to bring both thanksgiving and the God of gifts who is thanked into these social areas of life. The believer, in his or her own person, is God's most crucial gift. He or she is the gift by which all other things can be known, and known as gifts. The believer is the gift in which, and by which, the person's own giftedness can be known. Gratitude, or thanksgiving, is the attitude in which the believer acknowledges, and expresses, his or her own di-vine giftedness. Gratitude allows the believer to be gift in such a way that the Giver of the gift is also received. Without thanksgiving the individual will belittle himself or herself. When the creation which is that individual is despised, so too is the Crea-tor despised and excluded. It is obvious how important it is that grati-tude and thanksgiving be the very essence of a Christian community's shared life together. St. Paul's letters to the churches are full of such ref-erences. The Christian community's great gathering and centering of life 50 / Review for Religious, January-February 1991 is called the Thanksgiving, Eucharist. Persons with faith in the goodness of God cannot but want to prize that same sense of gift in others. Seeing the God-who-becomes-incarnate in any and every human face can have the effect of helping oth-ers to believe in themselves. Individual Christians with such awareness will be less likely to denigrate another. Christian communities with such awareness will be less likely to denigrate either individuals or other com-munities. Perhaps, even, the other individuals or other groups concerned will be less likely to denigrate themselves. Individuals, whether Chris-tian or not, with a sense of gratitude in themselves are less likely to ac-cept the denigration of others, since their affirmation and encouragement comes from "the God of all consolation" (2 Co !:3). This sense of one's own personal worth, together with the sense of worth of every other individual, as being God's handiwork and being made in God's image (see Gn 1:27), will automatically throw in relief the areas in private life and in public life where such worth is lacking or where it is being withheld. Again these areas are going to relate to particular kinds of people, particular groups, particular places, and par-ticular activities. Believers will notice the cruel effects of this version of ingratitude which would try to denigrate and undermine the sense of gift and the sense of worth in a human being, or, indeed, which would try to dispar-age whole categories of human beings. All too often we, as individuals and as members of groups in society, give worth and withhold worth ac-cording to our own immediate advantage and benefit, both as individu-als and as members of wider society. Only a God-given gratitude for all will inspire and challenge individuals and larger groups to a wider, less selfish, and less self-centered vision. It is in this moment of thanksgiving that believers spend the time that is required to become aware of their need to be grateful: to savor and be in touch with the giftedness of their own lives and living; to savor and be in touch with the God who gives, who gifts. In a world that has little practical use for God, and where aggressive consumerism, productivity, success, and achievement color all, this orientation of gratitude, in faith-ful receptivity to giftedness before God, the Giver of all good gifts (see Jm i :17), is all the more important. The very effort to become aware in gratitude helps counter any tendency to be God-forgetful. Gratitude, in fact and in desire, can help stop a person or a group of people relating to themselves, to other people, to other groups, to the events and to the places of the day in a largely self-centered manner. Finding God in a Busy Day / ~ As the effects of gratitude develop, so too does the awareness that social and political decisions affect people in similarly self-centered ways. There may grow in believers a practical commitment to greater jus-tice for all in society. Gratitude centers a person and a community on the divine reality. The individual, that individual's injustices and self-centered gratifications, and the selfishnesses of that individual's society can no longer form the center of the world. Similarly that individual's family, group or community, together with that group's own self-centered gratifications, selfishnesses, and injustices can no longer form the center of the world. Christians are opened to seeing gift in the unex-pected. Such people can be surprised by the God of surprises. This first aspect of the examen also helps put believers in a better perspective before all that has been going on in the course of the day. The attitude of thanksgiving helps center Christians on the Trinity at work moment-to-moment in the day. The word "Trini.ty" reminds Chris-tians that God is "community." To be caught up into the life of the Trin-ity is to be caught,up into the lives of all aspects of creation. To be caught up into the life of any part of creation is to be caught up into the life of the Trinity (see Mt 25:31-46). So Christians will become aware of the Trinity at work not only in private life, but in the wider life of society. Gratitude allows believers and believing communities to include more and more of life and society under the challenge of the divine benevo-lence and goodness. As gratitude, or the desire for it, touches people, so those people can enter into gratitude, and respond to it in ways that seem appropriate. It may be that an individual or a community will feel drawn to make a con-crete commitment to gratitude in some public or social manner. In some way that is real to an individual or to a community, an appropriate re-sponse will be expressed to the Trinity, to the God who gives: Father, Son, and Spirit. The Evangelist St. Luke puts the Magnifica~t (see Lk !:46-45) on the lips of Mary, the Mother of the Lord, as her appropriate response to her exulting in the great things the Lord has done for her, and following her "yes" of acceptance to the invitation of God's good-ness to be at the service of the Word. The Second Aspect: Light The second aspect is to ask for light. Since believers receive all from the gifting of the Trinity, believers ask from the Trinity the gift of wis-dom, the gift of being open to seeing as the Trinity sees. The

Issue 35.6 of the Review for Religious, 1976. ; ,,,,llllili,,,~,iililli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited by faculty members of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1976 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1976 Volume 35 Number 6 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVXEW yon RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REvmw voa RELICIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at $4th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Theological Reflection Donald J. Keefe, S.J. Father Keefe, on the faculty of the Department of Theological Studies; St. Louis University; St. Louis, MO 63103, has been a frequent reviewer in these pages. Presently he is on sabbatical leave and is residing in the Jesuit Community; Fordham Univer-sity; Bronx, NY 10458. Catholic Schools in a Declining Church, co-authored by Andrew Greeley, William McCready and Kathleen McCourt (Sheed and Ward, 1976) has attained a prominence in religious publication ,which is perhaps comparable to that of Hans~ Kiing's In[allible? An Inquiry. Their common success fol-lows a common formula: each purports to present a scholarly basis for a radical criticism of the institutional Church. Each is underwritten by a prominent figure in the Catholic world, Consequently, each has~a political significance which is independent of the intrinsic merits of its critique. Each has been given instant notoriety in th.e popular press and each, in its fashion, is symptomatic of what seems to be a pervasive dissatisfaction within Cath-olic academic circles regarding what are felt to be inappropriate responses of the Church to the contemporary world. Finally, each reflects a similar impatience with the "official" ecclesiology, one which understands the Church as "the sacramental sign of the Kingdom of God: KiJng's rejection of this ecclesiology, long since explicitl does not concern us here. Rather we are coficerned with the ecclesiology implicit in Catholic Schools in a De- ,clining Church, particularly insofar as this bears upon Greeley's judgment that the encyclical,.Humanae Vitae, is simply a disaster. Greeley's salient theological conclusion is that, by reason of a funda-mental failure in communication, the official Church, though, revivified by the reforms of Vatican II, has, in the publication of Humanae Vitae, entered 801 802 / Review ]or Religious,: Volume 35, 1976/6 upon a suicidal rejection of 'its own reality-in-history by rejecting the morality of artificial contraception; and this despite the fact that~ the greater part of the Catholi6 people find no impropriety in such practices. Certain normative presuppositions undergird Greeley's conclusion: .1 ) The Catholic Church is as fit a subject for sociological analysis as any other social .entity. It is quite as permeable to this kind of scrutiny'as, for example, would be the Democratic Party. 2) The actual meaning of events, as these occur in the history of the Church, is that meaning which this kind of investigation reveals. Thus, for example, an event is "disastrous" when its effects, as measured by sociolog-ical criteria, are found to be destructive. These presuppositions are merely expressions of the demand for auton-omy which every intellectual inquiry, regardless of its object, makes as a matter of course. Every science is in search of the unity of truth. The syn-thetic or conclusion-reaching aspect of any science is no more than an expression of confidence in the power of its own method to integrate into a comprehensive understanding all the scattered data which its inquiry un-covers. There.is a kind of arrogance associated with any disciplined attempt to understand, for it supposes an ability to transcend, to dominate, ultimately to comprehend its object. Such intellectual self-sufficiency at a naive level raises no particular theological difficulties. But when it is given sophisticated expression as a method O[ knowledge, it can become an ideology, one which would pretend to offer a comprehensive criterion of truth and reality that would be analogous to, and necessarily competitive with the Christian faith itself. Such methodologies in fact become ideological when they refuse to admit the existence of any truth, of any reality beyond their grasp. They become ideological when they place prior limits upon-what can be "known," upon what can be "true." Over the centuries of the Church's history, such ideological convictions have continually troubled the faith of its community. Such convictions have been woven out of the tangled threads of rabbinical Judaism, of the Medi-terranean mystery religions, of the He~llenistic philogophies which were contemporaneous with the early Church. With the dawn of the Middle Ages, the first introduction of Aristotle)~ logic prbvided a new challenge to the faith. In the late Renaissance, there was a c~omparableenthu~iasm for yet another powerful intellectual resource: "scientific method," with its ac-companying mathematics, began to be exalted as the ~nique mode of .access to certitude. By the end o~ the eighteenth century, this confidence had waned. The Romantic period then found in the humanistic study of history and in nascent sociology a new key to the human enigma. Truth is no longer to be r~garded as something "out there." Rather it is seen as the proper Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 1~03 achievement of human societies in history--a history which is fundamentally in human hands, open to human analysis and exhaustive comprehension. This, too, fed the formation of ideologies. Common to all such ways of knowing iS the problem of their "conver-sion." The value ofthese works of human intelligence is enormous, in-dispensable. How can they be conformed to the Catholic faith, enter into a Catholic intellectuality? The claim that they cannot be. so conformed is still heard, both from those who too much love and from those who too much fear the new learning. For those who love too much, such a conversion would put an end to the "autonomy of science." For those who "too much fear," such a conVersion would end by relativizing the faith. Perhaps the simplest reply to such claims is to point out their futility. The objection that the "conversion" of an otherwise autonomous method of scientific inquiry would write finis to its independence rests upon an outdated notion of scientific method, the philosophical roots of which were undercut by Kant.~The intrinsic dilemmas of this method were demon-strated half a century ago by Heisenberg's0principle of indetermination. In point of fact, Descartes' dream of a universal science remains a dream, a dream tied to a time now remote. In our day, it survives only as an ideology of a peculiarly old-fashioned sort, kept alive' largely by social engineers' such as B. F. Skinner with his form of determinism. In such hands, this ideology becomes a kind of salvation, scheme by which the unpredictability, the enigmatic character of historical humanity is remedied by the elimina-tion of those human attributes which permit the emergence of historical' novelty: freedom and personal responsibility. The reduction of humanity to fungible integers thus finally makes possible a mathematically accurate calculus and control of the human. Such an ideology is really nothing more than eighteenth-century,Enlight-enment optimism, which wasn't even taken seriously by its own proponents. They wouldn't dream of submitting themselves to this~kind of salvation-scheme. Yet it is precisely in the. proliferation of ~such salvation-schemes that there comes,to be most clearly evident scientific method's need for a radication in a faith which transcends it. On the other hand, the point of view we indicated above as that which fears the relativizing of faith by any application to it of a free inquiry has its exemplars in the long line of rigofists who have always been present in the,Church. First there were the Judaizers of whom Paul complains. There was Marcion in the next century, Tertullian in the third. There have been the ever-present battalions of "hypertraditionalists," those who fear that a free future must :be open to~ sin and corruption, and would, on that account, foreclose the.History of Salvation in the name of salvation itself, 'quite as would their counterparts, the social, engineers. But their historical pessimism is the less excusable because the faith they are zealous to defend 804 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 is precisely a faith in the Lord of History whose creation is good and whose presence in. the world makes its history to be salvific. It is then as illusory for the scientist to fear the conversion of his methodology to the service of the Catholic faith as it is perverse for the committed Cathblic unduly to°fear the scientific inquiry which such a .con-version would unleash. Still, the mutuality of science and. of the Catholic faith is easier to envisage than it is to achieve. While the sunny confidence in a salvation-to- be-wrought-by-reason has waned somewhat since the age of optimism that was' ended in the blo~d,soaked fields at Verdun and. the Somme in World War ~, the practitioners of the social sciences, however mindful they ¯ be of the oft-cited perils of "Helleriization," still tend, to be less than troubled by the demonic potential of~their own saeculum, by the resistance of their own cultural commonplace--scientific method t6 conVersion. Not a little of this resistance is the fruit of the recognition by Vatican II that the world is not alienated from the concerns of the Church. Indeed, the autonomy of the secular in its own realm is there explicitly stated, bring-ing with it the enfranchisement of the scholar to do his work without con-cern for received opinions among churchme.n in regard to matters which are properly within his province. In Vatican II, historical and social re-search were liberated from all pious dishonesty. Catholic confidence in the ultimate goodness of fallen historicity required no less. " Since that time, Catholics have become accustomed, as they were not before the Council, to a view of an historical Church "with warts on." For many, perhaps for most,~ this new outlook was traumatic. Accustomed hitherto to think of the Church in terms of such attributes as militancy, witness, inerrancy, historical unity and the like, they were suddenly con-fronted by the countering of these commonplaces with other assertions of the Church's' documented cowardliness, conformism, error, division and so on. Indeed, these wer, e not seldom presented as conclusive refutations of the traditional faith in the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church: More, and worse, these charges had a kind of ecclesial warrant--the "spirit of Vatican II." This spirit more and more often found expression in terms, of an active antagonism to the Catholic past. In particular, the validity of tradition and of the authority of the Church were challenged in the heretofore sacrosanct realm of sexuality. In this realm scarcely any element of the Church's faith or practice was without its learned opposition. In its opposition, argument rested not on historical research--for the.con-stancy of the moral tradition was quite clear--but upon what was con-sidered to be "the religious insignificance" of sexuality. From the vantage point of modern psychology and sociology, Catholic emphasis upon the sacramentality of sex, which found expression in the condemnation of certain sexual practices as being immoral, in the prohibition of clerical marriage, Catholic Schools in a Declining Church." A Reflection / 805 and of the ordination of women, was viewed as simply mistaken. Sociology and psychology were thought to provide a sufficient explanation for the origin of these, rules and 'condemmitions, while at the same time, these same disciplines,seemedzunable to find any present justification for con-tinuing such norms. Underlying such. conclusions was the presupposition that "whatever can be given a secular explanation must be so explained." Of course, this is a denial of the sacramental'significance of historical humanity. It represents a retrogression to thht .primitive mentality which .identifies religion~ with magic. In this' way,~, all holiness, all religious value~in the everyday, non-marvelous, commonplace human life in the world comes to be ignored. In such a circumstance, the Church has nothing to say to this~world; for the Church is seen to exist ,only~to provide :illusion for a dwindling clientele. Whoever would challenge the Churchqn such terms really cannot expect a heating' .The Church must~refuse the postulates of.iany science-become-idei~ logy. (3riticis .ms of the Church based on the validity-of such postulates do not bear upon reality. ,They leave .no common ground fore discussion. The authenticity of the Church's teaching and practice does not--and can~ notqwait upon certification from any secular tribunal. Greeley, oin his critique, like Kting, fo~-gets ,this, ~though not to, the point of the latter's explicit denial of the Church's sacramental and causal' relationship to the fulfilled Kingdom of God., Rather, Greeley~ simply does not advert to it. Still, the net effect'is the same.~When the Church is treated for purposes of the laboratory as' merely*an empirical datum, its sacramental character is ignored. The laboratory is not concerned with the truth and effectiveness of a sacramental sign. Yet the Chur~h,~can be understooddn her reality only insofar as he'r history is aqknowledged to, be the~uniquely effective sacra-mental instrument through which humanity, regardless of its historical di-versity, its contention and sin, is~ ultimately redeemed from its fallenness and raised to fulfillment by the.Lord of History.°tf this sacramental reality is not admitted at the outset, the,~Church becomes something debatable, a matter for dispute,, bringing us back to the format of what is, .after all, an obsolete apologetic: a profitless debate over the Church"s worthiness and/or unworthiness. In Catholic'. Schools in a De'clining Church, the worthiness/ finworthiness preoccupation is' mdni[est: the-Church-as-worthy is~,seen to be the-Church-as-popular. ,: ¯ ~- And yet, if it qs right to be wary of an ecclesiology which w~ould, sub-mit the Church to some .sup'erior academic wisdom, it would be quite an-other thing to conclude that the., Church need not respond .to criticisms which the academy cannot but, offer it. Conversation _between the two, however, can take place only where there is a foreswearing of,funda-mentalism On the one hand_and of doctrinaire scientism on the other. Only thus could there, come" into being a common universe of discourse. Necessarily~,ifivolved in this is a recognition by the Church that its doc- 806 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 trine is given historical utterance for the sake of beginning new discussion quite as much as for the sake of punctuating an antecedent one. Necessarily involved is a recognition by the scientist that, when .all his data are collated, the inferences they support must be_ framed as questions, and as problems, not as doctrine in competition with the faith. It is by no means easy to preserve the conditions for such an exchange. Good will is, only the first of these. Ultimately the demand of such condi-tions is met by the recognition of what is actually taking place in such_a conversatibn. It represents an interchange between the faith of the Church and the questing reason of its members '(,which is called theology). It repre-sents the transformation of an otherwise purely secular scientific interest, a transformation imperated by its application to the Revelation.which is given in Christ.In this application, a given discipline accepts as the object of its inquiry a reality whose truth cannot be utterly controlled by its methodology, which it can only approach in a posture which is fundamentally one of worship. When .this attitude of worship fails, the exaggerated claim bf autonomy is thereby taken up again, and the transcendence~ of the Church's truth, of its faith, is rejected out of hand for the sake of "truly scientific objectivity." When such a rejection is misunderstood by'th~ Catholic faithful, when it is presumed to be normative for the scholarly enterprise, the opposite extreme becomes unavoidable: the sacramental holiness of the world and the historical character of the worship of the Church are equally sup: pressed. And the conversation which was originally ambitioned disintegrates into mutual recrimination. The changes rung on this theme are indefinitely numerous. In sum,. they preface and. finally constitute an aversion for the historical faith of the Catholic community in favor of those alternatives whose name is legion. All of this has been remarked sufficiently over the centuries. In the abstract, it is easy enough to see the need for a mutuality between Church and academy, but the realization of such a mutuality is continually im-peded byo the fallenness which mars us all. We are, all and. always in the sway of the~emptation to revert to a pessimistic status quo ante in terms of which the revealed compatibility of God and man, of the Church and the world; of faith and reason can be shown to be absurd, a fiction that is unworthy of man and derisory of God. Thisois a universal failing: It is no more characteristic of the academy than 'of the cloister, of the chancery than of the market. In either case, reductively we are seeking to denature God's good creation by rationalizing and objectifying its sacramental truth and unity.~By such devices we frag-ment our world: We trivialize and compartmentalize our world into isolated bits. And this becomes prelude for dismissing from our lives~ actual his-torical meaning, its sacramentality, the holiness of its totality. Whether done in the name of an ecclesial or a secular piety, what is Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection / 807 achieved is a flight from the threatening mystery of our historical existence, from our need to be sustained in it by the Lord of History, and from our share in the crucifixion by which it is redeemed. Thus is worked out some very bad theolggy--and not only by theologians, but by anyone who pre-scinds, from the sacramental structure of reality for the sake of judging reality. A sociological examination 6f the Church simply cannot avoid at least an implicit theological component. If, .supposing it to have been clearly affirmed, an equation were to be drawn between the Catholic Church and the Aristotelian "perfect society," an explicit ecclesiology--however wrong-headed--- necessarily follows. If, on the other hand, one omits any definition of the Church, but then proceeds to analyze it precisely in the same way as one would analyze the United Mine Workers or ,the Democratic Party or the Marine Corps, in other words as an empirical organization of people, a group adequately understood as responsive to the laws which govern all social organization-- then the ecclesiology involved is. perhaps less explicit, but no less operative. In either case, the Church is measured by categories which are quite extrinsic to the worship which gives it its structure. The result for that older theology was a Church whose "perfection" was in contradiction to its involvement in the fallenness of history resulting in an antiseptic notion of a Church apparently immune to history. Comparable (if inverted) distortions in our own time profess to find the Church's patent~involvement in sin a fact entirely incompatible with its claim to transcendent sacramental stature. The contemporary excesses of this "low" ecclesiology are quite as responsive to the'preoccupations of its own day as had been the earlier baroque triumphalism--and with as little profit. The living Church cannot be understood by the use of devices which would separate its history from its meaning thiough a denial of either part of its reality. It is of course possible to concede these truisms and still resist their corollary: that the Church of .our daily encounter, with its monumental confusion, cowardice, ignorance and complacency--in sum, with all the ills the spirit is heir :to--can be and is the earthly community in which the risen Christ is present and active in the outpouring of his Spirit. Surely one may attend with sympathy Dr. Robinson's "but I can't be-lieve that!" Particularly is.it hard to give to such a.Church a cash value by admitting, even demanding, an infallible Magisterium'. Such notions, it may seem, were perhaps credible before the dawn of historical consciousness. But they can hardly survive our contemporary understanding of the social and historical conditioning of the Church. This~is indeed a very possible conclusion--especially if we forget that it is precisely from this kind of despair of the temporal and human as being the medium bf God's presence that humanity was lifted by the faith, first Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 of the Jews, and then of ourselves who are their heirs, in theJdord of History who is present to hiss, people. He is present to his people not as a timeless and universal principle,, but in his Covenant, by which alone time has unity and significance, and thus is history: sacramental time. The salvific content of the events of which we are a part is quite as hard to accept today as it was at Meribah. It is indeed hard to believe that the concrete deeds and words of the Church across the .ages constitute the unique mediation of the risen Lord, for the Church is so obviously trapped, blinded, sullied and fragmented by its own historicity, by its own involve-ment in Sin. But precisely such a belief is integral with the Catholic faith. It is simply not negotiable. It is no news that there has been a developing reluctance within Catholic academic circles to give full value to the ecclesial-historical character of our redemption in Christ. This hesitation on the part of the acaderhy had focused on the Church's assertion of ,doctrinal unity and authority. But it has since broadened its front to the. extent that tradition itself is held to be discon~ tinuous within its own history, whether we are dealing with the. historical unity of the Church's doctrine or its moral or liturgical tradition. Thus it is deemed to be discontinuous within its own history, intrinsically incoherent, without value or~significance~ for the present time. In,sum, the unity of the Church has no historical expression, according to this view. Consequently the historical record, whether doctrinal, moral 'or liturgical~ is of purely academic interest. It lacks the necessary unity to support its claim to sacra-mental significance. The heart of this argument, of course, is the ancient conviction of the incompatibil.ity of'~God and man, heaven and earth, the present time and the egchatological golden age of fulfillment. Its pseudo-Christian version, Gnostic in its roots, denies that the community Of sinners; which constitutes the Church, can be the effedtive symbol, the sacrament of the fulfilled King-dom of God. This denial relies upon the perceived incongruity between the sacramental sign, whichLis ~the historical Church, .,and the effect claimed for it: the completed and fulfilled redemption of humanity in Christ. It was the mistake of' the Counter-Reformation apologetic to contest this visible incongruity, even though it is simply indisputable. To pretend the contrary leaves the apologete open to all the sacred dishonesty which characterizes a triumphalist reading of Church history. It is .not.because the Church is Worthy that she is "the sacrament of our encounter with God." It is by virtue of the presence of the risen Christ in her historical worship that the Church has her reality and her mission, not by virtue of her own probity, nor by any "works" of her own devising. It is this insight, fundamental to any valid ecclesiology, which demands Of the Catholic scholar a subordination, of his critical method to~the prior truth of his faith together with~ a surrender o of an~y delusory intellectual Catholic Sch~ools in a Declining Church." ,4 Reflection / 809, autonomy. In this 'way, while maintaining as its object, the full sacramental reality of the historical Church, the scholar's inquiry also retains intact its full integrity. The radical consequence of a refusal or of a failure in this subordina~ tion of method is the equivalent methodological reduction of the ev~nt~ of the Church's history to merely empirical significance, and the: dissolu-tion of ~the sacramental value of these events. ,At such a point, any. re, sistance to this dissolution ~must then be accounted unscientific, irrational, unrealistic, benighted. Such resistance fails to justify itself before the court of scientific reason whose writ runs as ,.far as the mind may range. In such a context, when the Church, as the object of this kind of "scien-tific" scrutiny, claims, e.g., for its traditional sexual morality a trans-empirical and sacramental value, it is challenged to make manifest the .worthiness of its doctrine for the salvific role asserted for it~and,.of course, cannot do so. Its claim is then held .to be out of court, and. if it.is a~cepted at all, this is deemed a matter of private idiosyncracy, an affair de gustibus, not "really" true . ° In the criticism ,of Humanae l/itae presented in .:Catholic Schools in a Declining Church there is more thana little of this rationalist obscurantism. ~Instead of attempting to construct the sociological o theology which ,only Catholic.-sociologists 'are equipped to' offers,, this book provides merely a secular object of sociological investigation, a pseudo-church, one with which a secular methodology,~:may be entirely comfortable~ ~i~ This pseudo-church is' fashioned from., atoms oLempirical information gathered according to the canons of .that secular methodology. The struc-ture w~hich emerges from these atrms in their collectivity is entirely em-pirical. The resulting picture of the "church" is found, to no one's amaze-ment, to Square rather badly with the Church of Catholic tradition ~enunci-ated,, for example, in Lumen Gentium or Gaudium et Spes, and particularly with thb tradition repeated affew years later in Humanae Vitae. Among the particularly prominent discrepancies between the official Church of these documents~.and the empirical "c~hurch;' described by Greeley's team is the disrrgard on the part of.the latter of the sexual, moral, ity .~which was recently reatiirmed by Rome,. to which the Catholic hierarchy has subscribed. This, in its turn, must lead to; a dilution of that respect in which the teaching authority of the Church must'be held. ~ Greeley considers this .situation to be the result of a massive failure in communication in the. institutional Church. By reason of this, a badly informed pope came to insist, disastrously, upon a morality long since abandoned by his subjects. ~ . ~ Doubtless experts in the~fieid of his methodology will find reason to contest the adequacy of Greeiey's sampling~and analytical techniques. Per-haps they will reject the evidence of "decline" which this book infers. Review tor Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 Whether or not such deficiencies exist is not finally very important. No doubt a further examination of the data will contribute to the clarification of the structure revealed by the study and perhaps even require a recasting of previous inferences, thereby contributing to the accuracy of Greeley's findings. But no refinement of this methodology can bring it to bear upon more than an empirical entity. And when that entity is identified with the visible Church, a fundamental mistake has been made. If this mistake is insisted upon, it must lead to a rejection of the Catholic doctrine that the Church is a sacramental sign, having a significance which entirely transcends the empirical. This sign-visibility is the visibility of worship; ultimately, it is Eucharistic, the concrete historical actuality of the Eucharistic community, the visible structure of which is constituted by the sacraments of its worship. This c~mmunity, the Church, can no more be identified with the "church"~ discovered in Greeley's research than can th6 Eucharistic Lord be identified with the merely surface phenomena of the Eucharistic celebration. Such a refusal of this Catholic dbctrine of Church need be neither ex-plicit nor deliberate. In fact, this kind of rejection most frequently occurs inadvertently, when, for instance, a powerful new intellectual tool permits the achievement of results so impressive that its adepts forget that the faith transcends it, that the faith cannot be contained within it or be controlled by it. In the controversy which is bound to follow, a similar forgetfulness just as frequently afflicts their theological opponents. These, in rejecting the dominion of the new learning, tend also to ignore the possibility of its con-version, and so they, in their turn, underwrite the isolation of the Church from history. For a clear example of this, one need only recall the dispute between, the "old" theology and the "new" logic in the early Middle Ages. Such mistakes find their corrective in the conversion of the new device to the perennial task of theology, a process which, like all conversions, is always incomplete. While the sociological construct which emerges in Catholic Schools in a Declining Church' cannot be identified with the Church, it remains ~true that the people who responded to the questions of the study did so in the con-text of their actual involvement with Catholicism. If their response is to be given the kind of theological value and weight that Greeley suggests, it mtist be because the attitudes and opinions which~this survey reveals are under-stood as entering into the sign-which-is-the-Church, and therefore as an element of the visibility of the Eucharistic community and of its worship. In this c~ntext of Eucharistic worship, the reaction which Catholic Schools in a Declining Church has registered, whether .in regard to the value of°Catholic schools, to the changes introduced by Vatican II, or to Humanae Vitae, cannot be identified simply as the kind of Church consensus that Catholic Schools in a Declining Church: A Reflection constitutes the sensus fidelium, the living faith of the People of God. This is because the sacramental Church is a s.ign which is contradicted. Our living of the faith is not a clear and obvious thing, but rather is rendered obscure and enigmatic by the fallenness of humanity and of the world. We daily refuse the truth of the "good" creation; and that refusal continually finds its historical expression in the community of the Church in a failure of Worship. The Church's worship has its prior antecedent structure in the sacra7 ments. These are the form of authentic human existence in fallen history, and in their unity they constitute the sole criteria of visible membership in the Church. Their truth is that of mystery, i.e., it can be appropriated only through worship. ~But by this worship it is appropriated. And over the centuries, this appropriation emerges historically in the doctrinal, moral and liturgical tradition of the Church. This appropriation is also a continual conversion and enfranchisement of the People of God. That it does not fail is due to no excellence of the Church's members, but only to the promise and presence of Christ among them, by which they continue to be the Body of Christ, one flesh with their risen Lord~ That this union does not fail is therefore a matter of faith: neither its existence, its quality, or its extension can be verified empirically. Its worship is that of a community of sinners. Essential to it is that sacra-ment of repentance and reconciliation by which sin, as a personal concrete failure of worship, is acknowledged in an~act of worship by which 'personal solidarity with the Eucharistic community is given again. ~ The fortunes of this sacrament of reconciliation over the nearly two millennia of its history record the enormous resistance offered the Christian notion of personal moral responsibility. The primitive identification of "sin" and "crime" required centuries to reform.~The subsequent' privatizing of confession and penance began so to obscure the public aspect of sin as to reduce public morality once more to a mere obedience to law. In some Catholic circles, this tendency is now .so far advanced as to include the despotic proposition that "the law to be obeyed" is simply the public law of the civil society. In this view, the Church has nothing to say in re morali beyond a loving endorsement of ~the reigning pluralistic consensus. ~ Yet it is only through an existential familarity with the antecedent, mean-ing of-the holy that sin is recognized and acknowledged to be a violation of the human, of the sacramental existence which is structured by the Church's worship. This holiness, this human integrity is sustained and measured by this worship, and 'not otherwise. Only here does a valid consensus emerge as to the meaning of good and evil. This consensus, this discovery, keeps pace with the slow, reluctant response of the People of God, of the Church in its members, to its Lord and his Gift--which is to live in Christ, in light rather than in an undemanding darkness, in freedom rather than in a comfortable 1112 / R'eview ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 conformity, in history rather than without. significance. And finally, it is to live responsibly, rather than to abdicate that honor and burden in favor of a false transcendence which knows no .crucifixion and offers rio redemption. The pace of this pilgrimage is impeded by our straggling, by our desertion, our defection toward one or other mirage.~ This history of Exodus is our history--together with its' pain. All of us who think ourselves Catholic must hope to be within that his-tory, undergoing that reformation and salvation. But we cannot guarantee ourselves to be so, whether as individualS'or as representatives of the whole. We cannot suppose our personal assessm6nt of moral right and wrong to be definitive and assured. Particularly is this the case when.the mass of Catholic Christians have not yet come to terms with the Christian meaning of free-dom; when they tend still to'suppose that whatever is not forbidden by Church law or tradition is thereby moral, or at least morally indifferent. It is only when adult Catholics recognize, their responsibility for the realization into history of the truth of Christ and consequently acknowledge in prayer the possibility of their own wilfull violation of their own human symbolism, their own sacramental and historical reality, their~own inescapably sexual existence--it is only in this circumstance that they can form a Eucharistic_ consensus on this now excruciating question of' the consistency of the sacra-mental symbolism of marriage with that symbolism which is inseparable from artificial contraception, and upon a complexus of other questions of only lesser urgency which bear upon the sacramental truth~of human sex-uality. This condition is not now met. Only when it is met can the Church speak confidently 'upon these newly disputed points. The obstacle to such utterance .now is not that the twenty years since the discovery of "the pill'-', is insufficient for mature judgment, but that even now the basis for making the judgment is not clear--as Catholic Schools in a Declining Church makes very evident~ The Second Vatican Council indeed introduced changes in the Church. But the greatest of these is the most ignored: the quiet dropping of .the obediential "morality which was typical of Catholic moralists before the Council--and which, unfortunately, remains typical~ for many of them to this day~ Conformi~, rather than responsible personal participation in the worship of the Church, is still proposed as the basis for moral decision. The book under consideration~only joins a chorus long since formed. But it is still from the authentic experience of free Eucharistic worship and its achievement of ~free historical.truth that the Church must teach; the truth of Christ is available, on no other basis. This is the only information system there is. It falters always~ but it does not fail. ~ The Small Group in Religious Life William Barber, Ph.D. Dr. Barber is Professor of. Psychology at Eastern. Washington State College in Cheney, WA 99004. He also is a consulting psychologist with ot~ces in Spokane. Earlier drafts of this article were helpfully reviewed by Paul Fitter, S.J.~ Ellen Monsees, R.S.C.J., Henri Nouwen and Leo Rock, S.J. Introduction This paper analyzes religious community groups from a behavioral science perspective. "Commu.nity" here refers to a face-to-face living group, usually comprised of fewer than a dozen persons, whose members may ormay not include co-workers in one,s ministry: The attempt is to show how a group's psychological developmeiat, as a community relates to and interacts with the work of members in their apostolic ministries. There exists a ~vell-established theological basis for "church as com-munity,".~ much of which has. developed since Vatican 11,1 and a detailed historical and sociologi.cal rationale calling for intensive, committed com-munity group relationships has been presented recently by Fitz and Cada.z Leaders of. religious communities know about and agree attitudinally with the need for establishing strong and deep group relationships. . o It is the experience of the writer in providing consultation to leaders of religious orders and to particular groups of religious, that what is not known is how to integrate into religious life the concepts and skills needed to est~ib-lish strong, dynamic groups of religious. It is hoped that What follows~offers some goidelines, drawn from the be-havioral sciences, for bridging the gap between the theoretical and "the practical aspects of group development in religious life. 1Dulles, A., Models oi the Church (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974). -"Fitz, R. L., & Cada, L. J., "The Recovery of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELI~OUS, 34, September, 1975. 813 814 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 The approach will be to describe ways in which groups differ from col-lections of individual persons, to distinguish religious communities from other kinds of groups, and to show how a religious community becomes an organi-zation for meeting the personal needs and at the same time the apostolic purposes of its members. A psychological rationale for community life is offered along with concrete suggestions for effective religious community life. Assumptions A group becomes more than a collection of individuals when all mem-bers need one another to accomplish a common task or goal. A dozen persons sunbathing near each other on a sunny beach are not a group in this sense; but if together they respond to a cry for help from a sinking swimmer they become a group as they work together on their shared.task of rescue. Once their task is completed, the group ceases to exist as a group, unless the members should decide to form an association to provide beach safety, in which case they would continue to be a group. Thus, being together doesn't define a group, even though all members have the same objective (in° this example to acquire suntans). It is when members need each other for some collective purpose; it is when they become interdependent, that they become a group? A community, such as a religious community is a special kind of: group in that it attempts to provide for more than support for the accomplishment of external tasks. A community~ is a group which attempts to meet the human and personal needs of its members as well: physical needs for food and shelter, social needs for recognition and friendship, and what Maslow calls the "ego needs''~ for meaning, and self-actualization as persons? Thus, a collectivity of individuals may become a group: a group may become a community for meeting physical, social and ego needs of members. At this highest level of motivation--the ego needs for actualization and fulfillment~it seems a religious community as a group attempts to meet another nee.d, the idiosyncratic need to develop its own "identity." And a re-ligious community's identity must be considered in relation to its ministry. Identity and ministry are like horizontal and vertical aspects of a group's religious life. The Vertical Dimension As a person needs to grow in self-knowledge, so a group becoming a community is drawn towards a deeper, more complete sense of identity. This is like a "vertical" dimension of growth--reaching down inside to ex-plore, to observe and to reflect upon the sense of '"~who we .are," and then aBass, B. M., & Nord, W., Leadership, Psychology and Organizational Behavior (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), p. 39. ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., Motivation and Personality (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1954). The, Small Group in Religious LiIe / 815 to come back up to the surface to test and to listen to what is being said in response. What do we mean by the discovery of identity? We mean finding out., real desires and characteristics . . . and being able to live in a way that expresses them. You learn to be authentic, to be honest in the sense of allowing your behavior and your speech to be the true and spontaneous expression of your inner feelings.~ Community identity then becomes established through sharing informa-tio~ n" in response to the question 'Who are we'?" More specifically this means generating information from the senses, the emotions, the intellect, and from the spirit for those who believe in a faith dimension to life. Transactions that provide such information for a community have to do with interper-sonal exchange: Who are we for each other? What do we want from each other? What will we offer to each other? These questions are continually asked and responded to, as persons tyy to moye from being a "group" to becoming a "community." As these questions are asked and responded to, "data"--i.e., information about thoughts, feelings, wishes are made avail-able for sharing, and thereby become integrated into the processes of decision and choice. Research indicates that more data from members produce higher quality decisions and greater member commitment to carrying them out.~ The Horizontal Dimension Identity needs to be expressed in life outside the community group; it needs to be expressed in apostolic ministry. This is like a horizontal dimen-sion of growth reaching out, listening openly and reflectively and respond-ing to what one is called upon to do and be with others. In the words of Maslow: Part of le~arning who you are, part of being able to hear your inner voices, is discovering what it is you want to do with your life. Finding one's identity is almost synonymous with finding one's career, revealing the altar on which one will sacrifice oneself,r As there are points of diminishing return in gains from individual per-sonal growth experiences s.uch as psychotherapy or encounter groups, so too are there limits to the gains to be expected from a religious community's developmental experiences--those aimed at developing a group's identity dimension. Community relationships and activities have as their raison d'6tre the support of tasks that further the work of apostolic ministry. It is analogous " to a couple's love for on'e another, in that their relationship, their "com- ¯ ~Maslow, A. H., The Farther Reaches o] Human Nature (New York: Viking Press, 1971), p. 183. GKelIy, H. H., & Thibault, J. W., ',Group Problem Solving," in Lindzey, G. & Aron-son, E. (eds.), Handbook o] Social Psychology (Cambridge, MA: Addison-Wesley, 1969), pp. 61-88. rThe Farther Reaches, p. 185. 816 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 munity" in a sense, requires expression in accomplishing goals-~having and raising children, for example--in addition to developing the affective rela-tionship that draws and keeps them together. Such a relationship needs manifest expression in order to continue to grow. This does not mean each aspect of community life requires direct con-nection to members' ministries. On the contrary, support is often drawn from interludes from "tasks": activities of recreation, distraction and apparent irrele(,ance. It is important to remember the purpose for which the support is given: that is, the rationale and the dyna.mic force for religious community comes from the shared commitment of members to thee values and goals underlying their collective ministries. As such, community identity is incom-plete without outward expression; small group religious life is incomplete without being related to apostolic ministry for purpose and direction. Similarly, ministry needs cbmmunity. Ministry needs community: (1) to provi~le a support system for sharing, helping, caring; i.e., for providing "maintenance" for the work of ministry, and (2) to provide for the personal development of members for their own sake, apart ~'rom apostolic work roles. "For their own sake" must not be taken lightly. The intrinsic dignity and value of each person's humanity calls for emotional connection to sig-nificant others. This need, this expectation, can be responded to by persons who commit themselves to one another in community life In summary, it seems that religious community groups work on two "agendas"---one vertical, the 6ther horizontal--and these become interde-pendent. Work on the vertical (e.g., listening, sharing; and more systematic-ally at times, team building or role clarification interventions)~ allows the group and each member more to offer on the horizofftal, in ministries. ' Work on the horizontal, the ministries, enables the con~munity to insert it-self into the world. It brings the world through members' experience into the community in order (l) to infuse ndw life, (2) to offer new direction, and (3) to provide standards for evaluating effectiveness of effort. The result is a dynamic system in which energy and creative r~sources increase. The sy~stem is dynamic in that it generates energy, and it is self-renewing because of the interdependent, reciprocal', exchanging relationship between vertical "and horizontal dimensions. The Goal of Community: Synergy One cannot explore for very long questions Such as we have asked about the dynamics of community life and ministry without confronting the larger question: What should community experience be like? What is it we are searching for by our attempt to integrate identity needs with apostolic min-istry? Maslow was a student of the anthropologist Ruth Benedict and he draws upon her concept of synergy to describe activities within a group w,hich benefit both individuals and the group as a whole. Quoting Benedict, Maslow writes: The Small Group in Religious Lile / 817 I shall speak,.of cultures with low synergy where the social structure pro- ¯ vides for acts which are mutually opposed and counteractive, and cultures with high synergy where it provides for acts which are mutually reinforcing, ¯ . . I spoke o] societies with high social' synergy where their institution insures mutual advantage ]rom their understandings, and societies with" low social synergy where tile advantage o] one individual becomes a victory over an-other, and the majority who are not victorious must shi]t as tliey call. (Italics by Maslow).8 Note the images that portray sources of energy and strength in Bene-dict's synergistic group and that we strive for in the small community group: " . . . acts which are mutually reinforcing . " " . . . mutual .advantage frrm their understandings"; opposing activities whereby "the advantage of one individual becomes a victory over another. " (italics mine). The goal of small group religious community life from a psychological viewpoint is to tap and direct this energy to provide driving force toward purposeful objectives. And the content of Benedict's message i~ the syner-gistic communities offer understanding, support °and action and oppose win/ lose relationships among members. Criteria for Synergistic Community ~ One way to test the thesis offered: here is to observe and reflect" upon experience with alternate life styles among priests and religious. Certainly no single organizational structure' promises to bypass the struggles required to enable a synei~gistic community to grow. Comprehensive discussion is beyond the scope of this paper, but we wish to poi~nt to certain mechanisms that have been found helpful by some rdligious communities in developing open, prbblem-solving climates. Most of the traits mentioned require organi-zational consultation and experience-based learning methods to become operational.9 The starting point is the vertical dimension--to expand the experience of c~mmunity identity. Desirable characteristics and mechanisms have to do with group size, group norms, communication skills, information about members' ministries, shared prayer' and sacraments, and explicit contracts regarding time, tasks, territory'and role of members. A' small group of from four to twelve members enables differences in re-sources to be present and the opportunity for each person to become well known to the others¯ Norms--implicit rules governing behavior--must be developed to support the expression'of affection a~d warmth, confronta, lion and conflict, and to support bringing-in input and help for the group. Basic communication skills in paraphrasing, describing behavior, describing Sop, cit., p. 202. 'aBarber, W. H., & Nord, W., Healer RoleJ o[ Consultants and Need Orientations o] Clients (Spokane: Eastern Washington State College,~mimeo, 1975). Barber, W. H., and Lurie, H. J., "Designing an Experience Based Continuing Education Program," American .tournal o[ Psychiatry, 130, 10, 1973. 818 / Review [or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 feelings and giving and receiving personal feedback, facilitate interpersonal communication. Some initial didactic experience is useful, and the develop-ment of norms to support the use of communication skills in day-to-day practice is crucial. Since feelings about s'elf are strongly influenced by feelings about work, members who strive for interdependence need to have direct, first-hand in-formation about each other's apostolates. The group has the benefit of dif-ferent experiences and resources when it is comprised of members from different ministries. As there should be shared expression at an interpersonal level of posi-tive feelings and confrontation, as noted above, so there should be shared expression at a spiritual level through prayer, liturgical celebration.and other faith experiences. This serves the purpose of enabling persons who have a commitment to each other to share this special part of their lives. Keeping spiritual sharing separate from other community activities and allowing for differences in member participation is also important because these are valuable means of legitimizing the individuality of personal experience and expression. To be clear about and in control of boundaries the points of separa-tion- for the community in regard to time--when things happen; tasks-- what occurs; territo.ry--appropriate physical spaces for the separate and shared parts of members' lives; and role,delineation of special roles within the group (e.g., management, coordination, various maintenance roles). Summary: Culture and Open System Two ideas may help to summarize the characteristics of effective com-munity: they are "culture" and "open system." It is the hope of those estab-lishing a small group community to enable a particular culture to emerge, one that is unique and meets special needs for that group. A culture is characterized by its social organization--especially norms, roles and ex-pectations for member behavior--and by its "expressions," i.e., what is shared with the outside world by the group. We have said here that the culture of the religious community needs to develop through Particular norms, patterns and values regarding communication and the organization of tasks and roles and religious expression. An open system like a biological organism, is one characterized by in-take, transformation and export processes.1° Transactions occur with the environment: intake of new members, materials and information; and export of the "products" of members' work, and members who leave the system. It is through evaluating differences between intake and export that the quality of the group's efforts, its internal processes can be judged. To be. effective as an open system, a religious community requires management of its intake, export and internal transformation processes, in the latter case 10Rice, A. K., Learning ]or Leadership (London: Tavistock Publications LTD., 1971). The Small Group in Religious Li]e / 819 procedures for meeting individual and group needs for' control of boundaries of time, task, territory and role. Growth of the v~rtical dimension occurs as the culture develops; this growth can be measured by the quality of interaction among members. Open relationships occur as members share ideas, feelings and perceptions that have to do-with their purposes in being together. Trust develops enabling openness and personal sharing to occur appropriately (in contrast with some coercive group norms toward "confiding" or "revealing"). Norms support-ing individual differences in sharing grow and become explicit. When both openness and personal sharing occur and yet individual differences are en-couraged, a climate of genuine intimacy develops. Conclusions Openness, trust and intimacy are important because as human beings we are drawn toward becoming "the persons who we are" and toward being "in relationship.''~ But as a priest or religious one is committed to apostolic ministry--horizontal dimension. Community exists "in the service of min-istry"-~ and this is primary. But since vertical and horizontal dimensions are interdependent, the work of ministry will suffer unless it is anchored in re-ligious community experience that meets social and psychological needs of member~ along with spiritual and apoStolic objectives. One implication is that persons living in religious community may use-fully explore ways in which they are and are not, like the sunbathers men-tioned above, (1) a number of separate individuals in physical proximity to one another, (2) a group brought together because of an immediate, com-mon task, or (3) a special kind of institution, formed to support the work of members' apostolates and simultaneously to facilitate members' personal development. This paper has tried to distinguish among such groups in order to enable members to better cfioose the type of community to which they wish to be committed. The small group as religious community is a collectivity of persons unified by the overarching mission of faith--to facilitate the experience of Christ among persons. This paper attempts to describe how synergy develops and is maintained in the service of ministry thi'ough integrating, in a dynamic way, community needs and apostolic objectives of inembers.1~ XlBuber, M., I and Thou (New York: Scribners, 1970). tZThe ideas in the paper were presented at an assembly of provincial leaders of the Society of the Sacred Heart from North America, Australia, and New Zealand in September, 1975. Provincial teams of three to five persons worked for ten days at various experiential activities aimed at internalizing, in their own behavior, the char-acteristics which are noted in this paper. Their purposes were to strengthen their team relationships, to increase their own experience of Community and to apply the ideas in this paper to 'their concrete work tasks and roles. The women reported, and assembly observers documented~ significant movement toward integrating the concepts with be-havior and action. A paper summarizing behavioral science aspects of the assembly and follow-up data may be requested from the author. The Contemplative Attitude in Spiritual Direction William A. Barry, S.J. Father Barry, Director of the Center for Religious DevelopmeJat, has written on the subject of spiritual direction for our pages before. His last article for RfR was pub-lished in March, .1973. He continues to reside at 42 Kirkland St.; Cambri~lge, MA 02138. In a number of articles both William J. Connolly, S.J. and I have referred to contemplation and the contemplativ~ attitude as the kind of prayerful attitude which spiritual directors try to encourage in those who seek spiritual direction.1 We have tried to describe what we mean by these words. Suffice it here to say that we use the word contemplation in itsoetymological sense; we mean to refer to the act of looking at or listening to something. Webster's first definition of "contemplate" says some of what we mean: "to view or consider with continued attention." In our earlier articles, I believe, we have not been sufficiently precise in our use of the word co.ntemplation and contemplative attitude. We have spoken of contemplating .the Lord in Scripture and in nature and have not sufficiently distinguished between the contemplation of Scripture and nature 1Barry, W. A., "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exer-cises," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 32, No. 1 (1973), pp. 102-109. Bai'r~;, W. A., "The Necessity of Contemplative Prayer for the Teaching and Stu~ly of Theology in a Ministerial School," Church Society ]or College Work, Vol. XXXIII, No. I (1975), pp. 6-10. Connolly, W. J., "Contemplation and Social Consciousness in the Context of the Directed° Retreat: An Experiential Approach." An address at the 8th National Workshop on the Spiritual Exercises, Cincinnati, August 25-28, 1974, and published by The Program to Adapt the Spiritual Exercises, Jersey° City, New Jersey 07302. Connolly,.W.J., "Contemporary Spiritual Direction: Scope and Principles, An Intro-ductory Essay." Studies in the Spirituality o] Jesuits, VII, (1975), pp. 95-124. 820 The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 8:21 and the contemplation of the Lord. Perhaps we have also not sufficiently attended to the nuance that one can have a. contemplative attitude and yet noi be contemplating the LordsIt is the purpose of these notes' to attempt some clarification of the meaning of and use of contemplation in spiritual direction. The Contemplative Attitude and Its Relation to "Transcendence" Have you ever been so absorbed in watching a game or reading a book or listening to music that you have been surprised at the end of the passage of time, by how cold or hot you are, by the anger of a friend (who has been asking 'you something for ten minutes)? Then you know the power of paying attention to something, and you have a personal example of the contemplative attitude. The most telling examples come from reports of how parents 'have been so concentrated on their children's safety in a fire or accident that they have only at the end felt the pain of their own wounds. Thus, one effect of the contemplation of something outside ourselves is that it can make us forget ourselves and our other suroundings. Contempla-tion leads to, or rather, is an experience of transcendence, of self-forgetful-ness of everyone and everything else except the contemplated object. '. Conversely, we find that self-absorption makes the contemplation of any-thing or an~yone else very difficult, if not impossible. Thus,. a starving man may well be unable to enjoy a sunset. One of the key elements to ministry in a hospital is the atte~apt to help the sick to become interested in others around them and in the outside world, that is, to help them todo something that will enable them to forget their own pain and suffering or to put it in another perspective. , . : Another aspect of the examples we began with should' catch our atten-tion, namely that the responses of absorption, joy, pain,: sympathy, love, gratitude which are associated with contemplation are not willed acts or willed emotions~ They are elicited from us by what we see and hear and comprehend.,~ (Of course; these responses~, do not arise qrom a blank tablet, but are conttitioned by our own past experiences~) Herewe have an impor-tant element to consider in all spiritual direction. Responses that are elicited by contemplation are not experienced in the first instance as willed acts. The clearest example, perhaps, is the response of love when one looks at the beloved; it seems to be a gift, something that arises because of the other, not because one has decided to love or fall in love. What one can do is to look it and to try to pay attention to the other, but ore cannot will one's response. At most one can hope that one will respond a certain way, This last point leads us to a further consideration. The person who con-templates in the way we are describing has to have an attitude of reverence and wonder before the other, especially if what he/she ~vants to see or hear is within the power of the other to grant 9r~withhold. In this case all one can do is to ask the other to reveal himself or herself and wait for it to Review 1or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 happen. This insight is behind the prayer for what one desires which Ignatius of Loyola puts at the begifining of every one of the exercises of the Spiritual Exercises. For example, in the Exercises I pray that the Lord will reveal to me my sinfulness, that I may have shame and confusion, that the Lord make himself known to me in order that I may love him and follow him. Here we see even more clearly the relation between contemplation and transcendence. When we are dealing with another person, we are not in the same position as we are when we are dealing with an object. Saint Exuprry's Little Prince on his small asteroid only needs to move his chair a bit in order to see another sunset, but he is powerless to see the reality and unique-ness of his flower until she chooses to reveal herself to him.2 But when the free other chooses to reveal him or herself, then the genie is out of the bot-tle, as T. S. Eliot said,~ and the mystery of the other is upon us. Thus we have a further observation on the relation of contemplation to transcendence. We try to control our perceptions. We are threatened by new-hess and strangeness, msa result we often see only what we "want" to see or what our perceptual and cognitive structures let us see. To try to contemplate means to try to let the other be himself or herself or itself, to try to be open to surprise and newness. To begin this process means to open oneself to mystery, ultimately to the Lordship of the Other. It is to let oneself be controlled by the other; paradoxically, one finds oneself free. The upshot most often is that one becomes less incapacitated by fear from accepting the mystery of life/ The experience of transcendence is, I believe, one of a continuum from total self-absorption to total absorption in the other--with the two ends of the continuum being ideal .states not found in nature. In any human experi-ence there is bound to be an.admiXture of both self-consciousness and. aware-ness of the outside world. The boundaries of the continuum might well be circumscribed by referring to the narcissistic person on the one hand and the enraptured mystic on the other. It might also be a help to those who are praying to realize that the contemplation of the Lord is no different from the contemplation of any other person in this regard, namely that one can be in the intimate presenc~e of a very dear friend'and still be'or become aware of the ache in one's feet, of wondering whether one put out the lights in the car, of the work still to be done for school tomorrow, and so forth. ZAntoin"e de Saint-Exuprry, Le Petit Prince, New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1943. " :~"But let me tell y~u, that to approach the stranger ls to invite the unexpected, release a new force, Or let the genie out of the bottle. It is to start a train of events Beyond your control ." T. S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party 4See W. J. Connolly, "Freedom and Prayer in Directed Retreats," REVIEW ]FOR REr LIGIOtJS, Vol. 32, No. 6, (1973), pp. 1358-1364. The Contemplative Attitude in Direction "/ 823 "Distractions," in other words, are a part of even the most intimate rela-tionships and should be expected in prayer too. Finally, in an intimate conversation reflection on what is happening or. on how well one is doing, especially with the idea of writing about it in one's journal or using it as an example for an article like this, can disturb the communication and be an instance of self-absorption. It happens, but it is better not to program it this way. Thus, the wisdom of. the tradition in spiritual direction of advising the person praying to do the reflecting after the period of prayer is over. Contemplation ~f the Lord in Nature and in Scripture Perhaps now we can clarify what we mean by contemplation of the Lord in nature and in Scripture. The Lord is invisible, and so hard to look at; he also seems pretty silent, and so hard to listen to~ Often enough, therefore, we try too hard to pray, :try too hard to listen and look. Too often prayer is seen as self-absorbing; our natural reaction when someone says, "Let us pray," is to bow our heads, close our eyes, and get serious--all of which is proper in its place. But we rarely get the impression that prayer can be an enjoyable experience, :that it can be a conversation, a dialogue, a relation- .ship. The spiritual director is confronted with the problem of,helping people to the enjoyment of God when much Of their past experience of prayer is one of labor, seriousness, brooding, and self-absorption. Many of us .who do spiritual direction have hit upon the idea of helping people to forget themselves for a while. We ask them what they like todo, what he!ps them just to forget their problems (besides going to sleep), and we try to help them to see that 0ihey already do contemplate in the way de- Scribed in the first note. We suggest that they spend a certain amount of time-~each.day, if possible-~-, doing whateVer it is that they like doing that is contemplative, and that they :consider this time as time with the Lord (i.e: prayer) in much the same way that they might want to share the same ex-perience with a close friend. We also suggest that they ask the Lord to make his presence known, to reveal himself. Then they look at and/or listen to whatever it is 'they enj'oy. After e~ch period of doing this we ask them to reflect on the experience: What happened?'What did they experience? Did the Lord make himself known? It is surprising what .happens wl~en people begin to do something like this. They often have objections at first: they.f.eel it cannot be prayer. More-over, being so conditioned to think that brooding and insights and resolu-tions are what prayer is all about they often need time and patience to get the hang of it and to find out that the director really means what he says. But then they begin to find such "prayer" times enjoyable and relaxing; they find themselves surprised by feelings of joy and gratitude and a real sense that Someone is present who loves and cares for them. They find that th~ey can 824 / Review ]dr Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 admit things to themselves that they were always afraid or ashamed to look at--and they feel better for it; they feel freed, healed. Agnes Sanford in her book The Healing Gilts ol the Spirit gives very similar advice. To people whosay "I can't find God," she suggests doing some simple things, especially things they like to do, that will put them in the way of God, as she says,0so "that he can find you.''~ That is the point, of course; as we saw in the first.section, ~the only thing we can do when we want to get 'to know another person is to put ourselves near and askthe person to reveal himself or herself. These reflections bring us to the question: Are there any privileged places or privileged events where we can go to put ourselves in the Lord's way? The traditional answer has been that there are, and. that these places and events include the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, the church teaching, the Scriptures, and the works of the Lord, especially nature, I will say something later about additions to this list, but now I would like to take up nature and' the Scriptures, Traditionally people have found peace and refreshment in the beauties of nature: The fact that most retreat houses, houses of prayer and monas-teries have been located in or near scenes of natural beauty testify to the belief that God is found more easily in nature and in solitude than, say, in cities. Traditionally, too, we have spoken of God revealing himself in the things he has made, "in plants and animals and in men, the wonders of Your hand," as the canon written ~by John L'Heureux puts it,~ I do not want to counter this tradition although I do believe that the Lord can be as present in the city; rather, I want to examine how the Lord is met and how we can help people to meet him in natt~re. First of all directors should suggest~ looking ~nd listening, not give ideas about God's continual creation, his indwelling, and so forth. We have to remember that most of us are conditioned by catechism, philosophy and the-ology classes to have beautiful thoughts about how. God is in all things, but that few of us have ever looked long.enough at a flower to let God reveal himself as the maker of that flower for me. Before a tree can become a symbol of God, it must first be seen and touched and smelled as a tree. The first suggestion, then is that people look at and listen to what.is around them. The second suggestion is that looking at natural beauty can in itself be a way of relat!ng to the Lord without any words~being said. Just as I relate to an artist by taking interest in what he has made, by taking time to look at it or listen to it, so too I can relate to God if I take time to contemplate what he has made. Creators lik~ to have people show interest in what they have done. All the better if I like" what I ~see and smile or sigh or express ~Sanford, Agnes~ The Healing Gilts 0! the Spirit (New York: Lippincott, 1966), esp. pp. 25-32. ~In Hoey, R. F. (ed.), The Experimental Liturgy Book (N,Y.: Herder and Herder, 1969), p. 97. ' The Contemplative Attitude in Direction delight in the presence of the artist. Such responses are elicited by what I contemplate, not willed by me, and they are communications to'the artist; in the case of God they are then called prayers of praise. Tfiey do not have to be couched in "prayer language." Indeed, the prayer is often made before a word is formed. The spiritual director might then be able to point out that the responses of the directee are similar to the responses that the poet who wrote Psalm 104 must have had and then tried to express in poetry. Not everyone is a poet, but almost everyone can be thrilled by a dazzling sunset or sunrise, the sun's light on fall leaves, and so forth, and feel a. deep sense of wonder. , Thus far we have been stressing the need to look and listen, the con-templative attitude. As I contemplate, I can also have desires, one of which is that the Lord reveal himself to me while I am looking at his works. If I begin my period of contemplation with a prayer that this desire be grant.ed, then.it is liable to happgn. I do not want to rule out high mystical experi-ences--~ because they do happen and more frequently than we tend to think --but here I would rather concentrate on the more ordinary ways the Lord reveals himself in,answer to this prayer. One can be walking along the beach at night and see a touch of silver from the moon on the crest of a wave and besides delighting in it suddenly feel at peace and in someone's presence who .himself delights in such things. Unaccountably one may feel that one is still loved, even though one does drink o'r eat too much or get angry with one's community members too often or even though one has just lost one's best friend or has just been turned down for graduate school or was not elected superior or whatever, and one may feel free to face ~oneself more honestly and with less self-pity. Or a person may sense her insignificance under the stars, and yet feel her own importance in the ~whole scheme of things, Or another may Sense a call deep inside himself to change his life style. In all these instances the person may be hearing or sensing the voice of the Lord revealing himself. When these kinds of experiences are real and exciting.and challenging as well as com-forting, then the Lord has begun to take on a new reality for the person. Perhaps now he or~.she can also pay attention to him and not just to his creatures. And here may lie the dividing line between contemplating the Lord and contemplating his works. The work of the spiritual director now becomes one of helping the per-son praying to discern, that is, to figure out what is going on, what is God's voice, what not. The discernment of spirits, begins when there are inner movements and the question is: Is the Lord revealing himself, and if so, what is he saying? The genie is out of the bottle, and now it is important to follow the genie's movements. We can look at the contemplation of Scripture in a similar way. Scrip-ture is not the Lord, but a privileged place to meet him. However, one must pay attention to the Scripture itself just as one has to pay attention to trees 1126 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 or sunsets or mountains. That is,"it is necessary to have a contemplative at-titude toward Scripture, to let the Scriptures be themselves and to listen to them and to ask that the Lord reveal himself while we are listening to these words. I do not intend ~here to delve into the arguments as to whether any other religious texts might be privileged places for meeting God; they could be and indeed people have met God while paying attention to St. Augustine's Confessions, to the prayer of St. Francis, to many other works of religious .literature, and even to secular literature. I am accepting as a given that Sgripture has primacy of place over all other literature as the Word of God. But we must listen to the Scriptures themselves, and not our projections onto them. One sometimes hears that modern scripture ,.scholarship with its de-mythologizing and its form criticism has been a blow to piety and has made it more difficult to use Scripture for prayer. Scripture scholars, it is some-times charged, have taken the mystery out of the infancy narratives of the gospels and other stories. We are not sure what Jesus actually said, or whether he actually did everything the gospels say he did. "How can we ever know him then?", people wonder. Those of us who take scripture studies and spiritual direction seriously have had to ponder these questions and charges as well as to take seriously our own and others' experiences in praying with the Scriptures. I think that we have not always been careful in our way of speaking, and it is my hope that this note will contribute to the clarification of our thought and ex-pression. , ,I want to focus on. the contemplation of the gospels and hope that the principles enunciated here can be analogously translated to the use of other scripture texts~ The first point is obvious: It does little good for prayer or Christian living to base both on a delusion. Hence, it is important to see the gospels for what they are. They are not biographies of J.esus, but four differ-ent expressions of the faith of the early Church and what it remembered in faith about Jesus. Each gospel has its own point of view, its own theo-logical focus, its own Sitz im Leben. Contemplation of°Mark's gospel, for example, means taking Mark's work on its own terms and trying to listen to his work of art. Secondly, it should be said that one need not be a Scripture scholar in order to be able to use the gospels for prayer. The Lord can still reveal him-self to someone who believes that angels actually did sing "Glory to God in the highest" at Bethlehem as long as one is open to having the living Lord reveal himself. But I do believe that the more one knows about the gospel, the better one can look at and listen to it and not to one's own cultural and personal projections of it. Thus, I believe that scripture study can be a help to contemplation. In other words, it helps, I think, to be able to con-template Mark's Jesus and know that it is Mark's Jesus and not necessarily The Contemplative Attitude in Direction / 827 the "real article" in all his historical reality. For one thing, one is not going to be thrown so much out of kilter by new discoveries of scripture scholars. More importantly, one is more likely to realize that the person one wants to meet' is not the Jesus of the past, but the present living Lord (who, of course,'is continuous with Jesus of Nazareth). Here we are at the heart of the matter. The purpose of contemplating the gospels .is to come to know the living Lord Jesus. Here again we can see the wisdom of Ignatius of Loyola. Before every contemplation of events from the gospels Ignatius has the retreatant pray for what he desires, namely "an intimate knowledge of our Lord, who has become man for me, that I may .love him more and follow him more closely.''~ Then I listen to the gospel text and treat it for what it is, as imaginative literature. I try to take the text ~seriously, and try to let it inspire my imagination, as it was written to do (as well. as to enkindle my faith). But my desire is not to know the scripture text better, but to know the risen Jesus better. I want him to reveal himself to me. And when he takes on reality and shape for me (not neces-sarily in a picture, by the way), then I talk to him, not to the text, and I listen to him, not the text. Those-who have not had this experience will not know what I am talking about, but hopefully they will be open enough to listen to the experience of those who have. The purpose of contemplation of Scripture is not to see Jesus. walking on water or to see him in Galilee or hear him say to Peter "Feed my lambs.~ The purpose is to hear the risen Jesus say to me: "Your sihs are~ forgiven,~you" and to know he means me; to hear him say to me." "Come,,follow~me.and be my friend" and.know that it is the Lord and that he is talking to me. Once again, discernment be-comes a necessity when I begin to feel moved by the Lord himself. I hope that by now it is clear that contemplation of nature or of Scrip~ ture is not in itself contemplation of the Lord, but that the former is a privileged way to the latter. Indeed, one can say that contemplation in the first sense is a technique or method, where contemplation in the second sense is relationship itself and no methods ~are needed. Finally as to the list of privileged places, it may be well to indicate that those mentioned earlier are still privileged places and also that different eras and different people may prefer one of the privileged places to others. It may also be that new privileged places may come into prominence. I am thinking especially of a shift from nature to man-made works of art or technique, a suggestion made by Josef Sudbrack, S.J? In our modern urban culture we may well find that human artifacts as well as human persons themselves may be more privileged than natural beauty. "l~here should be no difficulty here since the works of humans are ultimately God's handiwork. ~Spiritual Exercises (Puhl Translation), No. 104, p. 49. 8Sudbrack, Josef, Beten ist Menschlich: Aus der Er]ahrung Unseres Lebens mit Gott Sprechen (Freiburg in Breisgau: Herder, 1973). 828 / Review jor Religious, Volume 35~ 1976/6 On the Question of the Utility of Contemplation Recently in a discussion of contemplation someone mentioned that many people were advocating the 'techniques I have labelled contemplative for problem solving in management, for conflict resolution and that they worked without reference to God or the transcendent. That is, the contemplative techniques we mentioned in the,.earlier notes, were being used for secular purposes,, and people were feeling better, were more creative, more integral, and so forth. There is no question that the technique of contemplation by itself is very salutary. We need~ not bemoan that fact. But then what is the need to bring in God and prayer? ~ Here the only reply is to ask oneself to what end one uses contempla-tive techniques. If the answer is to solve problems, to feel better, to be more creative, then perhaps there is no need t~ refer to God and prayer. But for those for whom contact with the living Lord and the relationship itself with him are the goals, the question loses significance. It is like asking someone what he gets ,out of time spent with his wife that he could not get from others just as well. For those who seek the Lord, these techniques would be worthless no matter how good they. made them feel if in the process they did not find their Lord. Throughout.~these notes I have stressed that the purpose of contemplating nature, Scripture, or anything else is to meet the living Lord. When he is engaged, or rather when he engages me, there is no need of techniques or even of asking what the utility of prayer is. I want to be with him, and ttiat is enough. Without effort utility comes; one be-comes a better person and Christian. But relationship,is what is sought: In a Rut To get out of a rut a seed digs deeper. Edward A. Gloeggler P.O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11691 Individual Apostolates and Pluralism Community Identity in John T~I Ford, C.S.C. Fr. Fo~:d is Associate Professor of' Theology and Coordinator of Ministerial Studies in the School of Religious Studies at the Catholic University of America, WA 20064. Not too long ago, as our history is measured, the apostolic endeavors of American religious communities almost' invariably took a corporate or insti-tutional form. A typical example is the religious house all of whose members work in an adjacent school. Though there may be considerable variety in the occupations of individual religious (e.g~, ,~administration, teaching, coun-seling, maintenance, etc.), the work of;each is seen as contributing to the overall~ofunctioning of the institution. This corporate pattern is frequently paralleled in hospitals,~parishes, and other works religious communities un-dertake. ~ An.~important.consequence of this familiar pattern is aopervasive identi-fication, of religious community .with its institutions:' For example, this iden-tification is commohly reinforced through° a schedule that melds communal and institutional activities: if religious aren't working~in the institution, then they usua.!ly can be found together at some communal, activity in the near-bmyo rree sciydneinccale .h Tavhee c roemsuplatr iesd p wraitcht iicmapllryis ao n"mtoetnatl; .i nhsotwituetvieorn;.aalsi zwatiillo bne" nthoatet dthe later, a more apt.' comparison is with the communal life of the "family farm" or the "cottage industry" in agrarian societies. In brief, then, an "institutional apostolate" is a particular activity that members= of a religious community undertake as a corporate: effort; it is both a means of livelihood and a means of realizing the goals of the community. The melding of communal and institutional activities also affords a means ~f self-identity for religious. For example, the fact that religious (with 829 a30 / Review Jot Religioux, Volume 35, 1976/6 appropriate humility) speak of"'our school" is but one indication of the in-fluence of merged communal-institutional life on individual religious. Re-cently, when it has become necessary to close "our school," this identifica-tion has sometimes become painfully apparent. In other terms, the American tendency to identify a person with his occupation (e.g., John Smith is a carpenter, Mary Doe is a teacher) reached sort of a zenith in the case of religious; indeed, religious may be so identified with a particular institution that "outsiders" may not even know the proper name of the community whose members work there (e.g., "the sisters who teach at St. Mary's"). The liabilities of institutional apostolates are all too familiar. Perhaps the most burdensome is the tendency to subordinate the personal life of religious to the consuming demands of the institution. Illustrations are legion: fre-quently requests of a personal nature are refused if they are seen as inter-fering with the work of the institution (rather than as being alien to com-munity life). Another burden is an unrealistic subordination of communal life to institutional demands. While the acceptance of an institutional apos- ,tolate necessarily demands coordination with the life of the community, sometimes this is done by an additive process, as in the case of a com-munity that fulfilled its quota of religious exercises, one rapidly following another, after closing school for the day. Occasionally, the reverse happens: the requirements of an institutional apostolate are over-ruled by community procedures. An obvious, instance is the appointment of religious to in-stitutional positions for which their major qualification is membership in the sponsoring community. While post-conciliar renewal has (presumably?)caused the disappear-ance of the more conspicuous malpractices, still an inherent and recurring problem in institutional, apostolates is to maintain an appropriate balance between institutional work, living in community; and personal life. Any notable imbalance in these relationships is likely to occasion friction or dissatisfaction within a community. In addition to this perennial problem, there are other factors that have brought added pressures on institutional apostolates in recent years. For example, as a result of the post-conciliar decrease in the number of active religious, many communities have been. unable to staff their institutions in the same measure as formerly. Maintaining institutional 'commitments is seemingly so burdensome that some religious doubt the wisdom of institu-tional apostolates at all---even if their community would have sufficient personnel in the future. This feeling is frequently shared by those younger religious who are disenchanted with institutions in general and have entered religious life in view of a more personalized type of service. While this anti-institutionalism is~sometimes naively ex.aggerated, the fact remains that some communities have accepted members who simply do not identify with in-stitutional apostolates. Simultaneously new options have become available. For example, ~the Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 831 closing of some schools has made it possible or necessary for religious to seek positions outside the educational institutions conducted by their own community. Again, recent developments in the °Church, have led to the creation of new positions that ~previously didn't exist--directors of religious education representing a common instance. And in some cases, religious have found employment in government agencies or public interest firms. An interesting relationship has emerged in many institutions of higher education. In order to qualify for governmental assistance, a legal separation has been effected between institution and sponsoring community. While the same religious may continue their apostolate within the institution, legal separation makes it incongruous for a community to continue to consider the institution "ours." The legal status of religious working in the institu-tion is also changed; for example, many religious now have contracts with institutions that were formerly controlled by theircommunities. Apparently, institutional apostolates are being "individualized." Individual Apostolates Such recent developments have led to the emergence of'a variety of "individual apostolates.''1 Here an "individual apostolate" is :taken to mean a particular occupation that a religious undertakes as a personal effort and responsibility; it is to some degree independent of the administration of the community as such; it depends more on the particular personal qualifications of the religious, not on membership in this or that community. The degree of individuality, however, may ~vary considerably: religious who continue to'work in what were formerly their community's institutions may find that legal separation is a more or less nominal change; other religious, however, may find that they have to qualify competitively for their positions. In the latter case, when a particular religious leaves an individual apostolate, the community can not expect and is not expected to furnish a replacement (as is frequently the case in institutional apostolates). An im-portant icharacteristic of individual apostolates is that the religious com-munity as such can not determine whether its members will be able to ob-tain specific positions. Speaking.of an: apostolate as "individual" does not imply that it~is in-dependent of church or community; rather (if it is to be considered an apostolate) it must be conceived in'some way as a service that witnesses to Christ and reflects the spirit of a particularjcommunity. Moreover, there is a sense in which every apostolate is "individual,". insofar as religious are individually responsible for "personifying" the Gospel in their particular occupations. l Just as some may prefer terms such as '!mission" or "ministry" in place of "aposto-late," some may prefer terms such as "special" or "experimental" to "individual." Whatever the merits of one or other term, the concern here is with the implications of the individuality of these occupations in relation to community life. 1132 / Review for Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 However, one must admits, the arbitrariness of classifying practically any occupation as an "apostolate." For example, practically any occupa-tion- from farming to fine arts, from physical education to theoretical physics--has been placed under the generic umbrella of "apostolate" in various institutions conducted by religious. Given this precedent, it seems rather arbitrary to attempt to restrict "individual apostolates" along rigid lines.: In addition, individual apostolates have long-standing precedents in most active communities: the missionary stationed alone, the student i'e-ligious living outside a community residence, the traveling .retreat-master or fund-raiser, etc. Again on the'basis of precedents, it is hard to disqualify individual apostolates on .'the ground of separation from daily community life. Or is it justifiable to consider these instances "temporary," when in fact they last for years? Or is it realistic to consider these cases .exceptions or experiments, if they involve a relatively large percentage of a com-munity? The point in raising these questions is not to object to the legitimacy of individual° apostolates in active communities? Insofar as religious rules are guidelines~ not~ absolutes,, exceptions are allowable or, at times,.nece~sary; there does not seem to be any.a priori reason why individual apostolates can not be a justifiable exception. Likewise, communities have always had to experiment in their apostolates; accordingly, individual apostolates can be seen as a new type of apostolic venture attempting to respond to con-temporary needs. Still, it is hardly adequate to treat individual apostolates merely as exceptions or experiments~ First of all, a more positive view is necessary. Individual apostolates should be seen as a development that is appropriate, perhaps necessary, if the Church is to witness to Christ in the contemporary world? Indeed', individual apostolates have already proved beneficial in some communities; for example, their existence has occasioned a much needed delineation of lines of community responsibility in relation to all apostolates. Moreover, individu~il apostolates are a means whereby com-munities, instead of being constrained to fill various slots, can utilize their personnel in more creative ways. Perhaps the most attractive aspect of indi-vidual apostolates is their challenge to religious to develop fully their talents in the service of Christ. 2The question of what constitutes app(opriat~e occupations for r.eligious parallels that of appropriate occupatior~s for priests; cf. G. Murray, "The Hyphenated Priest," R]R (~'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS) 25 (1966), 693-702; D. Hassel, "The Priest-Expert," Chicago Studies 3 (1964), 201-225. .~Whether individual apostolates can be defended in contemplative communities is a different question; the example of Thomas Merton suggests that the possibility should not be peremptorily rejected. :*Cf. M. Rondet, ',Choices of Religious Life in a Secularized Worldi" R]R 34 (1975), 574-579. ~Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 833 On the other hand, since individual apostolates have seemingly arisen more by indirection than by intention~ it is easy to continue the pattern of temporary expedients ~ or ad hoc experiments"without facing broader issues. For example, it may be tempting to presume that individual apos-tolates are only a passing fad that will eventually go away; yet ~what if they are really introducing a new. and, distinct.form of religious,life?~ Again, it is tempting to assume that ,there is little difference.,~between religious, life for those in individual apostolates and those in institutional, apostolates; accordingly, the ~same mo~lel of religious' 'life should prevail in both. But what if there ,is-need for a new type of balance between occupation, re-ligiouslife, and personal life-style in individual apostolates? " The impl!cations of individual apostolates for religious life have been emerging, ,.like ~the apostolates themselves, only piecemeal. Though only partially apparent, these~implications need to be examined, for they poten- .tially constitute the raw material for either crisis or creativity---~r more ljk61y, a bit,of both. In other words,, a pattern is being established that affects,not only'the individual religious involved,,but the commumty as a whole~ For example, a relatively high proportion'of members in some communities is currently engaged in individual apostolates; even were it desirable to withdraw mem- .bets' from individual apostolates,.,it may no longer be feasible to do so without serious disruption (viz. problems in re-assignment, budget, resi-dence, etc.). Somewhat incongruously~ individual apostolates seem to have reached a point of institutionalization! On .the theoretical level, v~hat is at issue is a community's self-vision and self-identity. On the practical level is a complex of questions relating to the implementation of thi~ vision and the fostering of community identity Theoretical Level: A New Vision? Whatever the imbalances in institutional apostolates, they offer religious a sense of identity: "our community working in our restitution:" Quite commonly this sense of corporate identity ~s reinforced by a vision of religious life as a continual harmony of prfiyer ~nd Work, of w~or.k and prayer. Indeed, the identification of community and° institution, suggests something of an equation of,communal prayei and institutional work. If this'vision of religious~life was on~ convincingly painted in the novi-ti~ ite, such an interlocking matrix of p~ra~,er and work seems' alien 'to many religiohs today. The loss c~f this vision may'6ccasi6n feelings of ~talgia for a vision now blurred and a rhythm of. activity now. disjointed. Yet before ~Cf. R. Faricy, "Change in the Apostolic Religious Life," RIR" 34 (1975), 413-414. for a description of the "demonasticization of,apostolates." Should individual aposto-lates be seen as the cutting edge of this centrifug~al movement away from monasti-cism? o ' 834 / Review ]or Religious, l/olume~ 35, 1976/6 indulging guilt4eelings ab'rut, visions lost, it would be well to ask whether the vision is worth recapturing at all . . The vision of religious life as harmonious integration of prayer and work seems to presuppose a double model: a sociological model of an agrarian society coupled with a theological model of a divinely regulated universe.6 While an agrarian model may seem medieval, perhaps the. proximate in-fluence is the American frontier ideal of the self-sufficient family farm. Questions of historical origin aside, an agrarian model seems more influen~- tial in religious.life than is commonly acknowledged. For example, most religious communities were originally founded within agrarian societies; more importantly, an agrarian ideal of .community seems to survive in the expectations, of many religious. Indeed, one may suspect that efforts to "return to the spirit of the founder" may on occasion be similar to the flight from urban life and its mounting frustrations: a yearning for :a simpler life may be nostalgia for the benefits of an agrarian society. Or again, the once common practice of establishing houses of frrmation in rural settings ("where religious life could be lived at its ideal"), reflects something of the ideal of a self,sufficient family farm. Examples could be multiplied; varia-tions on the agrarian model could be added (e.g., religious~ community as "cottage industry" or "ethnic village," etc.). It seems worth noting the similar melding ~of work and communal life that characterizes both agrarian societies and institutional apostolates. Fitting: neatly with an agrarian model of religious :communityqs a the-ological :model Of a well regulated universe: iu~t as the universe is har-moniously ordered in every detail by an inherent set.of laws enacted by a provident God, so too is the religious community harmoniously regulated in every detail by a set of rules provided by ~a diyinely guided founder and subsequently administered, by omniscient superiors.7 While this is blatant caricature, it should be-remembered that every caricature hits uncomfortably close to life¯ ¯ Both models have become theoretically untenable. The~ agrarian model ~;Many different models have been used to explain the transition from one vision or world-view to another: for example, T. Nuij, "New Forms of Community Life," R]R 32 (1973), 59-64, coniraSts commtlnity in primitive, rural or pre-technological, and technological or industrial cultures. Among the abundant literature on this transition, cf. T. O'Meara, Holiness and Radicalism in Religious Lile (New York~ 1972); G. Moran, The. New Community (New York, 1970); L. Schaller, hnpact o[ the Future and The Change Agent (Nashville-Ne~ Yo.rk, 1969 and 1972, respectively); R. Weg-mann, "The Catholic Clergy and Change," Cross Currents i9 (1969), i78-197. The well-known works of C. Reich, The Greet,ing o! America (New York, 1971) and A. Toffler, Future Shock (New York, 1970) offer additional models and numerous illustrations. rThe influence of another model, the church as institution; is also evident; on the advantages~ and.~ limitations of 'this and. other ecclesiological models, cf. A. Dulles, Models o[ the Church (Garden City, New York, 1974). !t would be helpful to have a similar analysis of models of religious life. ~ Individual A,postolates and Pluralism / 835 is_Ansufficient in view of the complexity of urban, technological soCiety, while the theological model of-a s~,stematically directed universe is inade- - quate in the face of historical consciousness and philosophical pluralism. Accordingly, neither of these models .provides a suitable framework for a vision, of religious life. Nbnetheless, there is one reason ~for their tengcious survival:¢ they undoubtedly furnish a sense of security. It is ~spiritually reassuring to devote one's entire day in a harmonious blend of prayer and work dedicated to God: could a fervent religious want more? For some religious, then, the h'armonious vision is quite satisfying. For others, othe ~vision may~be~ feeble, but they are willing to live with;incon-sistency, because they are unable or unwilling to search for a new vision. If~a few havediscovered a new vision, many others are still searching. Aside from the fact that it is far easier to criticize a vision-become-problematic than to construct a replacement, visions are elusive and difficult to verbal-ize. More than likely, discussions within a community do notdebate visions but center on practical issues: traditional procedures versus new approaches. It is tempting, for example; to treat individual apostolates merely as another practical problem. Yet touch'more is at stake: competing visions of com-munity and apostolate that stand at the heart of personal and corporate self-identity. Not surprisingly, the .response to new visions has been varied. First of all, some would prefer to re-upholster the traditional vision by discard-ing out-dated elements" and .super-imposing sundry modern touches. Change is then cosmetic: the superficial appearance is different, but the funda-mental vision remains the same. Nevertheless, there are definite ad-vantages to this approach: it affords cor~tinuity with the past--a matter of concern to older members; it accommodates itself to new circumstances.--- a mattef of importance for younger members; and it introduces, ch~inges gradually sb that there is sufficient time to become accustomed to one set of changes before more_ are introduced--a matter of expediency in all social changes. Yet such an option Carries with it a'notable liability: it relies on a vision that is basically unattractive and unacceptable to many. ~ ~ ¯ Nonetheless-, the right of a community to take this option must be respected, for it may be the only option that a particular community can really live with.8 To follow an out-dated vision may not be wise, but it need not be wrong.dn fact, the attempt to .jerk away an apparent Linus blanket from those committed to a traditional vision is likely to be disrup-tive of both community and apostolate? .Without arbitrarily precluding the o sit might be well to develop a declaration of rights for religious similar to Vatican II's Declaration on Religious Freedom. '~Th6 hazards of adopti0g a new vision are forcefully, though stridently, indicated by J. Hitchcock, The.Decline and Fall o~ Radical:~Cbtholicism (New York, 1971); with-out accepting his viewpoint, one can still~adna!t the need for facing straightforwardly his criticisms. 83b / Review for Religious, Vrlume 33, 1976/6 possibility of future change, a community may.decide very realistically and very,' honestly that its capacity for renewal can only accomplish so much at~a ~iven moment of its history. Communities that decide to retain a traditional vision of community and'apostolate would be well advised not to"eng~ge any of their members in,individual, apostolates that require a life-styl~ that'is basically incompatible with the community,s traditional, vision and thus 'threaten its ~corporate identity. The predictable resulr~'would be serious dissension that.:the, com~ mfihity .may not be prepared to bear:~Yet this need not imply that such communities need to exclude ever~ type of individual.apostolate; what is implied is that~each proposed individual apostolate must be carefully ex-amined for its concordance.with the community's self-vision and self-identity. ,, The Problem, of Pluralism : If the traditional vision is~unattractiw or untenable, what is the new vision of ~community and apostolate? The ~option would be simple~ if a compelling new vision were~ at hand;'then at least-the choice would be.~ clear-cut: traditional or new. Unfortunately there is no one unifying vision that demands acceptance. If it is quite clear that modern life is techno-logical not agrarian, pluralistic not uniform, it is not clear how such aspr'cts .can be synthesized in a new vision. Instead of one new vision, there are~ any number of competing visions--each with advantages~ all'with their respective liabilities. The way to the future seems tobe: may. the best vision win! It is then quite understandable why many religious prefer to hold on to the~ vision they have, whatever.its deficiencies, rather than risk'the vague uncertainties of some apparently more problematic replacement. It is equally understandable why many other religious tend to hedge their op-tions ,by tentatively exploring new possibilities, while keeping a firm'grasp on,a traditional vision. Still., just as a diversity of liturgical practices and theological viewpoints has emerged in. the post-conciliar Church, so a similar diversity in life-styles and visions of community and apostolate has emerged in post-conciliar religious life. This ~variety is rooted in a greater theological awareness of the diversity in the mystery of Christ, the uniqueness of each person, and the temporal and cultural plurality of mankind.~° Where formerly uniformity was prized,as exemplifying the uhity of the Church, now pliJralism is seen as reflecting the Church's catholicity. Yet if it is easy~to pay lip-service to pluralism, it is much more difficult ~°Cf. E. Carter, "Pluralism in Christian Life," R[R 31 .(1972), 22~26; K. Rahner~ "Pluralism in Theology and the Oneness of the Churchs' Professiono o~ Faith," Con~ cilium 46: 103.123; A. Dulles', "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem,'" 'Theological S~udies 29 (1968),~ 397-416 (reprinted in Dulles! The~'Survival ot Dogma [Garden City, New York, 1971], pp. 152-170). ,Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 837~ to cope consistently with its implications. For example, some religious have adopted new life-styles, but have not related these to a new vision; and vice versa, new visions 'have been officially adopted in constitutions and rules without subsequent implementation in a community. ~ More importantly, the transition from uniformity to pluralism is both threatening~and enticing. Those who were trained for, or are congenitally inclined to, a life of uniformity and regularity can be severely confused by a,superabundan~e of choices and°the burden of responsibility inherent in a pluralistic situation:~°For example, obedience seems to furnish an excuse for some religious to become over-dependent on their superiors; or vice versa, obedience seems to allow some superiors to pre-empt most decision-making from their subordinates. If some r~ligious pale at pluralism~ it may be the threat of responsibilities that they are unwilling or unable to, bear; similarly, if some ~superiors resent pluralism, it may be through unwilling-ness to share their authority with former subordinates. Another dismaying aspect of pluralism is the potential loss, of com-munity support-systems; when familiar practices vanish, religious ma~' feel themselves ostracized from the group or isolated in their work. Change ih any form is unsettling to creatures of habit, but clinging to a traditional pattern may result in isolation. Since the prospect of losing the respect and understanding of one's companions is~unnervihg, pluralism can prove to be just as formidable to younger religious as to older. In the case of the younger, ,it can be the refusal to adopt the ~vision currently in vogue among their peers. Yet if pluralism ig threatening; it is also attractive. In place of the enervating burden of predictable routine there is the prospect of flexibility and variety in both communal and ~ apostolic life. Religious life is more easily seen as a challenging opportunity for'personal initiative and creativity in the service of Christ. For example, obedience may be seen~ as a commit-ment to Christ that takes the form of submitting one's proposed activities tO the critical encouragement and the charismatic~ evaluation of one's col-leagues; authority is pr!marily that of competent advice; ultimate responsi-bility is one's own before Christ and community. But such a revised view of~ obedience has to be accepted, not ~ofily by the individual but by the community, which may have fo ask whether it can function with a number of different and divergent views of obedience. Another attractive aspect of pluralism is the atmosphere which~ the community provi~tes religious for developing their self-potefitial both in their lives as Christians and in ~their apostolates; this implies a willingness and openness in sharing insights and successes, failures and feelings; in-deed, the diversity of apostolates undertaken by their colleagues can be-c~ me an incentive for religious to Work at~maximum capacity. The preceding contrast exemplifies some of the positive and negative aspects of pluralism. The examples may also help explain why individuals 838 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 react quite differently to the prospect of pluralism: some feel threatened; others are attracted; still others would like to have the advantages of both uniformity and pluralism without the liabilities of either.11 Insofar as pluralism seems to have emerged within religious life more as the result of a series of individual decisions and external trends than through precise planning for pluralism, its implications need attention. Earlier, pluralism in religious life tended to exist more as a collective phe-nomenon: different communities constituted a diversified spectrum of "catholic" religious life, but any one community tended to occupy only a section of this spectrum; each community enjoyed a fairly well specified corporate apostolic identity. The importance attached to this identity-via-apostolate is illustrated by the fact that some communities (even when personnel was available) refused to undertake certain apostolates, as incompatible with their constitutions; as a result, some communities originated as off-shoots of others, when a new apostolate was needed which the parent community felt unable to enter. "Of course, some communities have always allowed greater internal diversity than others. For example, if some communities have restricted their endeavors to one or two specific apostolates, others have undertaken a variety. At first sight, individual apostolates appear to be simply an exten-sion of this variety. And in fact, this seems to be the way most individual apostolates have come about: superiors have allowed individual religious to accept experimental apostolates as exceptions to accustomed practices. In fact, these exceptions have gradually reached the point in some com-munities- where a comparatively high percentage of members is involved; in some instances, proportionately more members are now in individual apostolates than are in some traditional ones. In effect, the exceptions appear to be constituting a new rule, though there is not always a new vision to accompany it. Thus, the introduction of individual .apostolates may precipitate a re-orientation of a community's self-vision and self-identity. In other words, individual apostolates seem to imply the acceptance of a plurality of visions, only some of which are com-patible with traditional vision(s). The basic question then is: to what extent is a community really willing to accept the implications of pluralism? Practical Options A community's Vision of its apostolate(s) is a vital element in its cor-por. ate identity; presumably its apostolic vision is an important factor in attracting, applicants ,and in training younger membersi presumably too, 11The reaction of any person to pluralism seems to involve a number of intertwined factors--personality, intelligence, education, age, occupation, etc.--so that it is im-possible to predict an individual's receptivity.to pluralism. Nor is receptivity~ merely a matter of age; the contrast "traditional-pliJralistic" is not identical with older versus younger~ Also, one may doubt whether it is possibl6 'to foster pluralism simply through instruction~ Individual Apostolates and Pluralism /839 apostolic vision is an essential motivation for the special spirit and dy-nainism of a community. Moreover, apostolic vision is necessary if a community is to avoid being victimized by the needs of the moment and to pla.n its activities on a long range basis. It is crucial, then, for a com- ~iinity to delineate its apostolic vision as clearly as possible, while recog-nizing that every option involves risk.1~ ,~ first option is for a community to continue its institutional aposto-late( s) as~ its primary and (probably) exclusive commitment. Presuming of course that its institutions are really viable, the most-compelling motive for this option can be found in the fact that this is what the membership recognizes as its proper charism and commits itself to do. The evident risk is that this option is not particularly appealing to those who want to work in a more personalized setting; thus, recruitment of new members and dis-satisfaction among present members could well be problems. Moreover, this option may yield to the temptation to abandon the struggle to live a religious life in the modern pluralistic world. The polar-oppbsite' is the option to make individual apostolates the primary and presumably exclusive emphasis in a community.~As a means of responding to challenges facing the Church in the modern world, thisop-tion presupposes considerable flexibility in community structures as well as Considerable self-reliance on the~part of individual religious. These pre-sumed strengths may be dissipated through excessive individualism on the one hand or through lack of traditional support-systems on. the other. While a few commuriities," or at least some segments .of communities, appear to be headed in the direction of this option, what may really be at stake is the creation of new communities (even though the present may not seem a particularly auspicious moment for new found~tiofis). L oA compromise between these two options is the attempt to. juxtapose ¯ institutional and individual apostolates. In greater or less degree, this is theo~present option of many active communities in the United States. In-deeid, it seems to be a typical bit of American pragmatism for a community to allow its members to dream different visions, to work in diffe~rent settings, oani:l, yet to unite, together as members of one family. If such diversity defies theoretical alignment, American religious will presumably be content, as long as their community lives and works harmoniously, however diversely. Compromise will tend to succeed as long .as religious are genuinely tolerant of the inevitable tensions that diversity introduces. The unavoidable risk is that s'uch a compromise will become unglued for example, through a wide-spread failure to fulfill responsibilities both in apostolates and in religious life, through favoritism or factionalism introduced when one group attempts to impose its views on others, or through the difficulty of attracting new members to a pluralistic life. r-'Cf, the interesting interview with a superior,general, C. Buttimer, "Is Religious Life Viable Today?" America 128/4 (February 3, 1973), 86-90. 840 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 If compromise is to be successful, it is important for the members of a community~ explicitly to recognize the terms of the compromise. In other words, if the tensions arising from diversity in visions and a variety of life-styles are not to. be divisive, a community needs to recognize and to ,accept a spectrum of variant models of apostolic endeavor and of, community life. A community should specify the extent of pluralism that it is capable of tolerating. For example, some communities may be ,open to any type of individual apostolate; others may wish to restrict themselves~ tO select types. Without prior specification or evaluation, .there is potential for arbitrary decision-making, either real or imagined; there is also the likelihood of disillusionment among members if their expectations, ,whether realistic or idealistic, are :not met. (Disillusionment can affect both those who expect the traditional apostolates to be maintained, as well as~ those who, want ind~ividual apostolates to be introduced.) . ~ ~ The acceptance of pluralism should eventually. 'be expressed in bbth the constitutionS, which describe a community's aprstolic vision, and in the rules,~which attempt to concretize this vision in the life.of a community. Such, formulation is .a difficult endeavor, as the revisions undertaken after Vatican II amply confirm.13 Moreover, the emergence of individual aposto-lates adds to the.complexity: first, since the vision is pluralistic and personal, constitutions apparently can do little more than generalize about the limit-points of the pluralism that is acknowledged in principle~ secondly, if rules presumably reflect the lived experience of a community over a period of ¯ time, individual apostolates, in their present form, ar~ both recent and .still .experimental. Accordingly, .different communities may choose .to accept individual apostolates .in rather different ways. Some communities may find it feasible to consider tliem as extensions of existing apostolates; for example, a com-munity., whose apostolate is in education may decide to restrict the ac-ceptance of individual apostolates to educational endeavors. Other com-munities, which have defined their apostolates in terms of specific groups (e.g., poor,~ unevangelized, ethnic, etc.) may allow individual apostolates as a broadening of their ministry to these groups. Still other communities may encourage any~,type of new individual apostolate that displays some relation to witnessing Christ in the modern world.' At least as crucial as express recognitio,n of individual apostolates~ in :constitutions and rules is the way religious regard such formulations. For some, rules are principles that must be uniformly applied in partiCular in-stance. s; others would view rules as determinations that are to be supple-mented and emended according to actual experience. This contrast is given visual form,,in the first case, by those rules that are published in leather-l'~ Cf. J.l_~zano, "Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria, and Problems," R]R 34 (1975), 525-534. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 841 bound, red-edged volumes resembling miniature Bibles; in the second.case, rtiIes migtit well be mimeographed on loose-leaf sheets and placed in folders to facilitate periodic revision and up-dating. At least this illustration may indicate tha~t attempting to specify'rules for a diversity of individual aposto-lates is a ~tenuous enterprise. In addition, it suggests that traditional rules; however well suited to institutional apostol~ites, should not simply be used as .an umbrella to cover the new situations encountered in individual aposto-lates. Since uniform rules for individual apostolates tend to be anomalous in theory and impractical in"fact, it seems necessary for commuifities whose members are engaged in individual apostolates to develop new approaches: It may well bethat'a community may decide to'formulate guidelines for community or .procedures~for administration or standards .for~professional life for those members in individual apostolates. In so doing, a community will need to face squarely both the advantages and the draffbacks that are encountered in attempting to live and work with quite different 'types of apostolates and life-styles within tile same community. o In any pluralistic situation, it is obviously impossible to lis't all the variables; yet it may be helpful to saml~le a few problem areas: administra-tive procedures, community life, and personal freedom. Administrative Procedures In the halcyon days of institutional apostolates, administration .may have been tedious, but it f~equently had the advantage of following a,stan-dard pattern of applying general norms to particular cases. This '.view. of administration is inadequate for dealing with individual apostolates (and, it should be added, With most institutional apostolates as-well). On the one"hand, individual apostolates tend to elude uniform norms, unless these a~'e~,extremely general; on the other hand, individual apostolates necessarily change the roles of and relationship between superiors and subordinates; This change in, roles" is graphically illustrated by the religious who occa-sionally employed the provincial' superior on a part-time basis. A prime factor in the:reorientation of roles is the fact that in most indi- .vidual apostolates, religious .need a fair amount of latitude to negotiate with prospective employeis and that, ~once employed, their work is not under, the direct supervision of community superiors. As a result; a superior's role tends to be narrowed to antecedent approval (for it is frequently unfeasible, if not counterproductive, for a superior to become involved in negotiations) ¯ and subsequent ratification, which may,be tantamount to rubber-stamping a iait accompli. Some superiors may find this process quite congenial; they have plenty of other problems and are quite relieved if some religious can successfully pursue their individu~ apostolates without supervision. Other superiors may feel more or less frustrated at wanting .to be helpful yet not being needed or at wanting to give daily directives yet being powerless; they may subcon- Review Ior Religious, Volume 35, 1976/6 sciously resent the apparent diminution of their authority. All of these reactions manifest, a lack of appreciation of the change in roles in the superior-subordinate relationship. If it is unrealistic to expect to transfer a set of relationships en masse from institutional to individual apostolates, what then is the role of the superior in relation to religious in this context? First of all, a superior has to take seriously the individuality of each apostolate as well as the personality of each religious; in effect, each apos-tolate must be considered as a separate and somewhat unique case, just as each religious ~is a unique individual. Instead of applying general norms to individual cases, a reverse process is needed: whether and how general principles apply needs to be discovered through an evaluation of each apostolate. The latter task can only be carried out as a joint effort of supe-rior and subordinate, acting as colleagues. . Accordingly, the role of the superior is less a matter of issuing com-mands and more a matter of fostering dialogue, discernment, and discre-tion. 14 Dialogue is necessary if the superior is to understand different apos-tolates from the viewpoint of participant religious; though this does not necessarily imply that a participant's view is always the best, still it should at least be the point of departure for productive discussion. Discernment, in the sense of raising appropriate questions to evaluate the potential, and performance for an individual apostolate, must also be a joint endeavor if the merits and disadvantages of a particular apostolate are to be appreci-ated. Discretion, which aims at deciding on an appropriate course of action among a number of alternatives, should also be shared; it is pointless to impose a decision that one cannot or will not be implemented. Obviously, such an approach to community administration requires a more personal type of communication than may have been customary in the supervision of institutional apostolates. Where a large number of indi-vidual apostolates are involved, such an approach may require that super-visory responsibilities be divided among more than one superior. Effective use of such an approach demands that superiors be skilled in interpersonal communication; in practice, this may mean that other administrative tasks, such as financial management, may have to be delegated to others. If a new administrative approach is required for individual apostolates, no approach is a panacea. While a more personal approach may be more human and hopefully more productive, both superiors and subordinates should realize that there is no advance assurance that their discussion will prove fruitful: if ~dialogue can result in agreement, it also may make any disagreement painfully evident; if discernment can raise crucial questions, l~One of the reasons-that dialogue, discernment, and discretion have become m~ajor concerns in post-conciliar renewal is linked to increased recognition of religious as persons; an added reason for the importance of these means here is the individuality of apostolates. Individual Apostolates and Pluralism / 843 it may also end in self-contented deception; if discretion can aid in deter-mining appropriate action, it is also an arbitrary selection among alterna-tives. There is no method that as such will guarantee success. For example, one question that dispels any roseate vie

Falta palabras clave. ; La presente tesis doctoral -titulada El Museo Vacío- parte de la convicción que, en vista de que los museos son instituciones culturales que han alcanzado una increíble notoriedad y popularidad desde el último tercio del siglo XX, fenómeno este sin precedentes, atrás quedó el museo como simple caja contenedora donde acoger numerosos objetos, reducto para unos cuantos instruidos, a transformarse en atractivos lugares, donde ofrecer al visitante nuevas experiencias, no sólo en la recepción del Arte y la Historia. Es decir, de instituciones cerradas e impenetrables para el gran público, se ha pasado a recintos abiertos (para las masas), con un papel renovado frente a la sociedad, llegando a ser consideradas las insignias de la Postmodernidad. En el contexto de la sociedad postindustrial, la cultura y el conocimiento toman protagonismo, del mismo modo que la memoria y su recuperación se han convertido en una obsesión global. El concepto de patrimonio cultural ha crecido sin cesar en los últimos tiempos con la aparente intención de dar satisfacción tanto a una sociedad postfordista que demanda "un mayor conocimiento" como a una insistente mirada hacia el pasado. Como resultado, cada vez ha sido más habitual la creación y ampliación de nuevos espacios culturales para albergar un determinado patrimonio (material e inmaterial). Incesantemente se han fundado múltiples y distintos tipos de museos, extensiones o renovaciones de antiguos edificios como centros culturales, nuevos espacios con carácter museístico y/o conmemorativos, múltiples (macro) exposiciones, nuevos proyectos artísticos y culturales de digitalización (gracias especialmente a los nuevos mecanismos de producción de imagen, a las nuevas tecnologías de la información y la comunicación -TIC-, así como a la democratización informativa de la redes mediáticas), y a diversos modelos museológicos y museográficos que plantean un nueva concepción de museo que poco tiene que ver con el tradicional museo-almacén. Este "efecto museo" y proliferación memorística se ha dado desde la década de los setenta, pero se ha intensificado a partir de los años ochenta, cuando se afianzó la cultura posmoderna del entretenimiento y la "Industria Cultural" de la sociedad postindustrial, coincidiendo a su vez con las estrategias revisionistas de la institución artística y con un crecimiento económico. En especial con el Centro Georges Pompidou de París (1977), pionero en lo que a público masivo se refiere y el que marcará el punto final de los museos del Movimiento Moderno y de partida de la Postmodernidad, cuando se dé con mayor impulso el fenómeno de un considerado aumento de nuevos museos y centros de arte contemporáneo, tanto de nueva planta como de edificios reutilizados para tal fin. Aquellas formulaciones de nihilismo museal y del arte institucionalizado levantadas sobre todo en los años sesenta y setenta por parte de distintos artistas y pensadores (ceñidos al debate sobre la muerte de Dios, el Ser y el Arte), paradójicamente desembocó en una progresiva expansión museística, cobrando el museo todo su protagonismo y su monopolio en el discurso artístico dominante y en la difusión del arte en una vitalidad nunca vista hasta ahora, al igual que la exitosa proliferación de centros artísticos, galerías de arte y (macro) exposiciones pensados en función del arte contemporáneo. Este fenómeno, desde las dos últimas décadas del siglo XX y principios del siglo XXI, ha adquirido tal dimensión que merece cierta reflexión o comprensión y un deseo de interpretación que, en "nuestro" caso, parte del asombro que despertó el macroespectáculo de la museomanía arquitectónica que se ha estado rivalizando principalmente entre los museos y centros de arte contemporáneo. El espectáculo de la arquitectura (museística) como imán de sustanciales audiencias, junto con las pautas que promueven el negocio del ocio y el turismo, pasó a convertir estos espacios culturales en parques temáticos de atracción turística: museos-espectáculo (con firma Pritzker), donde las masas han sido atraídas sobre todo por el marketing de la arquitectura-icono, restándole valía al tradicional significado del museo (que es de proteger, coleccionar y exponer), adquiriendo el contenedor todo su protagonismo como auténtica pieza artística en sí misma. Siendo esta una de las particularidades del museo posmoderno (definido como la nueva catedral del S. XXI), la cual realza nuestra cultura globalizadora, en la que impera el consumo de masa y la cultura de la imagen, incentivando al público la peregrinación al edificio el déjà vu. En las tres últimas décadas, el Museo ha pasado de ser un contenedor "neutro" a un objeto artístico destacado de la exposición; transformándose, estas "nuevas catedrales" de nuestro tiempo, en uno de los espacios más relevantes de promoción urbana, de peregrinación del turismo y en lugar de atracción para el consumo de masa. De manera que hemos pasado del modelo de museo-almacén, al museo fábrica (o laboratorio) y en los últimos años al tipo de museo seductor y espectacular. No obstante, la crisis actual del museo (de arte contemporáneo), envuelta por el espectáculo turístico que rodea a estas instituciones, está íntimamente ligada a esa sobresaturación a modo de ¿efecto Guggenheim¿ en la que, en tiempos de bonanza económica, se ha visto sumergida toda comunidad y ciudad, convirtiéndose la creación de museos y centros culturales en un instrumento de status político y de rentabilidad económica, más que de difusión artística y cultural. Dando paso a un modelo de museo altamente vacío (en su contenido), falto de debate crítico, de discusión y sobre todo de didáctica, valorándose el continente por encima del contenido. Así que hemos pasado de aquel vacío que ha dejado el museo moderno en torno a las prácticas artísticas, sobre pedagogías críticas e inclusivas, a la vacuidad de aquel que responde a la cultura del espectáculo; una cultura del "todo vale", de lo banal y superficial como la nuestra, tan efímera y tan post en tantos aspectos y sentidos. Y en definitiva, se observan unos vacíos (en la museología y en la historia del arte) que aparentan ser completados a través del espectáculo de la moda, el consumo y el diseño, atendiendo a una expansión sin límites del museo nunca vista hasta ahora. En una época donde la obra de arte contemporánea se produce y se expande tanto en espacios cerrados como en espacios naturales, urbanos o en red. De ahí también el título de la presente investigación, pues esta idea de museo vacío pretende con ello expresar la metáfora de un museo (expandido) fuera de lugar, infinito e imaginario, pudiendo trasladarse hasta los no espacios del museo virtual. Es de obligación en cualquier asunto de investigación plantearse cuestiones epistemológicas, en el que a partir de la corriente postmoderna, está cayendo toda una serie de valores (morales, éticos, educativos y culturales) a favor de la vacuidad del espectáculo, el consumo y la banalización. Además en un contexto donde predominan las imágenes, hoy más que nunca se necesita de la palabra. Consideramos que todo artista debe confrontarse con este tipo de cuestiones trascendentales de su tiempo en la tarea de investigación y creación artística, a favor de un pensamiento crítico con respecto a los fundamentos esenciales de su trabajo. De modo que este interés por el museo nace de una serie de preguntas que, como artista y consumidora (de arte) interesada, como es lógico, en el hecho expositivo, se hace [la autora] acerca de las prácticas de exhibición dentro y fuera de los museos y en torno a los espacios de discusión sobre las prácticas artísticas e institucionales. Más aún en un momento donde, paradójicamente, la madre institucional museística una vez más se encuentra en plena crisis de identidad -en un contexto de profunda crisis económica, política y social-, en busca de una necesaria reformulación de su concepción desde su uso, según su finalidad, acorde a los nuevos tiempos. El objetivo principal de este estudio teórico (de análisis y reflexión crítica) es reflexionar y debatir sobre múltiples interrogantes que plantea el fenómeno de los museos actuales, especialmente de los museos y centros de arte contemporáneo. Con el deseo, por un lado, de reflexionar -desde una perspectiva crítica- sobre el concepto mismo de museo, su rol-función en el mundo contemporáneo. Y, por otro lado, profundizar en el conocimiento de nuevos planteamientos y usos del museo, a través de distintos períodos y ejemplos nacionales e internacionales, muy distintos en relación con aquellas que ha ido asumiendo el museo tradicional desde sus orígenes: pasando de ser simples almacenes, contenedores de tesoros merecedores de fervor, a reivindicarles una dinámica viva, mudable y renovadora. Con el fin de descifrar las claves de los incipientes caminos del Museo Contemporáneo (tanto en su perspectiva socio cultural, artística y conceptual), y plantear un análisis y debate crítico sobre el estado del arte contemporáneo y su mediación, logrando una mayor conciencia y juicio personal con respecto a dicho fenómeno. No sólo se analiza de qué manera la creación de los nuevos museos plantea nuevos conceptos y trazados estéticos, culturales y filosóficos. Un tema, obsesivamente evocado por numerosos autores, mediadores, artistas, arquitectos, críticos de arte, filósofos, historiadores de arte, sociólogos, etc. Para ello también se tendrá en cuenta, entre otros asuntos, la presentación expositiva -como formato estrella- del arte contemporáneo, ya que la exposición entendida como dispositivo de presentación artística es uno de los elementos primordiales de la articulación discursiva del museo. Esbozando cuáles son algunos de los mecanismos y relaciones de poder y control de las instituciones museísticas, donde se revisan algunas de las propuestas e ideas que plantean distintos autores desde la teoría crítica (frankfurtiana y postmoderna), hasta la teoría artística contemporánea y la crítica institucional, donde se encuentran muchas preguntas, que más que responder, nos interesa plantear. De este modo, la tesis invita a reflexionar sobre el nuevo cambio de paradigma que rodea a la institución museística y a partir de ello identificar una serie de problemáticas que aún persisten en los museos, con el fin de ver sus límites y contradicciones, y generar una reflexión para proponer nuevos retos para el siglo XXI. Nunca como hasta este momento había sido tan cuestionado el papel del museo como institución cultural, hasta el punto que en numerosas ocasiones se ha hablado de una ¿muerte del museo¿, en concreto de los museos de arte contemporáneo. Pero a pesar de que el museo es una ¿institución en crisis¿ tampoco antes había despertado tanto interés como también demuestra la reciente numerosa producción bibliográfica museística a la vez que se ha convertido en un centro de mira de numerosos historiadores, teóricos y artistas, como paradigma de la cultura contemporánea, deslizando a la obra de arte a un segundo plano. De hecho, la relevancia de este trabajo pone también en cuestión el antecedente que originó la inquietud por uno de los problemas que se desea analizar: la posición artística del edificio-museo, pues como ya se ha dicho, el interés por crear un diseño espectacular ha supuesto el riesgo de que la arquitectura museística arrebate la importancia a las obras exhibidas. Tal y como puso de moda el Guggenheim de Bilbao, inaugurado con rotundo éxito en 1997, como paradigma de la cultura convertida en instrumento de consumo pero también de revitalización urbana y económica. Cuestión que, interrogada en multitud de ocasiones (especialmente en foros, conferencias y publicaciones especializadas), es pertinente analizar ya que está profundamente relacionado con la crisis de estas instituciones culturales. Pese a que, por otro lado, los museos se han convertido a finales del siglo pasado en uno de los principales referentes culturales, tendencia que mueve a miles de turistas todos los años, aunque esta nueva situación no está exenta de una serie de problemas que trataremos también de prestarle atención y que empezaron a examinarse en el S. XX. Sin embargo, tras pasar en los últimos años del fenómeno "efecto museo", acrecentado en pleno boom económico, nos situamos en nuevos tiempos de incertidumbre; donde contribuiremos -a modo de reflexión- a la discusión introduciendo ciertas cuestiones sobre el tema: cómo el reciente impacto de la crisis financiera pone en peligro tanto la supervivencia de muchos museos y centros culturales, como la divulgación, educación e investigación del arte y cultural. Poniendo igualmente énfasis en cómo la crisis económica obliga favorecer una reconfiguración de las instituciones culturales y nuevos modos de comportamientos de sus protocolos internos. Nuevos caminos que se abren en un periodo de transformación radical como el actual y el consecuente cambio de paradigma económico, social, político y cultural que se está produciendo, que está impulsando nuevos espacios de producción y colaboración, nuevas maneras de financiación, producción y distribución para las artes, así como redes de colaboración e intercambio -en torno a los bienes comunes y la gestión colectiva-, que abren igualmente nuevos modos de producción, distribución y recepción del pensamiento crítico, donde se toma como punto de salida y de lo común el contexto actual de crisis, que está a su vez marcando un cambio político y social. De modo que igualmente importante son las transformaciones que se están dando a raíz de los cambios producidos con la aparición de las nuevas tecnologías de la información y la comunicación (TIC), sobre todo con Internet, ya que están produciendo grandes cambios en nuestra actual sociedad que necesariamente afectan al mundo del arte. Todo ello se presta a un significativo análisis y valoración, en el que adoptaremos una metodología de trabajo de carácter reflexiva y crítica, desde una sensibilización con el asunto a partir de la observación y experiencia en la visita a estos y otros espacios expositivos, enriquecida con la teoría y la crítica institucional, con la consulta de fuentes bibliográficas en materia museística y publicaciones de revistas especializadas, investigaciones, monografías, ensayos, páginas web, prensa, etc. De esta manera, con la ayuda de dichas herramientas de trabajo, la metodología principal consistirá en recopilar ideas, pensamientos, teorías, fenómenos, nuevos paradigmas, recontextualizarlas y sacarlas a colación, evidenciando y revisando, asimismo, aquellos sistemas (visibles e invisibles) de poder que se manifiestan en todo ámbito de entretenimiento, del lenguaje y la política. La presente investigación encuentra fundamentado su marco teórico en distintos autores de diferentes áreas de conocimiento que rodean al ámbito museístico, básicamente: historia del arte; arquitectura; filosofía; estética; museología; sociología; arte contemporáneo. Si bien, existe una extensa y heterogénea literatura sobre el tema de investigación, la presente tesis pretende cubrir la carencia de estudio y análisis del objeto del museo en el área de Bellas Artes; ahondar sobre temas de actualidad en el mundo del arte y analizar una serie de paradigmas que rodea al ámbito museístico y al mundo del arte contemporáneo, planteando reflexiones y preguntas claves sobre la validez, alcance y naturaleza de ello; de este tema vigente de existente discusión, para que este tesis teórica -de corte crítico- no constituya un punto final de este trabajo, sino una puerta abierta hacia la prolongación de este estudio u otro. Y aunque será un tanto difícil plantear unas conclusiones finales en un asunto como es el museo y el mundo del arte que está en continua transformación, observamos que hay un vacío, un problema, si no, no se habría generado tanta crítica al museo, sobre todo a partir de la segunda mitad del siglo XX, y por supuesto ni tan ingente cantidad de investigaciones y literatura teórica sobre el mismo, que ha conducido, además, en las tres últimas décadas a un debate sobre la especificidad del museo, de los espacios expositivos, del arte y, en consecuencia, a nuevas definiciones del mismo acto creativo. Pero lo cierto es que, según los datos que nos ofrece la historia del arte, el museo se ve avocado a una crisis y renovación permanente. Si no desea morir, a seguir cambiando y evolucionando, según las tendencias artísticas y las necesidades sociales. Así que para una mayor comprensión y conciencia de dicha realidad, en la presente tesis, intentaremos dar cuanta de cuáles han sido los cambios más drásticos que ha sufrido el museo a lo largo de la historia, sin dejar las formas de los edificios inalterables. Especialmente desde que nace el museo como institución pública, a finales del siglo XVIII y principios del siglo XIX, como consecuencia, del paso definitivo de la colección y exhibición del arte privado al dominio público, tras la Revolución Francesa; el nacimiento y desarrollo del museo de arte moderno hasta aquellos proyectos de museos generados por el Movimiento Moderno en la primera mitad del Siglo XX y, por otro lado, su conversión en centros de arte contemporáneos en la segunda mitad del siglo pasado; para posteriormente situar el presente trabajo en dicha evolución histórica, ubicando el museo en nuestra época de la información/comunicación, post-moderna y globalizada, y extraer una serie de consecuencias prácticas para la investigación. De este modo, el analizar cómo ha ido cambiando a lo largo de la historia la forma y la función del museo, nos permitirá a su vez plantear una serie de reflexiones (críticas) en torno a la crisis inherente que ha perseguido al propio museo desde sus orígenes. Con respecto a la estructura de la tesis, ésta se presenta en tres grandes bloques que comprende un total de diez capítulos pensados, por un lado, en base a los objetivos propuestos y, por otro, a las etapas o ciclos más significativos en el origen y desarrollo del Museo, en aquellos acontecimientos y fenómenos más relevantes (de un pasado lejano y cercano) que han devenido en un cambio de paradigma, así como a distintas posiciones que se consideran predominantes en las formas de los museos contemporáneos. Pese a que se ha intentado delimitar en todo lo posible la investigación, el tema en cuestión es un poco rizomático, porque en cuanto se replantea un asunto en torno al museo aparecen otros que nos llevan también a otras cuestiones. Es por ello que en el desarrollo de la investigación se han abordado simultáneamente casi todos los puntos bajo la influencia recíproca de las diferentes observaciones y conceptualizaciones. Con un tono sencillo, aunque un tanto filosófico, se profundiza en las diversas cuestiones planteadas, en las dos primeras partes del estudio se hace un recorrido histórico por la construcción de estos espacios destinados al arte y como una especie de registro (de evaluación) de los movimientos (arquitectónicos) dominantes que han envuelto la concepción del museo a lo largo de la historia, con la intención de profundizar asimismo en la transformación de dicha institución. Además de analizar las diversas tipologías museísticas que se han venido dando a lo largo de la historia, veremos de este modo que la relación que se establece entre la obra y el marco espacial en el que se inserta suele generar numerosas tensiones, como por ejemplo al interactuar con una arquitectura museística como la actual que tiene una fuerte carga narcisista. Precisamente, daremos cuenta que las cuestiones y conflictos en torno a estos contenedores de arte se han estado dando desde la creación de los museos, razón demás por lo que nos situamos en diferentes períodos, con el fin de dar cuenta si el museo es un espacio ecuánime, capacitado y autosuficiente para acoger tanto la obra de arte contemporánea como al espectador. Del mismo modo, que en la 3ª parte examinamos si el formato tradicional de la exposición (física) sigue siendo el más apropiado para acoger aquellas novedosas propuestas y prácticas artísticas que se originan fuera del marco institucional. Pues llegados a la Postmodernidad, en esta última parte, daremos cuenta de los nuevos paradigmas de representación que envuelven al museo desde el inicio del postmodernismo hasta la actualidad (y que, en definitiva, transgreden la misión tradicional del museo y sus límites). La primera parte comprende el "Concepto de Museo y su Expresión Arquitectónica". Distribuida en los tres primeros capítulos de la tesis, se definen las nociones más importantes de la presente investigación. Analizamos en primer lugar la definición y la formación histórica del concepto de museo, su origen en la historia y su significado en la Antigüedad; la gestación del Museo desde hace ya casi tres siglos y las primeras dicotomías de la obra de arte con el espacio que la contiene; se analiza el descubrimiento de las formas de exponer y su expresión espacial en las tipologías básicas, y como se desarrolla su lenta y complicada transformación en los prototipos arquitectónicos del primer tercio del siglo XIX. Para ello le prestamos atención a la evolución de las primeras arquitecturas (palaciales) de uso exclusivamente museísticos (a partir del Siglo XVI), hasta aquellos primeros contenedores de tesoros artísticos que pasaron a materializarse partiendo de "arquitecturas dibujadas". Por otro lado, las causas y el origen del museo público a finales del Siglo XVIII, su gestación como institución estatal pública y patrimonial, y el auge de las exposiciones temporales en el siglo XIX (primero con la creación de los museos de artistas vivos y, por otra parte, con el fenómeno de las exposiciones universales); reflexionando al final del mismo sobre la noción de "museo efímero" frente a los límites del museo almacén, junto a otros fenómenos socio-culturales y prototipos de museos contemporáneos que transgreden la concepción del Museo (tradicional). En la segunda parte: "Antecedentes Artísticos del Museo Postmoderno (la nueva estética de la Modernidad)", a lo largo del capítulo 4, 5 y 6 daremos cuenta de las transformaciones socio-culturales y de los cambios e innovaciones en el arte y en la arquitectura del siglo XX. Se analiza las aportaciones del arte y la arquitectura de vanguardia en la concepción del Museo de Arte Moderno -MOMA- de Nueva York (a través de una nueva enunciación estética y conceptual que irá imponiéndose a lo largo del siglo XX sobre el no estimado palacio o templo de las artes), junto con las aportaciones de los maestros del Movimientos Moderno (Le Corbusier, M. van der Rohe, F. Lloyd Wright) en el desarrollo y evolución del mismo, así como las contribuciones de críticos, teóricos, artistas, sociólogos y filósofos que han cuestionado mordazmente el museo desde distintas perspectivas, hasta los inicios de la Postmodernidad; cerrando esta 2ª parte con aquellos antecedentes más próximos del museo posmoderno: el espectacular Museo Guggenheim de Nueva York, con su espacio expositivo de movimiento continuo, y el espacio flexible e interdisciplinar del Beaubourg de París, entre otras propuestas de museos no edificables pero de enorme repercusión. Situarnos en la era pompidou llevará establecer un nuevo vínculo del museo con las neo-vanguardias, el cual nos permitirá hablar de la ruptura con la cultura oficial de la Modernidad. Además del análisis arquitectónico y conceptual de aquellos proyectos que han marcado un cambio de paradigma, nos introducimos en algunos aspectos del museo visto tanto por arquitectos e historiadores del arte como por filósofos y artistas, de esta manera ampliamos las distintas visiones y aportaciones que han influido en la configuración y la constante evolución de esta institución socio-cultural. Sin obviar, por tanto, aquellos aspectos tanto sociales, económicos y políticos como aquellos vinculados al público. En la tercera parte, estructurada en los últimos cuatro capítulos de la tesis, bajo el título "Transgrediendo los límites del museo: nuevos paradigmas representacionales; nuevas prácticas artísticas y curatoriales", se examina la situación actual que atraviesan los museos y centros de arte contemporáneo, abarcando distintos asuntos ligados a la Posmodernidad, sus efectos y excesos sobre el museo como institución cultural. Si bien, el detonante de la presente investigación, la arquitectura (museística) contemporánea y su artisticidad (avivado por el protagonismo que se le ha dado a estos brillantes contenedores de arte y por la museomanía en la que nos hemos visto envueltos en las tres últimas décadas), nos ha permitido también reflexionar sobre los fundamentos del arte contemporáneo. De este modo, nos introducimos en esta última parte en el tema más amplio, de cómo se han transgredido los límites del museo, con el fin de analizar el museo como un espacio que por sí mismo ejerce una influencia o una política en la sociedad, y, por otro lado, las contradicciones y límites que presenta como institución cultural. Para ello se analizan aquellas prácticas artísticas y curatoriales que desplazan el lugar de la obra de arte y dislocan la autoridad del museo. En este punto se incluyen distintos asuntos sobre las conexiones entre la estética y la política. De modo que, en esta última parte, empezaremos dando cuenta de nuevos discursos y actitudes críticas frente al Museo en los inicios de la Postmodernidad; la crítica feminista; la crítica institucional de los años 60/70 (teniendo en cuenta el precedente crítico de las vanguardias históricas radicales); las nuevas formas de representación que trae consigo la Postmodernidad que exigen a su vez nuevas formas de exhibición, nuevos espacios (públicos) de producción y distribución artística. Por otra parte, se analizan distintos modelos de museos contemporáneos con dinámicas muy distintas, nuevos espacios artísticos y culturales -físicos y virtuales- que rompen con el concepto clásico de museo. Nos situaremos en el contexto actual de crisis que viven estos espacios legitimadores (museos, centros de arte contemporáneo, galerías,.), en un momento de profunda crisis económica, política y social. Y, por otra parte, examinaremos el impacto de las tecnologías digitales en la producción, distribución y recepción del arte contemporáneo; las nuevas formas de participación e interactividad en el arte (arte público, arte contextual, arte relacional) y la importancia de las teorías de la recepción en la configuración de las diferentes orientaciones conceptuales que trazan cuál debe ser el objetivo del museo en el siglo XXI. En definitiva, entre otros asuntos, intentaremos ver en esta última parte cuál es la situación actual del museo (su rol en el contexto socio-cultural, artístico y conceptual), y los retos a los que se enfrenta hoy día esta institución en el actual panorama de crisis globalizada. Analizando aquellas transformaciones a las que se ve avocado el museo para acomodarse en los cambios sociales en consonancia con la sociedad -de la información y mediática- contemporánea. Pues uno de los objetivos principales de esta tesis es precisamente debatir sobre el impacto de esas transformaciones, analizando aquellos paradigmas que han impulsado los cambios más drásticos en el museo a lo largo de su historia, a la vez que exponemos distintos ejemplos de intervención artística que han transgredido los límites del museo y han posibilitado el desarrollo de dispositivos críticos. Conjuntamente, en las tres partes se analizarán algunas de las críticas más destacadas al museo desde que nace como institución cultural hasta la actualidad por parte de filósofos, artistas, historiadores del arte e intelectuales. Así que la presente investigación ha devenido en pensamiento y reflexión crítica en torno al arte contemporáneo, la cultura contemporánea y la sociedad, en torno a las prácticas artísticas y su relación con los espacios expositivos de distribución, instituciones como centros de arte y de producción, galerías y museos, lo cual nos ha permitido adentrarnos en un análisis previo sobre la arquitectura de estos espacios -de ficción y consumo- como reclamo mediático y espectacular. Por último, un apartado con las conclusiones finales de los diferentes temas abordados, donde se recogen las principales reflexiones (críticas) que se derivan de este estudio, que nos ha servido sobre todo para reflexionar en torno al arte y cuestionar lo establecido. ; La présente thèse doctorale -intitulée «Le Musée Vide» (El Museo Vacío)- est animée par la conviction selon laquelle le musée a cessé d'être une simple caisse où conserver de nombreux objets, des bastions de quelques instruits, pour incarner des lieux fascinants conférant au visiteur des expériences novatrices allant au-delà de l'enseignement de l'Art et de l'Histoire. Autrefois fermés et impénétrables au grand public, les musées constituent désormais des enceintes ouvertes aux masses et jouent un rôle nouveau dans la société en tant que symbole de la Postmodernité. Si la culture et la connaissance occupent une place à part entière dans la société postindustrielle, la mémoire et sa récupération sont également devenues une obsession généralisée. Le concept de patrimoine culturel n'a pas cessé de grandir au cours de ces derniers temps avec l'intention apparente de satisfaire aussi bien une société postfordiste aspirant à «une plus grande connaissance» que le regard inflexible jeté sur le passé. Ainsi, la création et l'ampliation de nouveaux espaces culturels pour accueillir un patrimoine concret (matériel ou immatériel) sont devenues monnaie courante. Dès lors, de nombreux musées, aussi différents les uns que les autres, ont vu le jour, en ayant parfois eu recours à l'agrandissement ou la rénovation d'anciens bâtiments, pour donner place à des centres culturels ou de nouveaux espaces muséaux ou commémoratifs, expositions multiples, des nouveaux projets artistiques et culturels de numérisation (notamment grâce aux nouveaux mécanismes de production de l'image, aux nouvelles technologies de l'information et de la communication — TIC —, mais aussi grâce à la démocratisation informative des réseaux médiatiques) et aux nouveaux modèles muséologiques et muséographiques proposant une vision novatrice du musée n'ayant guère de rapport avec le musée-entrepôt classique. Les années 1970 ont été marquées par l'émergence de cet «effet musée» et la prolifération de la mémoire. Ce phénomène s'est par la suite intensifié à partir des années 1980, lors de la consolidation de la culture postmoderne du divertissement et de «l'Industrie Culturelle» de la société postindustrielle, coïncidant, ainsi, avec les stratégies révisionnistes de l'institution artistique et une croissance économique. Ceci est particulièrement spécial le cas du Centre Georges Pompidou de Paris (1977), précurseur dans l'avènement du public de masse, qui va annoncer la fin des musées du Mouvement Moderne et le début de la Postmodernité, au moment où l'on constatera le phénomène d'une augmentation considérable du nombre de musées et de centres d'art contemporain nouvellement fondés, qu'ils procèdent de nouvelles édifications ou de reconversions de bâtiments prévus à cet effet. Le musée assume déjà toute l'importance et a récupéré son monopole dans le discours artistique et dans la diffusion de l'art avec une vitalité encore jamais vue, et également la prolifération des centres artistiques, les galeries d'art et (macro)expositions pensés surtout en fonction de l'art contemporain. Ce phénomène a acquis une telle dimension qu'il invite à la réflexion, voire à la compréhension, et provoque, en ce qui «nous» concerne, un désir d'interprétation né de l'émerveillement suscité par le spectacle de l'architecture (muséale) se retrouvant principalement dans les musées et les centres d'art contemporain et agissant en tant qu'aimant d'audiences considérables. Ainsi, ces «musées-spectacles» (avec la signature Pritzker) font des contenants de véritables œuvres artistiques en soi. Étant celle-ci une des particularités du musée postmoderne (défini comme la nouvelle cathédrale du XXIe siècle), laquelle remarque notre culture globale dont la consommation de masse et la culture de l'image prévaut, encourageant le public au pèlerinage du bâtiment le déjà vu. Pendant les trois dernières décennies, le Musée en tant que contenant «neutre» est devenu un objet artistique du domaine de l'exposition en tout point remarquable et a donné lieu à des «nouvelles cathédrales» de notre temps, des espaces de promotion urbaine figurant parmi les plus influents, des lieux de pèlerinage touristique et d'attraction pour la consommation de masse. De ce fait, on est passé du modèle de musée-entrepôt au musée-usine (ou laboratoire) et, au cours des dernières années, au musée spectaculaire et captivant. Néanmoins, la crise actuelle du musée (d'art contemporain) enveloppée par le spectacle touristique entourant ces institutions, est profondément liée à une sursaturation à titre «d'effet Guggenheim» dans laquelle toute la communauté et la ville s'y plongent pendant la période de prospérité économique, plutôt que la diffusion artistique et culturelle. Laissant du coup la place à un modèle de musée particulièrement vide (dans son contenu), sans débats critiques, de discussion, et surtout de didactique, en valorisant davantage le contenant que le contenu. De cette manière, on abandonne cette idée de vide laissé par le musée moderne –autour des pratiques artistiques sur pédagogies critiques et inclusives - pour arriver à la vacuité de celui qui répond à la culture du spectacle. Il faut observer des vides (auprès de la muséologie et l'histoire de l'art) qui simulent être complétés à travers le spectacle de la mode, la consommation et la conception compte tenu de l'expansion sans limites du musée jamais réalisée jusqu'à présent. À une époque où l'œuvre d'art contemporain se produit et s'étend aussi dans les espaces fermés comme dans les espaces naturels, urbains et sur Internet. D'où aussi le titre de la présente recherche, car avec cette idée de musée vide on essaie d'exprimer la métaphore d'un musée (étendu) déplacé, infini et imaginaire, pour après se rendre jusqu'aux non-espaces du musée virtuel. De sorte que cet intérêt pour le musée est né d'une série de questions qui, en tant qu'artiste et consommatrice (d'art) intéressée, évidemment par le fait expositif, résulte des questions posées sur les pratiques d'exhibition hors et dehors des musées et autour des espaces de discussion à propos des pratiques artistiques et institutionnelles. Notamment dans un moment où paradoxalement la mère institutionnelle muséale se trouve encore une fois en pleine crise d'identité –à l'égard d'un contexte de profonde crise économique, sociale et politique-, à la recherche d'une reformulation nécessaire de sa conception depuis son usage, selon sa finalité en accord avec les nouveaux temps. Le but principal de cette recherche théorique est celui de réfléchir et de débattre sur les différentes interrogations que le phénomène des musées actuels pose, particulièrement des musées et des centres d'art contemporain. D'une part, avec le désir de réfléchir – après une perspective critique - en ce qui concerne le concept de musée en soi, son rôle/fonction dans monde contemporain. Et d'autre part, approfondir la connaissance des nouvelles approches et les usages du musée dans le cadre de ses différentes périodes et exemples nationaux et internationaux, aussi dissemblables en relation avec celles que le musée traditionnel a assumé depuis ses origines: au début ils étaient de simples entrepôts, des contenants de trésors dignes d'être admirés, pour finalement exiger d'eux une dynamique vivante, changeante et rénovatrice. Afin de déchiffrer les clés des voies naissantes du Musée Contemporain (dans une perspective socioculturelle, artistique et conceptuelle) et de débattre à propos de l'impact de ses transformations, alors qu'on est en train d'analyser les paradigmes qui ont stimulé les changements les plus drastiques auprès du musée tout au long de son histoire, en même temps que l'on présente différents exemples d'intervention artistique qui ont transgressé les limites du musée et ont permis le développement des dispositifs critiques. De cette façon il y a aussi une analyse et un débat critique concernant l'état de l'art contemporain ainsi que sa médiation. Non seulement faut-il analyser la manière dont la création des nouveaux musées propose de nouveaux concepts et des tracés esthétiques, culturels et philosophiques, mais il faut aussi tenir compte, entre autre, de la présentation d'exposition – en tant que format étoile- de l'art contemporain étant donné que l'exposition comprise comme dispositif de présentation artistique est l'un des éléments primordiaux de l'articulation discursive du musée. Les mécanismes et les relations de pouvoir et de contrôle des institutions muséales où les propositions et les idées formulées par les différents auteurs se formulent, depuis la théorie critique (de l'école de Francfort et postmoderne), jusqu'à la théorie artistique contemporaine et la critique institutionnelle où se trouvent beaucoup de demandes, qui, plutôt que d'y répondre, nous tient à cœur de les poser. Par la suite, la thèse invite à réfléchir sur le nouveau changement du paradigme qui entoure l'institution muséale et à partir de là, identifier la série de problématiques qui continuent à exister dans les musées afin de voir ses limites ou contradictions et créer une réflexion pour proposer de nouveaux défis pour le XXIe siècle. Jusqu'à nos jours, le rôle du musée comme institution culturelle n'a jamais été autant remis en question à tel point que de nombreuses fois on entend parler d'une «mort du musée», concrètement des musées d'art contemporain. Mais malgré le fait que le musée est une «institution en crise» cela n'avait pas non plus éveillé l'intérêt comme le démontre la récente et nombreuse production bibliographique muséale en même temps qu'il est devenu le centre de repère de plusieurs historiens, théoriques et artistes, comme paradigme de la culture contemporaine, reléguant l'œuvre d'art en arrière-plan. De fait, la pertinence de ce travail remet en cause aussi le précèdent qui a conduit à la préoccupation à propos de l'une des questions à analyser: la position artistique du bâtiment-musée, car comme on avait déjà mentionné auparavant, l'intérêt de créer une conception spectaculaire a signifié le risque de l'architecture du musée minimise l'importance aux œuvres exposées. Tel que le Guggenheim de Bilbao revenu à la mode, inauguré avec succès en 1997, comme un paradigme de la culture transformé en un instrument de la consommation, mais aussi de la revitalisation urbaine et économique. Cette question posée des centaines de fois (en particulier sur les forums, lors de conférences et dans des publications spécialisées) reste pertinente à analyser puisqu'elle se rapporte entièrement à la crise de ces institutions culturelles. Pourtant, après avoir passé les dernières années du phénomène «effet musée», en augmentant en plein boom économique, nous nous situons dans des nouveaux temps d'incertitude, où nous contribuerons (en guise de réflexion) à la discussion en introduisant quelques sujets sur la question: comment le récent impact de la crise financière met en danger soit la survie de beaucoup de musées et centres culturels comme la divulgation, éducation et recherche sur l'art et le culturel. On y souligne également comment la crise économique oblige à favoriser une reconfiguration des institutions culturelles et les nouvelles manières de comportement de ses protocoles internes. Les nouveaux chemins qui s'ouvrent dans une période de transformation radicale comme l'actuel et le conséquent changement de paradigme économique, social, politique et culturel qui se produit de nos jours, favorisent de nouveaux espaces de production et de collaboration, de nouvelles manières de financement, de production et de distribution pour les arts, ainsi que les réseaux de collaboration et échanges -autour des biens communs et de la gestion collective- qui ouvrent également de nouveaux modes de production, distribution, réception de la pensée critique, où le point de départ et du commun –et celui qui marque un changement politique et social- est le contexte actuel de crise. De sorte que pareillement incontournables sont les transformations qui apparaissent à la lumière des changements produits avec l'apparition de nouvelles technologies de l'information et de la communication (TIC), surtout avec Internet, puisqu'ils sont en train de modifier la société actuelle qui affecte directement le monde de l'art. Tout cela offre une analyse essentielle, celle d'adopter une méthodologie de travail réflexive et critique, d'après une sensibilisation avec le sujet à partir de l'observation et expérience dans la visite de ceux et d'autres espaces d'exposition enrichie avec la théorie et des critiques institutionnelles, à une consultation de sources bibliographiques en matière muséale et dans des publications de revues spécialisées, investigations, monographies, essaies, pages web, la presse, etc. La présente recherche trouve sa marque théorique étayé chez divers auteurs de différents secteurs de la connaissance qui principalement entourent le domaine muséal: l'histoire de l'art, l'architecture, la philosophie, l'esthétique, la muséologie, la sociologie, l'art contemporain. Malgré le fait qu'il existe une large et grande variété littéraire sur le thème de recherche, cette thèse vise à couvrir le manque d'études et d'analyses de l'objet du musée dans le domaine des Beaux-arts; approfondir sur les enjeux actuels dans le monde de l'art et ainsi analyser un certain nombre de paradigmes entourant le monde des musées et le monde de l'art contemporain, soulevant des questions et réflexions clés concernant la validité, la portée et sa nature. De ce sujet en vigueur et en discussion, pour que cette thèse théorique -de typologie critique- ne constitue pas un point final de ce travail, mais une porte ouverte sur l'approfondissement de ce cas d'étude ou d'un autre. Et même s'il sera légèrement difficile de tirer des conclusions définitives sur une question telle que le musée et le monde de l'art qui est en transformation constante, nous constatons qu'il y a un vide, un problème, autrement il ne se serait pas généré autant de critiques du musée, en particulier à partir de la seconde moitié du XXe siècle, et non plus l'énorme quantité de la recherche et de la littérature théorique sur celui-ci, qui a également conduit dans les trois dernières décennies à un débat sur la spécificité du musée et des espaces d'exposition, l'art et, par conséquent, de nouvelles définitions du même acte créateur. Par contre, il est certain que, après les données que l'histoire de l'art nous a offert, le musée s'est vu obligé dans une crise de renouvellement permanente. S'il préfère ne pas mourir à changer en continuation et évoluer selon les tendances artistiques et les besoins sociaux. Donc, pour une meilleure compréhension et prise de conscience de cette réalité, nous essaierons de rendre compte des changements les plus spectaculaires subis par le musée à travers l'histoire, laissant indéfectibles les formes des bâtiments. Surtout depuis la naissance du musée en tant qu'institution publique à la fin du XVIIIe et au début du XIXe siècle, en conséquence du pas définitif de la collection et la présentation de l'art privé dans le domaine public, après la Révolution française; la naissance et le développement du musée d'art moderne jusqu'aux projets de musée générés par le Mouvement Moderne dans la première moitié du XXe siècle et, d'autre part, sa conversion en centres d'art contemporain dans la deuxième moitié du dernier siècle; pour ensuite mettre ce travail dans ce développement historique, plaçant le musée dans notre ère de l'information/communication, post-moderne et mondialisée, et d'en tirer un certain nombre de conséquences pratiques pour la recherche. De cette manière, analyser comment la forme et la fonction du musée a changé au cours de l'histoire va nous permettre de nous livrer à des réflexions (critiques) autour de la crise inhérente ayant poursuivi le musée depuis ses origines. Par rapport à la structure de la thèse, elle se présente en trois grands blocs comprenant un total de dix chapitres, plus les conclusions finales, destinées, d'une part, sur la base des objectifs proposés et, d'autre part, aux étapes les plus importantes de l'origine et le développement du musée, dans ces événements et phénomènes pertinents (à partir d'un passé lointain et récent) qui sont devenus un changement de paradigme, ainsi que les différentes positions qui sont considérées dominantes auprès des formes des musées contemporains. Bien qu'il ait tout essayé pour délimiter le plus possible la recherche, le sujet en question nous rappelle au rhizome car dès que le sujet autour du musée se relance, d'autres sujets apparaissent conduisant également à la formulation de nouvelles questions. Voilà pourquoi, dans le cadre de la recherche ont été simultanément traités presque tous les points sous l'influence réciproque des diverses observations et conceptualisations. Avec un ton simple, bien que légèrement philosophique, on se penche sur les diverses questions soulevées dans les deux premières parties de l'étude un voyage historique est fait dans la construction de ces espaces destinés à l'art et comme une sorte de registre (évaluation) des mouvements (architecturales) dominants qui ont enveloppé la conception du musée à travers l'histoire, avec l'intention d'approfondir sur la transformation de l'institution. En plus d'analyser les diverses typologies muséales qui ont été mises en place tout au long de l'histoire, on verra de cette manière que le rapport établi entre l'œuvre et le cadre de l'espace, auquel il est insert, tient à générer plusieurs tensions, comme par exemple lors de l'interaction avec une «architecture muséale» comme l'actuelle d'une très forte charge narcissiste. Justement, nous rendrons compte des questions et des conflits autour de ces contenants d'art qui ont été présents depuis la création des musées, une raison de plus pour qu'on se situe aux différentes périodes afin de rendre compte si le musée est un espace équitable, qualifié et autonome pour accueillir l'œuvre d'art contemporain et le spectateur. De même, dans la troisième partie on va examiner si le format traditionnel de l'exposition (physique) est toujours le plus approprié pour héberger les propositions novatrices et les pratiques artistiques qui naissent hors du cadre institutionnel. Donc, dans cette dernière partie, à la Postmodernité, on décrit les nouveaux paradigmes de représentation impliquant le musée depuis le début du postmodernisme jusqu'à ce jour (et en somme, ils transgressent la mission traditionnelle du musée et ses limites). La première partie comporte «le concept de musée et son expression architectural» (el Concepto de Museo y su Expresión Arquitectónica), distribuée sur les trois premiers chapitres de la thèse où se définissent les notions les plus importantes de cette recherche. On examine en premier lieu la définition et la formation historique du concept de musée, son origine dans l'histoire et sa signification dans l'Antiquité, la gestation du Musée depuis déjà près de trois siècles, et les premières dichotomies de l'œuvre d'art avec l'espace qui y contient. On analyse la découverte de façons d'exposer et son expression spatiale dans les typologies basiques, et étant donné le développement de ses transformations à la fois lentes et complexes aux prototypes architecturaux du premier tiers du XIXe siècle. Pour ce faire, nous prêtons attention à l'évolution des premières architectures (palatiales) de l'utilisation purement muséales (du XVIe siècle), aux premiers contenants de trésors d'art après s'être matérialisé à partir des «architectures dessinées». D'un autre côté, les causes et l'origine du musée public à la fin du XVIIIe siècle, sa gestation en tant qu'institution d'État public et du patrimoine, et l'essor des expositions temporaires au XIXe siècle (premièrement avec la création des musées d'artistes vivants et, d'autre part, avec le phénomène des expositions universelles); pour à la fin réfléchir sur la notion de «musée éphémère» face aux limites du muséeentrepôt, à côté des autres phénomènes socioculturels et les prototypes de musées contemporains qui transgressent la conception de Musée (traditionnel). Dans la seconde partie: «Les précédents artistiques du musée postmoderne» (Antecedentes Artísticos del Museo Postmoderno). Tout au long des chapitres 4, 5 et 6 on expliquera les transformations socioculturelles, et les changements et les innovations dans l'art et l'architecture du XXe siècle. Seront analysées les contributions de l'art et l'architecture d'avant-garde dans la conception du Musée d'Art Moderne - MOMA- de New York (à travers une nouvelle énonciation esthétique et conceptuelle qui va s'imposer tout au long du XXe siècle sur le non apprécié palais ou temple des arts), avec les contributions des enseignants du Mouvement Moderne (Le Corbusier, Mies van der Rohe, Frank Lloyd Wright) dans le développement et l'évolution de celuici. Ainsi que les contributions des critiques, théoriciens, artistes, sociologues et philosophes qui ont durement interrogé le musée à partir de différents points de vue, jusqu'aux débuts de la Postmodernité. Pour finir cette deuxième partie avec ces antécédents plus proches du musée postmoderne: le spectaculaire Musée Guggenheim de New York, avec son espace d'exposition de mouvement continu, et l'espace flexible et interdisciplinaire Beaubourg à Paris, entre autres propositions de musées inconstructibles mais d'un impact considérable. Nous situer dans l'ère Pompidou signifie établir un nouveau lien entre le musée et les néo-avant-gardes, lequel nous permettra de parler d'une rupture avec la culture officielle de la Modernité. Outre l'analyse architectonique et conceptuelle de ces projets qui ont marqué un changement de paradigme, nous nous introduisons dans quelques aspects du musée vus soit par des architectes, historiens de l'art soit par des philosophes et des artistes. De cette manière les différentes visions et apports qui ont influencé la configuration et l'évolution constante de cette institution socioculturelle s'étendent et, par conséquent, seront prises en considération. Il ne faudrait pas oublier, donc, tous les aspects aussi sociaux, économiques et politiques comme ceux liés au public. Dans la troisième partie, structurée dans les quatre derniers chapitres de la thèse, intitulée: «Transgresser les limites du musée: nouveaux paradigmes de représentation; nouvelles pratiques artistiques et curatoriales» (Transgrediendo los Límites del Museo: nuevos paradigmas representacionales; nuevas prácticas artísticas y curatoriales), on examine la situation actuelle que les musées et centres d'art contemporain traversent, englobant diverses questions liées à la Postmodernité, ses effets et les excès sur le musée en tant qu'institution culturelle. Alors que le déclencheur de la présente recherche, l'architecture (muséale) contemporaine et son artisticité (alimentée par l'importance accordée aux magnifiques contenants d'art et par la 'muséomanie' dans laquelle nous nous sommes vu impliqués les trois dernières décennies), cela nous a permis aussi de méditer sur les fondements de l'art contemporain. De cette manière, on introduit dans cette dernière partie le sujet plus large, de comment les limites du musée ont été dépassées afin d'analyser le musée comme un espace qui par lui-même exerce une influence ou une politique dans la société, et, d'autre part, les contradictions et limites qu'il présente en tant qu'institution culturelle. À cet effet, cette pratiques artistiques et curatoriales qui détachent la place de l'œuvre d'art et disloquent l'autorité du musée sont également analysées. À cet égard différents points y sont inclus sur les connexions entre l'esthétique et la politique. De la sorte, dans cette dernière partie, on va commencer par expliquer les nouveaux discours et les attitudes critiques face au Musée aux débuts de la Postmodernité; la critique féministe; la critique institutionnelle des années 1960-1970 (compte tenu la précédante critique des avant-gardes historiques radicales); les nouvelles formes de représentation qui entrainent la Postmodernité en exigeant des nouvelle formes d'exhibition, des nouveaux espaces (publiques) de production et distribution artistique. D'autre part, les différents modèles de musées contemporaines sont analysés avec des dynamiques assez divergents, nouveaux espaces artistiques et culturels -physiques et virtuels- qui finissent avec la notion classique de musée. On se situe alors dans le contexte actuel de crise que vivent ces espaces légitimateurs (musées, centres d'art contemporain, les galléries, etc.) dans un moment de profonde crise économique, politique et sociale. En outre, nous devons examiner l'impact des technologies digitales dans la production, distribution et réception de l'art contemporain; les nouvelles formes de participation et d'interactivité dans l'art (art public, art contextuel, art relationnel) et l'importance des théories de la réception dans la configuration de différentes orientations conceptuelles qui tracent le principal but du musée au XXIe siècle. En définitif, entre questions diverses, on va essayer de constater dans cette dernière partie, quelle est la situation actuelle du musée (son rôle dans un contexte socio-culturel, artistique et conceptuel) et les défis auxquels cette institution doit faire face de nos jours dans une situation de crise globalisée. En étudiant les transformations que le musée a subies pour s'installer aux changements en accord avec la société -de l'information et médiatique- contemporaine. Ensemble, les trois partis vont analyser certaines des critiques les plus remarquables du musée depuis sa naissance comme une institution culturelle jusqu'à présent de la part de philosophes, artistes, historiens de l'art et intellectuels. Donc, cette recherche est devenue critique dans la pensée et la réflexion autour de l'art contemporain, la culture contemporaine et de la société autour des pratiques artistiques et sa relation avec les espaces d'exposition de distribution, des institutions comme des centres d'art et de production, galeries et musées, qui nous a permis d'entrer dans une analyse précédente de l'architecture de ces espaces -de fiction et de la consommation- comme réclame médiatique et spectaculaire. Enfin, une section avec les conclusions finales des différents sujets abordés, où les principales réflexions (critiques) issues de cette étude apparaissent, qui nous a permis surtout à réfléchir sur l'art et à remettre en cause tout ce qui est établi. ; Premio Extraordinario de Doctorado US

Issue 26.6 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; i~onfessions o~ Religious W~men by Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 981 Protestant Women in Religion by Elsie Gibson 1 O11 ¯ Postulancy, Noviceship, Profession by Jbseph F. Gallen, S.J.~ 1i326 Self-Study for Renewal 0 :: by Benedict M. As.Key, O.P. 1034 The Secular Religious by George B. Murray, S.J. 1047 Renewal in Historical Perspective by Eugene A. L~Verdiere, S.S.S. 1056 From a Johannine Desert by John T. Carrnody, S.J. 1065 Religious Vocation: A Decision by Sister M. Cordula, C.S.A. 1081 Guidelines for Formation by Robert Y. O'Brien, S:J. 1090 Indwelling Summit by T~omas Dubay, S.M. 1094 Paper in Religious Life by Richard M. McKeon, S.J. 1113 The Infused Gift of Humility by Joseph de Guibert, S.J. 1117 Poems 1129 \ Views, News, Previews 1130 Questions and Answers 1134 Book Reviews 1140 1967 Indexes 1163 VO~.UME 26 NUMBER 6 November 1967 NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS On February 1, 1968, P~viEw voR RELIGIOUS will pub-lish clothbound reprints of volumes 21 to 25 (1962-1966) inclusive of the REwEw. These clothbound reprints will cost $7.50 each per volume or $37.50 for all five volumes. However, until January 31, 1968, these volumes will be sold at a special prepublication price o[ $6.00 per volume or $30.00 for the entire set of five volumes, provided that orders are accompanied by lull payment in U.S.,'I. [unds and are postmarked on or belore January 31, 1968. The first twenty volumes (1942-1961) inclusive of the P~v~Ew have already been reprinted in twenty cloth-bound volumes. These normally sell at $6.50 per volume or $130.00 for the set o[ twenty. However, from November 15, 1967, to January 31, 1968, inclusive, they will be sold at the special price of $5.00 per volume or $100.00 for the set of twenty. On February 1, 1968, and thereafter the price of these first twenty volumes of the REvIEw will return to their normal price of $6.50 per volume. Postage and carriage costs will be paid by the R~vi~w when full payment in U.S.A. funds accompanies orders; in other cases postage and carriage costs will be charged to the purchaser. Orders for all the above should be sent to: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Lbuis, Missouri 63103 SISTER M. DENIS, S.O.S. The Confessions of Religious Women INTRODUL'I~ION As was apparent from Part I of this study,* few priest-confessors and sister-penitents are satisfied with the pres-ent situation of the confessions of women religious. Eleven serious problem areas were defined through questionnaires answered by both priests and sisters. The purpose of the second half of this study is to present some practical suggestions towards solving these prob-lems, including fundamental changes in attitude, changes in exterior structures, and modifications in canon law and liturgical rites in an effort to render this encounter of the religious woman with the forgiving Christ as meaningful as possible. The sudden death of Father J. A. Glarmont, C.Ss.R., one of the original co-authors of this study, has affected the viewpoint of the present paper. Many of the ideas contained therein, particularly those pertaining to the role of the confessor, are taken from the notes of and previous discussions with the late Father Clarmont. May this understanding priest, who dedicated many years as a confessor to women religious, continue to guide con-fessors and sisters by his spirit and his intercession with the forgiving Christ. 1. The Problem of Change (a) ,4pproaches to Change. Change for the sake of change or haphazard approaches to change may be of little value and may, in fact, perpetrate much harm. In Part I we have attempted to analyze those factors which tend to render the sacrament of penance less meaningful, thus clearly defining our objectives. In the present paper we shall attempt to apply modern sacra- ¯ The first part of this study appeared in REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS, v. 26 (19fi7), pp. 581-fi03. Sister M. Denis, S.O~q., writes from 62 Hargrave St.; Winnipeg 1, Mani-toba; Canada. VOLUME 26, 1967 981 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 982 mental theology to the existential sittiation. Finally, we shall complement our findings with the many sound positive suggestions from the questionnaires returned by the priest-confessors and sister-penitents. On the part of the priest and sister reader, we caution wisdom to dis-cern what changes can be affected in their own particular situations. Present structures cannot be transformed immediately. Although many of the conditions surrounding the con-fessions of women religious are deplorable, the funda-mental change is a reorientation of one's own attitude through deeper knowledge, prayerful insight, and subse-quent personal renewal. Therefore, the following sug-gestions will derive their greatest practicality from their bearing on current conditions. However, we must avoid the temptation to rest in the present situation. Ultimate reform of present structures by reasonable means and through proper channels should be the concern of every priest-confessor and sister penitent. (b) Means of Effecting Changes. Individuals must never lose sight of the truism that changes ar~ effected by people in the concrete, not ideas in the abstract. The most practical and lasting changes are those which proceed from personal experience, not those which are' imposed from above. With respect to the confessions of women religious, grassroot discussions should take place within each convefit among the sisters concerning their particular problems. The difficulties revealed in Part I of the present study might serve as guidelines for these discussions. Then a frank and open dialogue between the confessor(s) and sisters of a given convent would re-sult in greater mutual understanding concerning the various aspects of this sacrament. The questionnaires revealed serious misunderstandings, primarily due to lack of open communication. With the rapid growth of diocesan synods and diocesan committees of religious, suitable channels are being instituted for effective pres-entation of these problems and suggestions to the re-spective bishops. And finally, the principle of collegiality and the corresponding strengthening of regional con-ferences of bishops augur much hope for efficacious ac-tion in alleviating many of the problems surrounding the confessions of women religious. THEOLOGICAL DIMENSIONS OF PENANCE The familiar parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15) has been cast by Christ in a certain framework which has value for our consideration of the sacrament of pen-ance. Refreshingly free of the juridical elements that have dominated theological thought for centuries con- cerning penance, the parable illustrates the dynaJic and positive aspects of this sacrament. For the sake of Iclarity we shall refer to these aspects as the personal, inierper-sonal, ecclesial or communal, and cultal dimensions of the sacrament of penance. Indeed, these dlmenstons I are blended so carefully in the parable that only~ upon careful reflection can each be distinguished from the others¯ The son has sinned against the father. His sin a d con-sequent remorse, repentance, and conversion are not mere applications of some remote abstraction; t~ey are intensely personal. "! am dying of hunger. I will leave this place.1 have sinned." x As a sinful person, the prodigal presents himself to his father and seeks for-giveness. The immediate drama of forgiveness takes plaice be-tween two persons. In acknowledgang hts sxn the son declared, ". I will go to my lather and say: Father, have sinned against heaven and against you.' "2[ Sin is the disruption of an interpersonal relationship with the Father. Of the father we read: He ran to the boy, clasped h~m xn hxs arms and kissed hlm tend.erly.' The sinful person is received by the forgiving person. In this forgiving encounter the movement is not all one-sided. When the son came into view, the father ~ran to . him. The very acts of repentance and corresp?nding forgiveness with the bestowal of gifts, amid great joy and happiness, flow from an intense love between father and son. It is clear, however, that the act of loving forgiveness goes beyond the re-establishment of relations between father and son. There is a real need to celebrate this event in the community. Announcing the return [of the son to the entire household, the father called for group festivities. The manner or cult of the celebration was c~efully specified. The best robe, a ring and sandals were or-dered for the son. In a common eating of the lfatted calf the entire community, with music and dancing, re-joiced at the return of the prodigal. To the eider son's I angry objections over such a display, the father's answer I indicated that the real nature of forgaveness has per-sonal, interpersonal, communal, and cultal dimensions: "My son, you are with me always and all I t~ave is yours. But it was only right we should celebrate and re- XLk 15:18. All scriptural quotations are taken from T~e Jeru-salem Bible edited by Alexander Jones (Garden City: Doubleday, ~ Lk 15:18. e Lk 15:21. ÷ ÷ ÷ Contessions ol Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 983 4, 4, Sister M. Denis, S.O .S REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 984 joice, because your brother here was dead and has come to life; he was lost and is found." 4 In discussing these dimensions as they relate to the confessions of women religious, two errors should be avoided; first, that the apparent divisiveness caused by separating each dimension from the others be not trans-ferred to the unity found in the sacramental encounter; and second, that one dimension be not emphasized to the detriment or exclusion of the others. In no way are we attempting a complete theology of the sacrament of penance. 1. Personal Dimension In ~he past some confusion regarding the nature of penance has resulted from a mistaken notion of the per-sonal dimension of this sacrament. The result of this confusion, in which the words "private" and "personal" were often erroneously interchanged,led to a dichotomy between theory and practice. Theoretically, penance was upheld as a public act of the Church, but in practice it was reduced to a private act of an individual. While always a personal act, penance is never a private act. The personal dimension of penance is essentially a conver-sion. Sin itself is personal. When approaching the sacrament of penance, one comes to accuse, not excuse oneself. Seeing sin as a transgression of a law, a mere external act or even as a failure in one's own moral growth is not to comprehend it as a personal rebellion against God. "The Old Testament. concept of sin is, as it were, the reverse of the Old Testament concept of God." 5 More than a mere act, sin is a state or condition of the person who has turned from his original commit-ment to God. According to St. Thomas Aquinas, the matter of the sacrament of penance is the very person of the penitent:6 "Leave me, Lord; I am a sinful man." 7 Before shedding this burden, the sinner must first ac-knowledge it as his own. In the initial acts of the sacra-ment of penance the penitent assumes his responsibility for and accuses himself of this sinful condition. Thus, the religious in the devotional confession approaches the sacrament as a sinful person. Far too much emphasis in such confessions has been placed on the legalistic recital of specific acts and not enough on the condition of the sinner. ¯ Lk 15:31-2. ~ Louis F. Hartman, C.Ss.R., (tr.), Encyclopedic Dictionary oI the Bible (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1963), p. 415. 6St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae (New York: Benziger, 1947), 3, 84, 1, Reply Obj. 1, 2, 3. 7 Lk 5:8. It follows, then, that the sorrow of the sinful ]~erson must likewise be personal: a sorrow which emanate from the sinner's very being, a sorrow which is rooted in the fact of her sinful condition, a sorrow which resul~s in a conversion of the whole person to God. Neither regret nor remorse are adequate expressions of true sorrow. Re-gret applies primarily to actions for which one is not personally responsible. Remorse, on the other h~{nd, is a counterfeit of true sorrow and falls short of the~ mark in that it remains preoccupied with one's own ~ainful condition with no desire for reparation. True sorrow, however, is found in a theologically and psychologically sound understanding of repentance which spnngs from faxth, is sustained by hope, and culminates ~n love." s At the heart of true repentance is a vital movement of hope--that hope which ~nspirIe .s the sinful person to return to the Father who fo~rglves. Within this context of hope the sinful person experi-ences contrition or sorrow of a communal and personal nature--communal because of the evil done to the [Chris-tian community, and personal because of the evil done to oneself by offending the Holy Spirit. Note, however, the other-centeredness' or love-centereOness ot tins repentance. Another characteristic of true repentance is a s~ncere humility in which the sinful person perceives his situation with truth. Essential to the notion of re-pentance is also the desire for reparation--"a ppsitive loving attitude which he must adopt m order to sausfy for the evil committed insofar as that is possible." The whole dynamism of repentahce culminates' in a turning of the whole person to God: Even if there should be no new sins since the previo,~s con-fession or if sin has already been forgiven in previous sacra-ments and contrition, the Christian, e.g., in the devotional con-fession, stillengages in meaningful action: he makes sacrament or sign to God that he is a sinner, contrite and grateful in praise of God s mercy. He witnesses sorrow not merely for sepa-rate acts of sin, but sorrow that he the person has separated himself from the Father's love. He witnesses the turning, re-begun or continued, of his whole person back to the Fatt~er.1° In this sense we speak of the personal dimensioni ~f the sacrament of penance as metanoia or conversion:l"It is not the unconditional absolution, but the 'sacramentali-zation' of the human acts which constitutes, wi~h the pardon certified by the words of the priest, the [ ;acra-s Charles Davis, "Penance," an unpublished lecture deliv red at The Divine Word Centre; London, Ontario, on October 12,11966. ~ Pierre Remy, S.M., "Theolog~ of the Sacrament of P~nance" in M.-B. Carra de Vaux Saint:Cyr et al., The Sacrament of ~enance (Glen Rock: Paulist Press, 1966), p. 69. / ~°Roderick Hindery, O.S.B., "Penance, the Sacrament 6f Con-version," Homiletic and Pastoral Review, v. 65 (1964), p. 205. ÷ ÷ ÷ Ctmtessions oI Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 985 ¯ ment of Penance." ix Thus the sacrament of penance is not limited to the confession-absolution encounter with the representative of the Church, but begins with the repentance of the sinful person. Indeed, this very move-ment of conversion, usually prior to the confession-ab-. solution encounter in our present rite, is one of the first fruits of penance: When a person has reached an achieved repentance in the sense of having reached .the moment of charity and the return to God in justifying charit); before confession, yet his con-version still needs to be rendered stable through the comple-tion of its ecclesial expression and in continuing the process of conversion is thus con-solidated, completed, in thus being fully expressed ecclesially. The whole process is sacramental and the sacrament continues to be effective because it continues to em-body and thus consolidates and intensifies the conversion.= ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis, $.0.$ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 986 2. Interpersonal Dimension Helpful in alleviating much of the routine that fre-quently accompanies the reception of penance is a deep understanding, enlightened by faith, of the sacrament as an encounter with Christ. This encounter is the very essence of the interpersonal dimension of penance. As stated in the previous section, the personal aspect of penance is essentially a conversion. This conversion is a recognition of, a turning toward Christ. In our sin-fulness we meet Christ, but we refuse to recognize Him. In our repentance we turn toward Christ in the mystery of His death and resurrection. Our actions must ex-press, must symbolize effectually the application of His death-resurrection in our lives. By this metanoia we die to our sin and rise to a new life in Him. The very act of repentance, the beginning of the sacramental process, is an encounter with the risen Christ, who is the source of the sinner's conversion. As a commemora-tive sign, penance actualizes those historically unrepeat-able actions of Christ. In this sense the sacrament brings about the same process of transformation undergone by Christ in His death-resurrection,la The encounter with the death-resurrection of Christ by one's own death to sin finds its fullest expression in the Church. Not only is the human community of the Church the embodiment of Christ in the world today, but the Church, through the sacraments makes Christ's redemptive action present in a particular time and place. Because penance is an action of Christ who embodies forgiveness through the Church's liturgical action and = Dom Claude Jean-Nesmy, Conscience and ConIession (Chicago: Franciscan Herald, 1965), p. 41. = Davis, "Penance." ~ Davis, "Penance." an action of the penitent who expresses sorrow arid re-pentance, it is an intense interpersonal encounter ~f per-son with Person. Charles Davis expresses this sacramen-tal encounter as "a meeting point where mutual personal union comes to fruition in an embrace and is~ thus intensified. Christ is present to us and we to Hiha." In the confession-absolution encounter--be it "com-munal or individual--Christ is present to us through the words and actions of His Church; we are present to~ Him through our words and actions acknowledging our sin-fu~ condition. Too often the interpersonal dimension of penance on the purely human level is either overlooked or Imini-mized. In auricular confession this encounter of Christ and the penitent is externally symbolized by thle hu-man encounter of the confessor and the penitent ~vhich . should be as meaningful as conditions and personah-ties permit. They should be present to one another as persons, not as automatons: "The sinner has ~o be brought into contact with God through his relatlqnshap with his confessor, as one man to another." 15 IJnfor-tunately, the present rite and traditional practices £re-quently militate against this mutual personal presence on the human level. 3. Ecclesial Dimension In considering the personal dimension of penance we have discussed the nature of the sinner's conversion; in examining the interpersonal dimension of penance we have attempted to describe how the sacrament is an en-counter not only with Christ's representative but with Christ Himself. This personal repentance, this personal conversion must be within the context of the Christian community. The sacramental meeting with Christ like-wise, takes place in and through the Church. No~ only as the sacrament of penance a gaft to each andivadual sinner, but it is also a gift to the Church as a ~,hole. Women religious belong to the People of God especially through their respective ~ommunities'bythe evangehcal~ " counsels which "join their followers to the Church and her mystery in a special way." 10 Therefore, the com-munal dimension of penance should have a special meaning for sisters whose mode of life is a visibl~ sign of the community life of the Church. | The current sacramental rite and practices dd not, 1~ Charles Davis; "The Sacraments Linked with Grace," a lecture delivered at The Divine Word Centre; London, Ontario, (Jctober 6, 1966. ~Adrienne von Speyr, Conlession, the Encounter with C ist in Penance(Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1964), p. 209. :e Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, paragraph 44. 4. 4. Conlessions oy Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 987 4. 4. 4. $i~ter M. Denis~ $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 988 as yet, adequately emphasize the presence of the ecdesial community. Nevertheless, the sacramental actions of re-pentance and the avowal of one's condition of sinful-ness signify the reconciliation and intensification of the penitent's union with the community, the People of God, the Body of Christ. Sound theology has always stressed the ecclesial character of penance: The res or thing, states Saint Thomas, which this sacrament, like the Eucharist, signifies, is ultimately the unity of the Church which sin disrupts, thereby affecting indirectly every member's life and strength in Christ.1. More recently, Schillebeeckx writes: The ecclesial effect of the Sacrament of Penance is recon-ciliation with the Church as the Sacrament of our reconciliation with God in Christ. The Church is the earthly manifestation of God's redeeming mercy, and confession is visible contact with the Church precisely under this aspect. It establishes us in the ecclesial status of penitents who, by the performance of the penance required by the Church and through the mercy of her absolution, become reconciled with God Himself.as From the first part of this study it was evident that many sisters and confessors had little or no realiza-tion of the ecclesial value of penance. The importance of this dimension is a theme which will be repeatedly stressed throughout the second part of this study. The spirituality of religious is shifting from a strongly in-dividualistic piety to a more balanced understanding of their solidarity with their brothers and sisters in Christ. With this deeper understanding of their social involvement, sin and consequent repentance will be re-alized more efficaciously in its relation to the hindrance or promotion of the reign of Christ in His Church upon earth. In the early Church the ecclesial character of pen-ance was so strongly emphasized that private confes-sion similar to the form in use today was not common until the seventh century. Although penance at this time was received only once in a person's life, the char-acteristic features of this early rite bring into sharp focus the communal and ecclesial nature of the sacra-ment. During this time the state of the sinful person corresponded directly to his exterior situation in the Christian community. After a private confession of sins to the bishop and a public avowal of one's interior state the penitent was cut off from participation in the Eu-charistic celebrations and the prayers of the commun-ity. When he attended the Liturgy of the Word, he re- 1~ Hindery, "Penance, the Sacrament of Conversion," p. 207. aSE. Schillebeeckx, O.P., Christ the Sacrament o] the Encounter with God (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 174. mained in sackcloth and ashes at the back of the Church: "In response the entire community prayed for him, join-ing its penance to his. To state it another way, the prayers and penance of the guilty ones were assumed into those of the community." 19 Just before Easter, if the bishop deemed the sinner to be wholly converted to God, he was dramatically ad-mitted to complete reconciliation with the Church. Ab-solution was public and the penitent was led to his place within the faithful where he was once more ad-mitted to communion with Christ and with his brothers. Then, as now, it is "through a corporate action, a rite of the Christian community, that .the Christian's repentance is sealedl consecrated and brought to its con-clusion." 20 In the sense that penance is an action of the Church it is thus a corporate action, not merely the private ac-tion of an individual. Everytime this corporate action is performed the pilgrim Church comes closer to God, and the members within the Church are more united to each other and thereby to God in Christ. In a paper given at a convention of religious canon lawyers of the East-ern United States, Father Cornelius Van der Poel, C.SS.P. strongly recommended that steps be taken to "increase the awareness of the social dimension of the sacrament in which as a community all come closer to God, and each individual becomes more closely attached to the community, since all forgive all for the sake of Christ whose holiness they express." 21 4. Cultal Dimension Often there is a tendency to regard the sacraments only as a means to salvation and to fail to appreciate their value as symbolic acts of worship. Particularly helpful to sisters who make frequent devotional confes-sions is an understanding of the sacrament of penance as an act of worship. Herein lies its cultal dimension. In both the administration and the reception of pen-ance, cultal values are easily neglected because of the emphasis on the individual penitent. Implicit in the confession of one's sinful state is a confession of, a wit-ness to the mercy, justice, and holiness of God. Thus the p~nitent's attitude is directed toward God and does not become wholly immersed in self: "As every sin is anti- 19M.-B. Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr, O.P., "The Sacrament of Penance: An Historical Outline" in Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr et al, The Sacrament of Penance, p. 20. ~ Paul Anciaux, The Sacrament of Penance (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1962), p. 9. = Cornelius Van der Poel, C.Ss.P., "The Confessions of Religious," Jurist, v. 26 (1966), p. 226. ÷ ÷ Contessions ot Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 989 cultal at its root, a failure of worship, because it makes not God but self the center, so conversion iscultal, an act of worship." ~2 Like the repentant Peter, the sinner's confession is "more than a mere act of self-accusation: it is a confes-sion of love." 23 "Lord, you know everything; you know I love you." ~4 In spite of the pain and difficulty some-times associated with the sacrament of penance, the sister-penitent would do well to reflect upon her con-fessions and see them in their true perspective--within the context of the official cult or worship offered to God by the Church. PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS The theoretical justification of the following sugges-tions for maki~ng the reception of penance more mean-ingful to women religious is based on the theological dimensions of penance just discussed,, and the practical-ity of these suggestions is hopefully derived from the pre-cise areas posed as problems by confessors and sisters (see Table 1). Some of these suggestions can be effected immediately in most ~ituations; others call for modifi-cations which can only be made by those on the admin-istrative or legislative levels. The primary concern of all should be directed toward expressing the full signifi-cance of the sacramental encounter. To this end, recommendations will be made concern-ing the freedom of the individual; sacramental train-ing; the examination of conscience; the whole area of the confessional dialogue including the relationship be-tween the confessor and penitent, the telling of sins, the role of the confessor and spiritual direction; the en-vironment of the confession; and the sacramental rite. + 4- + Sister M. D&enOls.S~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 99O 1. Freedom At the basis of most sisters' problems concerning penance is an almost uniform lack of physical fxeedom regarding frequency,-time, place, and the choice of con-fessor. Immediate steps should be taken to reform pres-ent legislation, that is, canon law and religious rules, and the equally 'binding local customs surrounding weekly confessions for religious in order to insure fxeedom and liberty of conscience. The present canons on the confessions of women re-ligious and their confessors were framed in a specific historical milieu and necessarily reflected the circum- = Hindery, "Penance, the Sacrament of Conversion," pp. 207-8. m B. Hiiring, C.Ss.R., ,4 Sacramental spirituality (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965), p. ~tJn 21:17. TABLE I Diffr~ulties Encountered by GonJessors and Sisters in the Sacrament of Penance Cited by 66 Confessors Di~culty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training . Examination of conscience. Impersonal relationship . Confessor not understanding. Environment . Rite . Number of Con-fessors 33 12 36 16 30 5 8 35 20 Cited by 133 Sisters Difficulty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training. Difficulty in confess-ing . Impersonal relation-ship . Confessor not under-standing . Parish priest for con-fessor . Lack of suitable di-rection . Environment . ,. Rite . Number of Sisters 53 0, 36 36 51 10" 56 93 38 "23 sisters have their parish priest as confessor stances of the time. Most women religious, to all in-tents and purposes, were cloistered. Even the active orders, the majority of which originated since the eight-eenth century, were relatively sheltered. Since the sis-ters did not normally leave the convent easily, the weekly visit of the confessor became an established institution. Ironically, laws which were made to insure freedom of conscience at one time in history, became tyrannical and inhibiting in another era. The interpretation of canon 595, section 3: "Superiors should see to it that all religious.approach the sacrament of penance at least once a week" has been a moot question. What-ever the true interpretation may be, the fact is that .too often, in too many convents, and to the detriment of too many persons, the canon has been literally interpreted and sisters were forced to approach the sacrament weekly, In January, 1966, the Committee on Religious Affairs of the religious canon lawyers of the Eastern United States unanimously agreed that these sections of the Code of Canon Law should be thoroughly re-vised, an Without waiting for canonical reformation, future chapters of religious women should examine their re- Van der Poel, "The Confessions of Religious," p. 214. 4- 4- 4- Conlessions ot P~ligio~ Women VOLUME 26, 1967 991 Sister M. Denis, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS spective rules and delete all legislation binding sisters to the reception of the sacrament at specified intervals. Many sisters are disturbed by such passages in their rules which they consider to be binding. What is in the area of personal conscience cannot be legislated for an entire community. In localities where literal interpretation of canon law does not prevail, and the religious rule does not pre-scribe weekly confession, the sisters should not be obliged by custom to receive the sacrament of penance weekly. To the superior, the Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life enjoins: ".he must make a special point of leaving them appropriately free with respect to the sacrament of penance and direction of conscience." 26 The ~requency of reception should be governed by each sister's needs and desires~both of which are fostered by an intelligent appreciation of the sacrament of penance. As was suggested by many on the questionnaires, the sisters, where possible, should be free to receive the sac-rament of penance wherever they wish and to whom-ever they wish. This would involve a radical departure from the present custom of confessors appointed to come weekly to the convent. Sisters today have great .freedom of movement. To say that they are not able to go out of the convent for confession whenever needed is unrealis-tic. Several cloistered religious expressed a desire for this same freedom. It is deplorable that in existing sit-uations, women religious do not have the same freedom regarding the reception of the sacrament of penance as do lay people. On paper, for example, Quum de Sacra-mentalibus, 1913, sisters are ensured the liberty to con-less outside the convent whenever they wish; but until the whole convent structure of weekly confession is mod-ified, this freedom remains in the realm of theory and is not effective in fact, as most sisters will attest. Instead of the confessor coming weekly to each con-vent for confessions, he could come at regular intervals to be determined at the local level, for a communal penance service. More will be said later concerning a communal rite, but we would here recommend that in ¯ such a communal penance service, private confession be not of obligation for the reception of the sacrament. Such an arrangement would greatly relieve both the overburdened confessors and confessers. Regular ar-rangements for freedom of access to penance could be made locally for sick and infirm sisters. ~Decree on the Appropriate Renewal oI the Religious LiIe, paragraph 14. 2. Sacramental Training In spite of the flood of recent literature on penance, the questionnaires revealed that very few sisters have had any mature training to deepen their knowledge and appreciation of this sacrament they receive so often. Much of the routine reception encountered can be di-rectly attributed to personal ignorance--and invincible ignorance at that. Many sisters expressed a wish to have a better theological understanding of penance, particu-larly as an encounter with Christ and as an ecclesial act. ' Authorities cannot presume sucl~ training or expect that sisters somehow r~ceive the help needed through reading, retreats, or sheer spiritual osmosis. Such a pro-gram must be consciously planned and applied accord-ing to local constitutions and the needs of the sisters. It should be theological in scope and practical in applica-tion. Just as it is hardly realistic to presume that the preparation for one's first confession is sufficient for a lifetime, so also is it unreasonable to believe that a thorough grounding in the novitiate is adequate for one's whole religious life. Indeed, there are novitiates which do not even include in their formation programs a study of penance and its place in the life of a religious. All life is a growth; and a life in and for Christ is no ex-ception. Beyond the novitiate and juniorate, provision should be made for continuing education in this sacrament which plays so important a role in the life of a religious. In addition, to personal reading, the sisters in each house, as a community, could study recent books and articles on the subject. Superiors might provide tapes by prominent theologians; local confessors or compe-tent priests might give dialogue conferences on the sub-ject. Discussions where the sisters of a given house could share their insights and solve their common problems would be another valuable means for deepening one's knowledge and appreciation of the sacrament. The following outline suggests topics to be included in a program of study for religious women on the sacra-ment of penance. Every topic in this or similar pro-grams should bear directly on the individual sister's reception of penance that she may receive this sacra-ment with. greater meaning and hence derive much spiritual benefit. The appended references, which are by no means exhaustive, were selected primarily as basic sources because of their practicality, timeliness, and simplicity of approach. Conlesslons o! Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 993 ÷ + ÷ Sister M. DS.eOn.iSs., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 99,t Program of Study I. Sacramental Theology A. Nature of the Sacraments in General B. Nature of the Sacrament of Penance I. Personal Dimension--as a Conversion 2. Interpersonal Dimension--as an Encounter with Christ 3. Ecclesial Dimension--as a Reconciliation with the Christian Community 4. Cultal Dimension--~'as an Act of Worship C. History of the Sacrament of Penance D.Pertinent Legislation 1. Vatican II Documents 2. Canon Law 3. Religious Rule II. Nature of Religious Life III. Nature of Sin IV. Examination of Conscience V. The Actual Confession of Sins VI. Relationship with the Confessor VII. Spiritual Direction and the Sacrament of Penance Basic References on Penance I. M.-B. Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr et al., The Sacrament of Penance. Glen Rock: Paulist Press, 1966. Paperback. An excellent compendium of modern theological thought on penance. The following four chapters, containing a good balance of theory and practice, are especially ,helpful: "The Sacrament of Penance: An Historical Outline '--A summary of the changes that have taken place in understanding this sacrament from the early Church to Vatican II. "Theology of the Sacrament of Penance',--Particularly clear and penetrating theological study in which the various dimensions, especially the ecclesial dimension, of penance are investigated. "Con-fession and Spiritual Direction in the Oriental Church"--A study of how the Eastern Church has been more faithful than the Western Church in maintaining a perspective of the sacrament that is closer to that of the early Church. "Toward a New Examination of Conscience"--A modern effort to renew the examination of conscience in a wider vision of a few funda-mental convictions on which the true destiny of man is con-structed before God. 2. Adrienne yon Speyr. Confession: The Encounter with Christ in Penance. Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1964. A non-technical treatment, based on trinitarian theology and the mission of Christ, of the entire sacramental process. Von Speyr thoroughly penetrates the inner meaning of penance and successfully integrates confessibn into the Christian's everyday encounter with Christ. Especially enlightening are the chapters on the confessions of religious, the confessions of contemplatives, the confession in active orders, the practice of confession, and the office of confessor (which includes spiritual direction). 3. Bernard Htiring, C.Ss.R. A Sacramental Spirituality. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965. A treatise on sacramental theology, simply s~ated, which leads to a prayerful understanding of the sacraments. The section on me grace of confession, pp. 95-106, is one of the most helpful treatises on the cultal dimension of penance. The section on the Church as a "sacrament" of willingness to do penance, pp. 109-118, places the sacramental action in its ecclesial context. 4. E. Schillebeeckx, O. P. Christ the Sacrament of the En-counter with God. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963. Difficult reading, but basic sacramental theology. Par-ticularly helpful in understanding penance as an encounter with Christ. 5. Roderick Hindery, O.S.B. "Penance, the Sacrament of Con-version," Homiletic and Pastoral Review, v. 65, (1964), pp. 203-8. An outstanding popular treatment of the four theological dimensions of penance with practical suggestions for imme-diate and long range implementation. 6. Roderick Hindery, O.S.B. "Confession and Legalism," Sisters Today, v. 38 (Jan., 1967), pp. 157-61; and "The Sacrament of Penance and Cheap Grace" in Sisters Today, v. 38 (Feb. 1967), pp. 188-93. Both articles are directed toward sisters who make frequent devotional confessions. An attempt to dispel former legalistic attitudes by replacing them with a positive theol6gical under-standing of sin, conversion, and penance. 7. Dale Olen, O.F.M.Cap. ',Devotional Confession," REviEw for R~.Lxc~ous, v. 25 (1966), pp. 1030-41. A successful effort to raise routine and mechanical confes-sions back to their proper place as truly decisive moments in the Christian experience. 8. L. J. Lebret and T. Suavet "Examination of Conscience for Adults," Crosscurrents, v. 7 (1957), pp. 289-93. A unique examination of conscience which indicates many deviations and omissions which are not usually mentioned but which tend to diminish the freedom of the individual in his relations to God and man. 9. William Barclay. The Plain Man Looks at the Beatitudes. London: Fontana Books, 1963. Paperback. An examination of the meaning of the beatitudes for modern man in the light of the Old and New Testaments and biblical language. 10. R. Howe. The Miracle of Dialogue. New York: Seabury, 1965. Paperback. Contains penetrating insights for the sacrament of penance if read with the confessional dialogue and the relationship of the confessor and penitent in mind. 11. PSre Gardeil, O.P. The Holy Spirit in the Christian Li[e. London: Blackfriars, 1953. Thomistically oriented, prayerful treatise on the gifts of the Holy Spirit with a chapter on each corresponding beatitude. 12. Dom Claude Jean-Nesmy. Conscience and Confession. Chi-cago: Franciscan Herald, 1965. Especially intended for those who cannot undertake a systematic study of modern historical and theological works on penance. Emphasis is on the concepts of God, others, and future, rather than sin, me, and the past. Pages 113-26 contain an examination of conscience by referring to the New Testa-merit-- not a "list" in the usual sense. 3. Examination of Conscience The whole area of sisters' examination of conscience was viewed with sharp criticism by priest-confessors and with great dissatisfaction by sister-penitents. Unfortu- 4" 4" 4" onfessions ot Religious Woraen VOLUME 26, 1967 995 ÷ 4, ÷ Sister M. Denis, .~: S.O.S. REVIEW FOR REFIGIOUS nately, the examination of conscience tends to dwell on minutiae, on petty violations of the rule and cus-toms; for many it is negative and legalistic, a stereo-typed catalogue of failings, entirely too introspective, pertaining to self and not to social obligations, center-ing on actions rather than on the root causes (the in-ner dynamism which B. H~i{ing terms "acts" 27) or at-titudes of which actions are only the external signs. These criticisms may be reduced to the fact that the sisters' examination does not truly and authentically re-flect her personal condition before God. Rather, atten-tion is deflected to certain external factors--to one's rule, the teaching of the novice mistress, or most often to one of the many current "lists" which purport to be aids. The sister should examine her conscience accord-ing to her lights not her lists. Whatever is patently sin-ful or deliberately.opposed to the commandments of God, the rule, or the vows will be readily apparent without undue scrutiny. The examination, therefore, should be an aid to a healthy self-knowledge and center on one's trends and attitudes. For any real progress, sis-ters have to alter this mentality which is concerned with delineating every little point laid down by some-one else. The human person cannot be put into neat and sharp categories. Keligious, although they live in com-munity, are no exception. One wonders if religious would have such difficulty with the examination of conscience if it were not for the auricular confession that follows. The longer a woman is in religious life, the more intense this problem becomes. Perhaps the answer lies in the following com-ment of Father Louis Monden, S.J.: As the inner life grows stronger, the same phenbm~non may occur for the confession of sins as happens in prayer: it be-comes increasingly poor in ideas and in words.= Certainly the strain would be greatly mitigated by com-munal penance in which th~ sister presents her sinful person for absolution without having to be concerned over suitable verbalization. In the Oriental Church the sinner "does not consider the offence against God or the objective violation of the law in the act of his sin. His own iniquity is the center of his sorrowful meditation and draws forth his tears; he grieves for having distorted the image of God in his heart." 29 However, the fact re- ~Bernard H~iring, C.Ss.R., The Law o[ Christ, v. 1, (Cork: Mercier Press, 1960), p. 89. = Louis Monden, S.J., Sin, Liberty, and Law (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965), p. 51. ¯ ~* Philippe de Regis, S.J., "Confession and Spiritual Direction in the Oriental Church" in Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr et al, The Sacrament of Penance, p, 84. mains that auricular confession is still customary in the western Church. Because of the uniqueness of each human per.son, an examination of conscience cannot be taught; its method must be fostered. The principles which follow might serve as a guide by which a sister can develop her own method of self-examination without resorting (o "lists" or confessional aids. At certain times detailed examina-tion lists may be beneficial and should be used. Two such examinationss° are very useful in helping to erad-icate a legalistic mentality concentrating on external detail. These authors have composed penetrating ques-tions which attempt to plumb the depths of the moral personality. A sister would do well to study these lists; then attempt to incorporate this spirit and new direc-tion in her own personal examination. However, slavish adherence to a certain manner of examination is too restrictive and does not leave room for consideration beyond the categories on the printed page. Furthermore, if used, the sister should seek to understand the rea-sons behind certain failings. Many make the mistake of using these lists for the verbalization of confessional matter. Principles Ior a Personal Examination of Conscience: First, the examination ol conscience is based on the New Testament morality of love. At the center of New Testament morality is the person of Jesus Christ. His moral precept which was the fulfillment not the repetition of the Mosaic Law can be summed up in the word "love." And this love was exemplified in His human life: "Jesus went about doing good."al Quite radically, Christ spelled out the moral blueprint for a life of love in the sermon on the mount where He enun-ciated the beatitudes (Mr 5:3-11). Indeed, the remain-der of the sermon on the mount might be consid-ered a further elucidation of these initial principles. Through prayerful meditation each sister could discover the implications of the beatitudes in her ,life; in them are contained the core of Christian commitment,a2 The first beatitude of poverty of spirit could be approached as follows: ~o L. J. Lebret and T. Suavet, "Examination of Conscience for Adults," Crosscurrents, v. 7 (1957), pp. 289-93. P. Liege, O.P., "Toward a New Examination of Consciehce" in Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr et al, The Sacrament of Penance. 81 Acts 10:38. aUTwo very helpful references on the beatitudes are: William Barclay, The.Plain Man Loolts at the Beatitudes (London: Fontana Books, 1963); P~re Gardeil, O.P., The Holy Spirit in the Christian Li]e (London: Blackfriars, 1953). + 4- 4- Con]essions o~ Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 99~ 4- S~t~r M. S.O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 998. Some New Testament Relerences Mr. 6:24 Luke 10:38-42 Mr. 6: 25-34 Luke 12: 33--4 I Th 4:11-2 Jn6:27 Col. 3:23 Related Themes (to be applied in one's own situation) The balance and tension between detachment and involvement. Complete trust and faith in God. Openness to God and His Word encountered in the Eucharist, the Scriptures, and in our fellow-man. Recognition and .appreciation of the goodness in created goods. (Over-possessiveness is basically disrespect for the goodness placed there by God.) Acceptance of what we are and have. Utter dependence on God alone, not on self, law, ritual, or institution. Complete abandonment. Poverty according to our religious profession. Personal responsibility for communal witness of poverty. Another fruitful source for an examination based on the law of love is St. Paul's First Episde to the Corinthians, Chap-ter 13, 1-7. Dora Claude Jean-Nesmy has prepared a positive program, meditative in form, for an examination of conscience based on key texts of the New Testament.TM Second, the examination of conscience reflects the per-son's basic options. Moral considerations have been en-riched by religious psychology with the concept of "op-tion"--" A choice, not with respect to a spedfic object, but with respect to the totality of existence, its mean-ing and direction." a4 At some point in his life a per-son acquires a basic orientation which influences either consciously or unconsciously all particularchoices. Lov-. ing God is a conscious choice of God, so much so that all other choices are influenced by this one--the fund-amental option. This permanent underlying tendency of the will is not necessarily expressly formulated; rather it is implicitly embodied in some particular choice. Once made, the fundamental option gradually deepens and pervades a person's whole moral life. Therefore, one's attitudes should be examined with reference to this basic set of the wilh To what extent has my choice of God been effectual in daily actions? Or the converse: To what extent have my daily actions reflected my funda-mental choice of God above all else? In this way, a religious can examine without undue introspection, the basic trends of his life. In addition to the fundamental Christian option, a sister, by her decision so.lemnly to vow total commit-ment to Christ, makes a further option which we shall term the religious option. By this option the religious ~ Jean-Nesmy, Conscience and ConIession, pp. 113-26. ~ Monden, Sin, Liberty and Law, p. sets her will in a particular direction--as a religious and as a 'member of a specific community. Here the basic orientation is influenced by the vows and the spirit of the religious institute. Here, too, the religious option penetrated the whole being of the person. In other con-texts the religious option is often spoken of as iden-tification with one's community. When a sister examines herself with respect tb this religious option, she is con-cerned with how she has effectually lived this fundamen-tal choice. Observing the vows and the rule are here considered not as legalistic ends in themselves but al-ways in reference to this free and deliberate choice. Finally, the sister's examination of conscience should be based upon what we shall call personal option. Here we are speaking of those intense moments of grace, those charisms by which a person approaches God as an 'T' to a "Thou." For Saint Teresa of Lisieux it was the Little Way. Real progess in sanctity is dependent upon faithfulness to the particular way Christ has called each one. The sister's response to this intensely personal call constitutes her personal option. Her examination of con-science then focuses on the extent of her fidelity to this life pattern. The cultal dimension of penance will thus have more meaning for the sister if she realizes that penance is an act by which these three options are re-newed and subsequently deepened. Third, the examination of conscience goes beyond the personal dimension to the social dimension. Sin and guilt can never be considered in isolation, for no man is an island. Therefore, in examining her conscience the sister must be aware of her solidarity with the hu-man community, the Christian community, and her own religious community. She cannot be concerned merely with her own failure but must bear her part of the im-personal and communal guilt of these three levels of so-ciety. One who criticizes the social group is usually not cognizant of the fact that she is really criticizing her-self. Self-criticism is not a bad thing, provided it does not remain sterile words. If a sister is dissatisfied with certain actions or inaction of her community, then she should examine the cause of her dissatisfaction. If the cause is within herself, then it likely can be traced to a weakening of one's own freely chosen option. If such cause truly rests in the social group, then she herself is, in part, responsible to the extent that she is a mem-ber of that group. In this connection Adrienne yon Speyr writes of a certain tension between one's own sin-fulness and the sinfulness of the group which also fails short of Christ's demands: "We confess as members of the Church, the community, and we have to take the ÷ ÷ 4. Contessions ot Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 999 ÷, 4" Sister M~ Den~s, $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I000 community along with us and include it in the ac-tion." s5 We do not wish to give the impression that an ex-tremely thorough examination of conscience is necessary before each confession. By following one or more of the above principles itis hoped that the sister will be able to construct for .herself an examination of conscience that is realistic, reflects the inner dynamism of her own life', and is open to growth in the Spirit. 4'. The Confessional Encounter Much of the frustration experienced by sisters in the confessional would be eliminated when they are given the ~ opportunity to confess whenever, wherever, and to whomever they wish. In spite of the difficulties posed by the present rite and environmental conditions of private confessions (which will be discussed later), .certain sug-gestions can be made in order to make this encounter a. more meaningful one. Since private confession ob-viously involves two people, the confessor plays an im-portant role in helping or hindering this sacramental encounter. If he regards the hearing of sisters' confes-sions as another task imposed on him, one cannot be sur-prised to find a corresponding attitude among the sis-ters. (a) The Relationship between Con[essor and Penitent. "As priest and penitent become aware that they are en-gaged not in an impersonal inquisition, administration, or treatment, but that together and personally they cele-brate the convei:sion of the sinner and the mercies of God, they will seek to express themselves like human persons." ~6 Detrimental to the interpersonal relation-ship necessary between confessor and penitent is a mech-anistic approach in which the confessor is seen as an absolution dispenser and the penitent as some disem-bodied voice in the dark. Each speak their part, in turn, according to a rigid formula and the ritual is over. Rather, a climate of love should pervade the confes-sional atmosphere with both parties manifesting mutual concern and mutual consideration. What Reuel Howe says :at;out dialogue has great significance for the con-fessional encounter:¯ Each must try to speak honestly out of his own conviction, discipline his subjective feelings, seek patiently to keep aware of the other as another person, and try to keep open to the meaning of everything that happens in the relationshipY ~Von Speyr, Con]ession, the Encounter with Christ in Penance, p. 157. ~ Hindery, "Penance, the Sacrament of Conversion," p. 205. ~ R. Howe, The Miracle oI Dialogue (New York: Seabury, 1965), After the penitent has revealed himself, the confessor, through his words of advice, admits the penitent to share in his insights and his life of prayer. Truly the Psalmist's words apply: "Deep is calling to deep." as In this most sacred of relationships dialogue becomes both communi-cation and communion in the Spirit: As each person speaks and responds honestly to the other, each moves toward the other and includes him. This kind of meeting between man and man cannot occur without an im-plicit meeting between man and God. To really see another is to see the Other, and to really love another is to love the Other.~ (b) Confession of Sins. Because of the natural reti-cence in revealing one's inner state, penitents often depersonalize their confession by resorting to conven-tional phraseology. Formalism rather than authenticity prevails. Quite often the penitent's words and inner feel-angs are only remotely similar. Although one should re-late one's sins and/or failings in a straightforward man-ner, indicating the nature of the act and the reasons which prompted it, the neat formula taught in grade school: "L__.about._.____times." is more often a hin-drance than a help in the confessions of mature women religious. In order to promote real dialogue the peni-tent's manner and tone should be conversational rather than recitative. More important than a detailed list of sins as to number and kind is a revelation of the status of one's heart by endeavoring to reveal the roots and in-terrelations of sins. The confessions of the religious should reveal the inner dynamism which guides her life --the dynamism which springs from her basic options. And since the religious is a member of a certain com-munity, her confession should reflect this fact: "The con-fession of a religious must bring out her failure., as a member of a particular order, whose basic character must come to the fore." 40 However, .there is and can be no panacea for the con-fessional act which should be regarded "not as a de-vice for obtaining juridical forgiveness, but as a peni-tential work which makes a truly humble, authentic, personal sacramental expiation of great value." 41 Truly penitential works are always painful and difficult. (c) The Role of the Confessor. Romano Guardini once referred to love of God and love of neighbor as a "live current completing a circuit from God to people, per- ~s Ps 41-2:7. ~ Howe, The Miracle o! Dialogue, pp. 105-6. ,OVon Speyr, Confession, the Encounter with Christ in Penance, p. 128. ,1 Davis, "Penance." ÷ ÷ ÷ Contessions ot Religious ~Vomen VOLUME 26, 1967' 1001 Si~Wr M. Denis, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1002 son to person, and back to God." 4~ In the sacramental encounter the confessor completes the circuit between God and neighbor. Because the sacrament is a sign the human element in penance cannot be slighted. Unfortunately, the words "involvement" and "open-ness" have tended to become cliches in modern thought and language. But the reality to which these words point is vital to the sacramental encounter. By his words, ges-tures, and attitudes the confessor must become person-ally involved in the sacramental action. Through him the Spirit speaks. In him the sister-penitent experiences a meeting with the forgiving Christ. As one confessor wrote: I think sisters are looking for more than a kind, well-in-formed, understanding confessor. They are looking for a kind, well-informed, understanding confessor filled with the Spirit of God. If there is a problem because some priests are stupid, there is even a greater problem because we are not saints, men 6f prayer, men who really believe in the power of the Spirit working through us and through the power of the Sacrament. The confessor should listen with complete openness, in-terest, and acceptance, striving to glimpse the unique in-dividuality of the other person. In keeping with modern sacramental theology the confessor should be more aware of his role as mediator and witness to the conversion of the penitent and less conscious of his role as judge. To concentrate only on the validity of the sacrament is to lose sight of the riches of the sacrament. In what very practical ways does the confessor help in making the sacrament of penance more meaningful for the sister? 1. By reciting the required prayers, formulae from the heart and not just from the lips. 2. By not rushing the sacramental encounter. 3. By actively listening to her account and/or problems. 4. By manifesting a sincere interest not only in what she says but also in what she is. 5. By a non-judgmental acceptance of her as a unique person whose approach to God is likewise unique, as a woman whose psyche is distinctly feminine, and as a religious whose sincere desire is to grow in Christ. 6. By offering words of enlightenment as well as words of encouragement. 7. By presenting an opportunity for her to open up but without being too inquisitive. 8. By helping her to delve into the motivation for her Quoted in Thomas Radloff, S.J., "Interpersonal Relationships," REvmw FOR RELmIOUS, V. 21 (1962), p. 547. sins and faults, not being satisfied with a mere cata-loging of sins. 9. By enabling her to see the workings of the Spirit in her life. 10. By endeavoring to embody not only the personal and interpersonal dimensions of penance but also the ecclesial and cuhal dimensions. 11. By creating the atmosphere for ~uitful dialogue in the confessional. 12. By striving to remove all vestiges of formalism. 13. By relating to the penitent as a person to a person. A word of caution is in order here. As indicated previ-ously in this study, the problems and their respective solutions surrounding the confessions of women relig-ious are interrelated and interdependent. It is apparent that the confessor cannot exercise his role properly un-less certain other structures and attitudes discussed in this study are modified. (d) Spiritual Direction. In speaking o[ spiritual direc-tion in the confessional, we are referring to the exhorta-tion or counsel offered by the confessor following the penitent's manifestation of conscience. The distinction between the sacrament of penance and spiritual direc-tion, even in the narrow sense described above, must always be maintained. The role of the confessor qua confessor is to set free from sin; the role of the confessor as director is to foster growth in Christ. Although the primary purpose of penance is the forgiveness of sins with absolution being the central act of the confessor, nevertheless, words of counsel traditionally have been an important and expected adjunct to the sacrament. In the age of assembly-line confessions, of necessity, con-vent confessors tend to minimize or neglect this area of pastoral guidance, but the need for spiritual guidance remains. The confessional is usually not the place for detailed and protracted spiritual direction, although the need may be discovered in the confessional. When speaking words of counsel to the penitent, the confessor must be conscious of his instrumentality. The manner in which he speaks is uniquely his, marked by his own personality, and is a self-revelation of his own life of prayer; but the content of his message comes from the Holy Spirit: His words, while uttered in the Spirit, must also convey his own personal involvement, his knowledge, his designs. He must manifest the fact that he acts along with the Spirit, and not speak in a languid, indifferent manner . The priest is there present at a process which makes a sinner into a saint, and his words must serve to accompany this transformation, in fact to lead the sinner to it; consequently, they must be so tender and + + + Conyessions o~ Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 1003 yet so telling, so penetrating, that the change is effected simultaneously with their utterance.'~ In proffering counsel to the sister-penitent the confes-sor should avoid two extremes: first, basing his exhorta-tion only on the weekly liturgy, becoming impersonal and contributing to routine reception; and second, re-ferring only to the matter just confessed, becoming sub-jective and unduly isolating the penitent's situation. Rather, he should seek to combine these two avenues by first commenting on the penitent's confession objec-tively, pointing out aspects and motives unnoticed by the penitent, always with a view to enabling the sister to draw practical conclusions herself; then, by relatir~g the penitent's situation to the broader spectrum of the Church, showing its relevancy to a point of doctrine or the current liturgy. The sister-penitent then sees her-self in the proper perspective of an individual before God and as a member of the Christian community. Even though spiritual direction in the usual sense of the terms is advisable for most sisters, the plain fact re-mains that suitable directors are few and far between. The confessor should be aware that, for many, the con-fessional exhortation, however brief, is the only source of personal advice. Therefore, his words should be chosen with care, knowing that the sister-penitent has come to intensify her union with Christ by the sacra-mental deed and its accompanying intimate personal as-sistance. ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. REVIEW ~oR REI.IGIOt~S 1004 5. Environment On the subject of the confessional environment, one confessor wrote: "It's difficult to experience the life-giving power of the sacrament in a vertical casket." Practically half of the priests and sisters who cited the environment as a problem wished improvements in the traditional confessional; the other half desired an open confrontation in a counseling-type room. Any improvements or changes in present confessional structures should reflect the theology of the sacrament, respect the penitent's right to anonymity, insure com-plete privacy, and provide for ordinary human com-fort- materially and psychologically. Women today, especially sisters, are very sensitive to their position in the Church. They should have the same right as men to confess wherever they wish and not be re-stricted to places approved for the confessions of women. Such rules do not apply to personal spiritual direction, oftentimes more intimate than the confessional encoun- ~Von Speyr, Confession, the Encounter with Christ in Penance, pp. 209-10. ter. Sometimes the sister would like to receive the sacra-ment of penance during a period of spiritual counsel-ling, but present legislation prevents this outside the approved confessional. When an individual sister desires to go to confession, she should be given the freedom to confess elsewhere, as for example, in a parlor. An ideal environment for the convent confessional would be a separate counseling room--bright, cheery, and airy--with a less formal atmosphere where one could go with openness and joy. Provision could be made for those who desire anonymity by having the tradi-tional confessional screen on one side of the room. On the other side, comfortable chairs could be provided for those who wish to see the priest directly (see diagram below). Thus both priest and penitent could converse in a normal tone without fear of being overheard. The merely psychological effect of space and light would strengthen the sacramental significance of renewal, of resurrection. Proposed Confessional-Room (Not drawn to scale) Left Side: Arrangement for an open confrontation with desk and chairs. Right Side: Arrangement for anonymous confession: (1) Screen (2) Confessor (3) Penitent. Since the ideal is usually far from the real, present convent confessionals should be examined carefully by the sisters concerned. The solutions to these problems are contained in the very recognition and acknowledg-ment of the problem, as indicated in Part I of this study. Where there is darkness, let there be light; where there are .poor acoustics, let there be soundproofing; where there is a curtain on the grill, let it be optional. The ingenuity of the sisters who use the confessional, not necessarily the architect who designed it, will pro-duce the most practical suggestions. Most sisters will answer any request for suggested improvements like the Sister who wrote: "Just give me a paper and pencil and a ruler, and I'll show you." 6. Rite Since most changes in the rite of the sacrament are beyond the scope of either the priest-confessor or the ÷ ÷ ÷ Contessions ot Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 1005 ÷ ÷ Sister M. $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1006 sister-penitent, we shall discuss the present private rit-ual, a communal ritual permitted by current legisla-tion, and finally, proposals for a communal ritual not yet permitted by Church legislation. The guidelines have been established by Vatican II: "The rite and for-mulas for the Sacrament of Penance are to be revised so that they give more luminous expression to both the nature and effect of the sacrament." 44 (a) Private Celebration of Penance. In October, 1966, the Bishops of Canada in a statement on the Liturgy of Penance wrote: "Individual or private celebration of the sacrament of Penance still retains all of its value: through personal contact and through the attitude of the priest, the penitent can truly experience the mercy of God." 45 Although the present rite leaves much to be desired in its signification of the various dimensions of penance, nevertheless, the penitent and confessor can seek to embody the significance of penance in mean-ingful words and actions. A slavish recitation of the "Bless me, Father . " formula only begets routine and is a hindrance to dialogue with the confessor. The peni-tent should simply ask the confessor for his blessing that she may have the grace to express her sinful condi-tion before God and His Church. The priest should wait until this request is made before giving his blessing with sincerity of expression. Then the penitent states the interval of time since" her last confession and any necessary information regarding her state in life before beginning the revelation of her state before God. Father Hindery suggests that the penitent endeavor to express the ecclesial and cultal aspect of the sacrament by be-ginning one's confession of sins with the words: "I con-fess to Almighty God and to the whole Church through you, Father, that I am a sinner and that God's mercy in renewing my. conversion is worthy of great praise." 40 If the penitent keeps in mind the value of her act as a personal conversion to God, and the intensification of her union with the community, she will have less diffi-culty in expressing herself. The confessor then offers a suitable exhortation bearing on the penitent's confes-sion, emphasizing the importance of this act as an en-counter with Christ. Instead of the usual three Hail Marys, some confessors are asking their penitents to do an act of kindness toward someone less fortunate. The penance, a means of reparation, should bear some apparent relation to the sins confessed. In some areas " Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 72. ~"The Liturgy of Penance," a mimeographed statement from the Canadian Hierarchy, Ottawa, October, 1966. ~ Hindery, "Penance, the Sacrament of Conversion," p. 207. the confessor asked the penitent to suggest a suitable penance for herself. (b) Present Communal Celebration. Earlier in this pa-per we recommended that communal penance be cele-brated at regular intervals. Under present legislation where both confession and absolution must be private and individual, communal celebration would be more meaningful from the ecclesial-and cultal viewpoint but would not relieve the overburdened confessor. For greater effectiveness these communal celebrations should be brief, consisting of a few opening words by the con-fessor, a carefully selected reading from Scripture, a brief homily bearing on the Scripture and the sacrament of penance, the singing of an appropriate Psalm, the redta-tion of the Confiteor (which is an admirable communal acknowledgment of one's sinfulness), a kiss of peace and mutual reconciliation, and individual confession and ab-solution. The kiss of peace and a suitable dosing hymn may be delayed until after the individual confessions are heard, particularly in a small group. (c) Proposed Communal Celebration. It is one of the main theses of this study that the liturgy of the sacra-ment needs to be completely revised so that it will an-swer real needs and become a vital sign: "The sacra-ments are immutable in their substance, for it was Christ who fixed once for all the central core. But the outer shell can vary according to the needs of time and place." 47 To this end we propose that sisters have ac-cess to a communal celebration of penance in which the individual ~onfession of sins be optional and be not necessary for the reception of the sacrament. Those who wish to confess privately should have the opportu-nity to do so at this or another time. For this celebra-tion, which could be more elaborate because of few or no private confessions, the celebrant would prepare a very timely homily from which the sisters could derive spiritual help. A public examination of conscience, directed by the confessor, with time for private exami-nation might be also included. Absolution would be communal. The solemn rite of the sacrament of penance, al-though archaic and omitted from recent editions of the Roman Pontifical, was rich in expressing the unity between God, the Church, and each Christian. A com-pletely communal celebration would witness to the sol-idarity of the Christian community. By her very pres-ence the sister proclaims her sinful condition before God, before the Church, and before her community. Together. with her community she becomes recondled to ,7 Carra de Vaux Saint-Cyr, The Sacrament o] Penance, p. 4. ÷ ÷ ÷ Conyessions ot Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 1007 God and to her sisters whom she. may have offended. As a corporate body they worship God in celebrating the sacrament of penance by praising His m~rcy. In the National Catholic Reporter Father Hindery lists six advantages of communal penance which stresses: 1. Less emphasis on our own sorrow and a greater re-alization of the forgiving action of Christ. 2. Greater expression of sorrow by an awareness of one's solidarity in sin and in the sorrow of others. 3. An intensification of penance as a reconciliation with God. 4. An accent on the full liturgical or worshiping dimen-sion of penance. 5. A restoration of Christian tradition which was prac-tically universal until the year 589 A.D. 6. An alleviation of the problem of rote and haste which breeds formalism.4s One can only hope that liturgical advances will has-ten the day when communal celebration of penance is possible in the manner outlined above. Theologically, there is very little problem with a communal absolution and the dispensation of individual confession (where grave sin has not occurred). To worship God publicly with our fellow Christians as a sinner and precisely in this character of a sinner is one of the most authentic acts we can perform. It is not sufficient to know and to realize the various theological dimensions of the sacra-ment of penance; one must be able to experience them effectually in a truly meaningful communal celebration. Slsger M. Denis, S.O~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1008 CONCLUSION In the introduction to his book, Conscience and Con- ]ession, Dom Claude Jean-Nesmy included a comment which applies equally well to. the impetus of this en-tire study on the confessions of women religious: "One cannot just choose to ignore the very frequent, precise and distressing complaints about the difficulty of con-fessing and about the deplorable conditions in which this sacrament is sometimes administered." 40 In order to ascertain the extent and seriousness of these complaints as objectively as possible a survey-questionnaire was sent to a crosscountry sampling of priest-confessors and sis-ter- penitents. That there were problems~serious prob-lems-- was established beyond doubt. The common de-nominator of these problems seemed to be a deadening routine. Both confessors and sisters indicated that lack ~s Roderick Hinder),, O.S.B., "Communal Penance in the Renewal of the Sacrament--Towards Fullness of Sign," National Catholic Reporter, v. 2 (October 19, 1966), p. 6. ~0 Jean-Nesmy, Conscience and Con]ession, p. ix. of freedom, time problems, insufficient training, unsuit-able examination of conscience, difficulty in confessing, an impersonal relationship, the confessor's lack of un-derstanding, spiritual direction, the environment, and rite were all contributory factors to this all-pervasive routine. The obvious interrelation of these problems calls for solutions which are likewise interrelated. In turn, inter-related solutions demand cooperation of all persons con-cerned from the sister-penitent to the priest-confessor to the bishop responsible for the pastoral care of his people. If the fundamental problem in the devotional con-fessions of religious is routine, then the basic solution is to counteract routine by bringing about a more mean-ingful celebration and reception of this sacrament. But a mere change in rite and externals is not sufficient. There must be a change in attitude. For the individual sister, this calls for a sound theo-logical knowledge of the nature and effects of penance. Her sacramental training must continue beyond grade school preparation for first confession and should be cen-tered on her state as a religious. In her examination of conscience and the subsequent confession of sins she will endeavor to reflect the inner dynamism of her life, not merely taking refuge in a stereotyped, deper-sonalized multiplicity of unrelated minutiae. The confessor's attitude toward administering the sac-rament of penance in general and toward each sis-ter- penitent in particular has a great effect on the meaningfulness of the sacramental encounter. Indeed, his role is so important, that should all other circum-stances be unfavorable, his openness, understanding, and helpfulness will result in much benefit for the sis-ter- penitent. His brief exhortatory remarks will be per-sonal enough to apply directly to the confession just heard, yet universal enough to lift the penitent out of herself into the wider perspective of the liturgy. Both participants should be aware of one another as unique persons striving for the fullness of the Christian life. From a healthy interpersonal relationship on the human level, both confessor and penitent will realize a personal encounter with the forgiving Christ. The sacra-ment, though of divine institution, is a human sign. Three factors, the rite, the environment and freedom of access, at the present time beyond the immediate con-trol of either the individual confessor or the individual penitent, contribute greatly to a more significant cele-bration of penance. The present environment should be a more effective symbol of life than of death. In ad-dition to a redesigned confessional room, which would + + + Ctmless~ns of Religious Women VOLUME 26, 1967 1009 allow for either anonymous confession Or an open con-frontation, the sister or any woman should not be lim-ited to "approved places." As the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (paragraph 72) noted, the present rite needs to embody visibly and experientially the theolog-ical dimensions of penance. The present crisis can be traced to certain deficiencies, which have been perpetrated for centuries, in .the ad-ministration and reception of penance. In turn, these deficiencies on the practical level can be traced to cer-tain limitations in theological thought stemming from the seventh century when the notion of the sinner's rec-onciliation with the ecclesia was de-emphasized by an overstress on his personal reconciliation to God. However, the first step in any solution to the many problems surrounding the confessions of women reli-gious is a rescinding of compulsion--either by law or by custom--to confess at stated intervals, in a stated place, to an appointed person. When sisters are given the re-sponsibility concerning their own sacramental needs, much of the routine and dissatisfaction will disappear both for the frustrated penitent and overburdened con-lessor. It was the ardent hope of the authors of this study that the su~estions and recommendations contained therein will not remain sterile but will be openly discussed by those concerned and followed by concrete action. Vati-can II is not over; it has just begun. The urgency ex-hibited by the conciliar documents is not limited to the hierarchy but is directed toward the People of God--- collectively and individually. Effective reform must be preceded by objective recognition, honest acknowledg-ment and open discussion of the problem. Then posi-tive suggestions will be fruitful: It we labor to re-establish the proper perspectives., then Penance, far from seeming a tiresome task which must be post~, poned to the last possible moment, will reveal itself as one of t~he most ei~cacious and most constant means by which we can be restored to a purifying and life-giving contact with the Church, with Christ, and with God.~° ~ Jean-Nesmy, Conscience and Conlession, p. xvii. $t~ter M. Denis, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS lOlO ELSIE GIBSON Protestant Women in Religion Catholic sisters and Protestant women minist.ers ten sense an underlying kinship when they become ac-quainted on college campuses or in dialogue groups,. Both have vowed .themselves to the service of God through Christ and the Church. True, the promises are different but the central intent is the same. Is there any similarity between our sense of vocation and that which moves nuns and priests to the religious life? How do our churches receive and direct our aspirations? What is our daily work? To find answers I sent a questionnaire to apprbxi-mately 300 ordained women most of whom belong to Churches engaged in the Consultation on Church Un-ion. There were no check lists, no multiple choice que-ries. My purpose was not to gather statistics but rather to gain a knowledge of persons, to discover what their experience has been and is, to learn what they are thinking today. One hundred fifty-eight responded to the questions. In addition, ten letters were received ex-plaining why the recipients were unable or unwilling to respond. Replies came from thirty-two states and. two from Canada. Differences do not run along denomina-tional lines but are within denominations. Generaliza-tions based on such an approach are, of course, impos-sible; nevertheless,'tentative impressions are made, and it is these which I shall try to convey in this article. The. first question was: (a) Why did you go into the ministry? (b) Why did you choose to be ordained? Please answer a, b, or both. Almost everyone answered both inquiries. I have grouped the replies loosely without trying to force their meaning into a preconceived mold. They over.lap and in a number of instances could have been placed in more than one category. ÷ ÷ ÷ Elsie (Mrs. Royal J.) Gibson lives at 197 Oxford Street; Hartford, Connecti-cut 06105. VOLUME 26, 1967 lOll 4" 4" "+ Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1012 1. Many went into the ministry because the Church was their life. They had never considered a vocation apart from the Church. "My earliest remembrance was in the direction of the ministry," says one. "My father was a circuit-rider then, and my mother helped him, teaching and preaching herself. My favorite game was playing deaconess (a Methodist order). Church work was as natural as breathing." Another reflects, "As I see it now, my call to the ministry was implicit in my coming to know God when I was eleven. At any rate, through my.high school years, I haunted the church so much that when I came home from some event I was greeted, 'Well, did you lock the church tonight?' It was a beauti-ful building to haunt, and the people I met there were excellent folks for a teen-ager to idealize." A third says that she was influenced by parents who were active church people: "Mother was Superintendent of the Pri-mary Department for 25 years and I worked with her when I was a teen-ager. Grandfather was a Presbyterian minister and missionary among Indians. I wanted to go, into foreign missionary service but was not accepted health-wise." "1 played minister rather than dolls, nurse or teacher," says another who never thought seriously of any occupation save the ministry. 2. A larger number trace their motivation to a "call." This word covers a variety of meanings and not every woman explained her use of it. One terse reply said merely, "God's call.'" The majority, however, wrote a paragraph or more. "Originally I went to seminary with the intention of becoming a director of religious education. During the two years required in the School of Religious Education, the call to the parish ministry gradually began to germinate. I had several deeply re-ligious experiences during this~ time which had more to do, I think, with the [ellowship with other students than with the actual courses I was taking. I fought hard against any idea of going into the parish ministry, know-ing that there would be a great deal of opposition from my family and having my own particular antipathy toward women ministers! Nevertheless, by the time 1 received the M.A. in Christian Education, I had de-termined to stay on an additional two years to earn a B.D. I still had in mind the possibility of the teaching nfinistry, and how I actually wound up as a parish min, ister I really do not know. It just happenedl As each opportunity has presented itself to me, I have taken this as an indication of the ways in which God would have me serve, and have always found such service to be very satisfying to me." Another offers this interpretation: "I went into the ministry because I felt a definite call from God. I would like to explain that I am a member of the Friends Church, and we do not ordain ministers. Our belief is that only God ordains: it is a work of the Divine and man cannot ordain. Thus, according to our Friends Faith and Practice which is similar to the statements of doctrinal beliefs and organizational practices of other denominations, a minister of the Gospel is 'recorded.' Actually the process of recording of a minister in the Friends Church is equivalent to that of ordination in other denominations." An interesting underscoring of her point is found on page 147 of Faith and Practice, sent to me by another Friends' pastor: "And, since the Friends' concept of the recording process is the Meet-ing's recognition of one's Christian character and grace in the ministry, it appears quite outside the Quaker spirit and temper for any one to 'ask' to be recorded a minister! Such a request would seem to be fairly clear evidence to a Monthly Meeting on Ministry and Coun-sel that the time had not yet arrived for action." So, even in a Society as free as the Friends, it is the Church that decides. A Disciples of Christ minister writes: "I think I can say that, although I'm convinced I was called of God, it was through a series of circumstances over a number of years that led me to the final decision to enter the min-istry. I'm sure that if I had been a man, friends in the church would have suggested it much sooner." This explanation is given by a woman in the United Church of Christ: "I did not intend to become ordained when I sought my B.D. but the urging of the minister under whom I worked and the Dean (of the Seminary) made me think of it and I finally got to the point when I had to say 'Yes' rather hoping ! would not be ac-cepted by the association as I was not going into the pastoral ministry. But they--and my advisers--seemed to think I should find a rich pastoral ministry on the college campus and I must say I have. Chaplains are usually men and both men and women at times need a woman for consultation, confession, reassurance." Others said, "An experience of personal revelation too dramatic to relate in a questionnaire," and "a strange compulsion which I never quite understood" but which "as I look back on it now, I believe was the way that God 'called' me." An element of resistance to God's call runs through a number of the responses I received. Choices which in-volve risk are easy for no one. Women heading toward the ministry may face family disapproval or resistance on the part of the church and society with corresponding economic pressures. Years must be given to education with little assurance of the rewards that usually fol- 4" + ,4- Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1013 Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1014 low such effort. So it is not. surprising that crucial de-cisions were postponed. One woman, moved by a ~ollege course in New Tes-tament to devote herself to the Church, did volunteer so-cial work and served as pastor's assistant. She then took nurses' training and spent a year in Public Health nurs-ing which "confirmed me in the conviction that the basic and most urgent need of all sorts and conditions of men is spiritual, and made me want to spend my life in seeking to minister to that need through the church." She is now a pastor. After serving ten years as a professional worker in both YWCA anal Girl Scouts, another relates that she "felt a real need to combine my professional skill in Camping with nay concern for Christian Education. It was recommended to me by both local and national" leadership of my denomination that I should seek, there-fore, the BD degree instead of the MRE." One who was working on her doctorate in mathe-matics turned instead to the ministry with this account: "There were two elements in this choice: the feeling of the need of people for what the Gospel could offer and a definite sense of 'call.' Without this sense of call, I'm not sure that I could have persevered. This has been a basic continuing element and accompanied by just as certain a sense of being guided. Both are hard to de-scribe. They do not make for any constant self-assured certainty on the conscious level but rather for a deep sense of urgency and commitment." 3. The third group makes no mention of a divine call but possibly the same summons has come through the voices of the world's need: "Desiring to go into the ministry but knowing my inadequacy to be a pioneer I delayed taking this step until I was almost fifty years, old. I delayed even after I graduated from Seminary. Then I was asked to preach in an isolated situation where i was needed. The experience of preaching con-firmed my belief that I ought to become a minister. Ordination naturally followed this." Another "felt drawn to full time Christian vocation and after a summer in the mountains of Virginia I saw a need for women ministers. The parish never had a trained minister because it could not support a man and family. I also observed the work of an Episcopal deaconess in the area and she did the practical work of a clergyman save for the sacraments." A pastor in Arkansas was "impelled by an overwhelm-ing desire to win souls for Christ and to minister to the needy--the sick and unfortunate. After some very ac-tive years I found it inconvenient to send for a man, minister to administer the Sacraments, to baptize and marry my parishoners. I have ministered in some more or less isolated areas and sometimes had to wait far be-yond reasonable time to get the help I needed," This woman, retired now after fifty-six years in the ministry received a certificate of honor from her denomination. "I have worked in the backwoods areas where I have assisted in making caskets for the dead and have been by the side of the doctors when the babies arrived," she recalls. At the age of seventy-eight she is preaching in churches that would otherwise be without services and making hospital calls where people confront major sur-gery. A number in this group were pressed into service dur-ing the war years by denominational officials who knew their gifts and potentiality. There are no typical replies, for every situation was different. 4. The vocations of man and woman sometimes merge when a couple meet in seminary and decide to marry. If the responses I have received are at all characteristic, this does not mean the disappearance of the woman's vocation though it may be so interpreted because she is not always listed in an independent position after the marriage. A United Church of Christ woman says: "My husband and I were ordained together in the first parish we served after leaving Seminary. I have never intended to b~ an ordained minister. But at that time it seemed to us that we wanted our ministry to be a partnership in service. We felt we could serve most effectively together if we were both ordained. I believe it has proved to be so." This woman has not been "employed" since her marriage. Their four children are either engaged in or preparing for full-time Christian service. A unique reply comes from a Baptist minister's wife who had had experience as assistant pastor in one church and as youth director in another: "I entered the pastor-ate because my husband was going to travel in his new position (denominational fund raising) and we had three small children whom I could not take around the coun-try, moving every couple of months." She was asked to remain in the church to which she was giving interim service and has been there thirteen years. The three chil-dren were in school at the time the decision had to be made. Their little son told his teacher: "My father is a preacher of funds; my mother is a preacher of the Gos-pel." 5. Those whom I shall include in this group have gone into the ministry through suffering--physical, in-tellectual, or spiritual. Two, giving specialized minis-tries, are victims of cerebral palsy. Others have been through agnosticism, loss of faith, or questionings so in-sistent they entered seminary to try to find answers a~ad ÷ '÷ "÷ Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1015 ÷ ÷ Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1016 ended with a vocation. Significant work is being done by widow~. One, now in her eighties, was widowed with five children at the age of thirty. Although she was a chnrch member, she found no consolation in her re-ligion; but she was slowly led, thr6ugh a combination of wise pastoral guidance and despair of her ability to go on, to such confrontation with Christ that she became a person of vital faith. In gratitude she offered her serv-ices, almost on impulse, to a home missionary of her church. She was appalled when opportunity became con-crete but has been outstanding in her devotion to New England rural churches. She took them into the work of the world long before The Secular City appeared and has been the recipient of four honorary degrees. "An early test came when she was called in the night by a parishoner whose wife had been murdered. Her minis-try in this circumstance had to be given simultaneously to the father of the man who, after committing the mur-der, took his own life. Another widow with four grown children is giving full time as a trained chaplain in two large city hos-pitals. Still another is teaching chaplain and minister in a home for unwed mothers. Other 'widows, whose hus-bands were ministers, have finished the necessary train-ing and are pastors of churches. II ~e have seen some of the factors that influence Prot-estant women to devote their lives to the Church. Since religious orders in Protestantism are small and limited to a very 'few denominations, they do not present an alternative to ordination to the woman who desires a full ministry. But how do churches receive a woman's Wish for ordination that she may serve more freely? The (then) Congregational Church met this question in an acute form in 18't7 when Antoinette Brown faced the authorities of Oberlin Theological Seminary ~ith her desire to become a candidate for the ministry. They' were horrified. Armed with unflagging courage and such biblical texts as Joel 2:28 (". I will pour out my spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall proph-esy," reaffirmed by Peter at Pentecost), she persevered and was ordained in 1853. The free churches have long recognized the ministry of women although the propor-tion of women to men remains small. When the Evangelical and Reformed Church entered into conversations with the Congregational Christian Churches, prior to the formation of the United Church of Christ, it had no ordained women. A woman of E. and R. background writes: "I felt drawn to the ministry as powerfully as an object is drawn by a magnet. I wanted to be ordained and enter into the full-time .min-istry, but. I believed our church would not ordain women., because there were none ordained . One of my professors whom I deeply admired and respected opposed ordination for women." She married a minister and served as fully as possible for ten years following her graduation from Seminary because "I was interested in serving the Lord and not in promoting ordination for women." When she learned that the absence of or-dained women in her denomination was due to the fact that none had applied rather than to the Church's re-fusal to ordain them, she made application, was ac-cepted without difficulty, and serves as associate pastor with her husband. Another woman, the first to be or-dained in a different denomination, says: ."My purpose in seeking ordination was to enable me to serve in and through the church better.'. It was only a means rather than an end." The Methodist Church, always strongly committed to the effort to recognize gifts bestowed by the Holy Spirit, faced problems with its women in the early twentieth century. They had been seeking an outlet for what the Spirit seemed to be saying within them. Due to its polity, the Methodist Church faced a more complicated problem than the free churches had confronted. But in 1919 women were granted local preachers' licenses and in 1924 provision was made for their ordination. They could not be admitted to an annual conference, how-ever, so they were not assured of placement in a local church. In 1919 the American Association of Women Ministers was formed under the leadership of Miss M. Madeline Southard and Mrs. Ella L. Kroft, both Metho-dists. An article by Miss Southard which appeared in a 1923 issue of The Woman's Pulpit says: "The original purpose .of our Association was to bring women who preach into fellowship with each other . Another pur-pose that developed as we planned and prayed was to secure equal opportunity for women in the ecclesiasti-cal world . The third purpose as stated in our con-stitution is to encourage young women whom God has called to preach." This group, including women ofo six-teen denominations with "others applying," refused to impose rigid doctrinal or educational tests for mem-bership although a large proportion of its women were college graduates, some with master's and doctor's de-grees. They also refused to make distinctions based on race. Men have been welcomed as associate members and are free to attend any meetings. The Association is small today, including only a frac-tion of ordained clergywomen. There are a number of reasons for this. Women of the nineteenth and early 4. 4. 4. Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1017 Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1018 twentieth centurihs were crusaders~for suffrage, tem-perance, abolition of slavery, and ecclesiastical status. The mo~lern woman does not want to enlist in the war of'the sexes; she wants cooperation with men in church and society. W. A. Visser 't Hooft, former general secre-tary of the World Council of Churches, has put it well: "The reason for the emancipation of women in the Church is not the barren fight for the r~ghtg of women, but the fruitful discovery of their spiritual gifts, of their full creative contribution." 1 The old image lingers in the Association but is changing under the influence of women, young and old, who see the new picture. Though probably not a member of the Association (I do not know), one woman expressed the new attitude of her sister ministers' thus: "I am a rather unorthodox member of the clan because I do not class myself as a woman minister, but as a minister. Woman minister seems as artificial to me as negro minister, tall minister, blonde minister, etc:" M~mbership in Methodist annual conferences was not opened to women until 1956 which means that they were not assured of placement until that time. To have this full participation, however, they must meet stiffer educational requirements. Some women are so well es-tablished and have been so successful in pastorates that they do not need to rise above the classification of "ap, proved supplies"; younger women will doubtless be go-ing on to become full members of annual conferences. The Presbyterian Church did not admit women to the preaching ministry at all until 1956. They were permitted to become ruling elders before that time: So ordained Presbyterian women are still having pioneer experience. One says that, in her first year as pastor of a church, "two situations were difficult: out of towners who Came to a local cemetery for interment preferred a man of another denomination to a Presbyterian woman pastor." Also, "a girl of my own congregation who was consulting about a wedding confessed she would not 'feel married' unless a man did itll We arranged with a Congregational minister. We both had a part in the service tho I would have preferred to be excused. The long-term results were good, however. The father later became a trustee of the church during my pastorate." She emphasizes the need for patience and t~ct during the period of transition and has had many gratifying ex-periences along with the difficulties which were un-avoidable. Another who, as an associate pastor was to share all 1 Quoted by Elsie Thomas Culver, Women in the Worl~t o[ Reli-gion (Garden City: Doubleday, 1967), p. 212. responsibilities with the senior minister, remarks: ". parishoners were somewhat nervous about a woman's preaching. I was, therefore, in the parish eleven months before preaching my first sermon. However, once I had preached there was no longer any opposit!on and even considerable enthusiasm about my preaching. There was salary discrimination against me as a woman. I regret to report that this continues in my present job." It is one thing for a denomination to permit the or-dination of women, but it is quite another thing for them to find assured acceptance in a local church. So-cial and psychological attitudes vary according to re-gion and according to the economic and educational background of the parish. A denominational official can recognize a woman's gifts and ability, and give her his full backing.He cannot, however, save her from pain-ful experiences growing out of the immaturity of those she goes to serve. It is for this reason that seminaries feel obliged to caution women against placing their hopes too high. One who teaches religion in a college says that the Pres-ident of her seminary told her she "would have more satisfying opportunities to preach (as a guest) if I be-came a college professor than if I went into the parish ministry." She found this true and others indicate the same advice and outcome. Those responding to the questionnaire, however, have been drawn to many types of vocation within the min-istry. Some are called to educational work and are easily guided into a teac.hing position. Others, wanting only to be useful, can adapt ~themselves to varied situations. But there are those who feel they must become pastors at any cost. "I was told in Seminary," one such a per-son says, "that because I was a woman, I could never expect to be called to a church of any size. I did not expect to, realized this, and have been content with churches under two hundred. Observation has shown that there are hundreds of men in the same sized churches and smaller. I cannot complain of the treat-ment I have received." Another says: "Since I had a real sense of mission I did not mind taking a small church and working at making it into a strong one. This has been my pleasure several times." No one admires self-pity and least of all in a servant of Christ, Many Christian men are trying to make it possible for women to accomplish the .work to which they believe God is calling them. A number of women voice their appreciation of this fact, one stating: "I have always accepted the fact that, being a woman, I ~vould not have a chance to serve in the 'desirable' parishes, but that has not bothered me, since I am + 4. 4. Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1019 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1020 somewhat missionary minded anyway. I have found that there are a small minority of men, in the ministry and in administrative positions, who have the same crusad-ing feeling about women's rights in the ministry that I have about civil rights, and I have been fortnnate in that one or two have usually been around to fight my battles for me." The mores of any society yield slowly; and while men are doing the fighting, women must exercise patience un-der scrutiny at all levels in the Church as their efforts are watched and examined and the fruit of their work evaluated. "I think it is by performance rather than pressure that women will come to be accepted as min-isters," one of them says, summing up the situation; and another observes: "Since my ordination I have found that generally speaking if one goes about one's work without fuss about 'difference' one is generally respected and usually accepted." III We turn now from the motivations and opportunities of these women to the work they are actually doing. First, a summary of the questionnaires. Eighty-0ne are serving local churches, 52 as pastors, 13 as associate or assistant pastors, one as nfinister to youth and 15 as ministers of education. Eight hold posts in Christian ed-ucation on the state or national level. Two hold execu-tive posts related to women's work. One serves as as-sociate minister of a conference. Eight teach: one is in a private school, serving also as chaplhin; four teach re-ligion at the college level; three teach in seminary (two other respondents having retired from seminary posi-tions). Two are full-time chaplains. Three are evange-lists. Five have gone back to school for further graduate work, one being in her last quarter of clinical pastoral training. Seven have a writing ministry, four of these having passed retirement age. Sixteen are wives whose work it is hard to classify because of its variety (married women also appear in earlier categories). Sixteen are re-tired, some being quite advanced in years but all re-maining as active as possible in interim and supply preaching, writing, and small group ministries. Seven are serving in institutions closely allied to the Church. Two might be said to have left the ministry but are still within the Church. The work of a Protestant pastor differs considerably from that of a priest. Baptism and Holy Communion are the only sacraments in most Protestant Churches and they require a rather small proportion of a minister's time. Weddings and funerals, not usually associated by Protestants with a sacramental ministry, do not take much time except in large churches with inadequate staffs. So the Protestant pastor is engaged in study and sermon preparation, conducting worship, pastoral call-ing, administrative work, and community service. He tries to visit the sick and to introduce the Church to newcomers of his own or perhaps no denomination in the locality, especially when such persons have appeared at a Church service or their need has been called to his attention by a parishoner who knows of their desire to see a minister. He may do counseling at the Church. He spends hours with lay persons who hold responsible positions--Sunday School teachers, deacons and deacon-esses, trustees, youth sponsors, and others. He works also with small groups meeting for Bible study and prayer, leadership education, and youth activities. This would comprise the week's schedule for a woman min-ister also. Reading between the lines of my responses, I dis-cover that eight women are supporting themselves by secular employment and doing as much of the above work as possible in the churches they serve. One clerks in a grocery; another is visiting lecturer in science at a university. Teaching, nursing, and social work are men-tioned. The majority of pastors, however, are giving full time to the Church. Protestant people prefer the ministry of a married man if they can support him, so most women minis-ters will be found in struggling churches or churches which find it hard to get married ministers for other reasons. One writes: "I believe that there is a place in Protestantism for a celibate ministry. There are parishes in which a single person can work where it would not be practical for a family to live. The parish I now sei've is one that has a very hard time keeping a minister; it is a depressed coal mining area where ministers' wives do not want to bring up their children, and I don't blame them--I would not bring up children here either; but since I am single I have been able to stay on a small salai'y and do a work that really needed to be done." In 1941, a Methodist bishop asked a young woman to go and see if she could revive a church which was dis-integrating. She found a building with every window broken and no heating plant. On the pulpit was a note: "There are no members and no money. Here's the key." A school official told her: "Go back where you came. Even by police statistics it is a frightful area." She called from door to door and faced an empty church for four Sundays. Then two women came, bringing their children, and she started a Sunday School. At the end of fourteen years she was able to give up secular employ, ment; the church could support her. Now, after 26 + 4. + Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1021 + + + Elsie Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1022 years, she serves the same church with a membership of 1,094. It has sent out one missionary, four ministers, has another graduating from seminary and still others looking toward full-time Christian work. Her r~sponse on the questionnaire as to why she entered the ministry was: "The Methodist Church needed me." Doubtless any bishop would endorse that statement. This woman may have unusual gifts of administration. --they have had an excellent building programmbut many from whom I heard seem able to manage the af-fairs of a parish well. A Michigan woman writes: "I have to date served three parishes and we have built a new church building in each place. I would have been happy to have let the men do that, though." Others felt they were not equipped to handle such projects and pre-ferred to work on a multiple staff where they would not have administrative duties. When women are assistant pastors they usually carry heavy responsibility in Christian education, pastoral calling, or both. Twenty-five years ago, schools or de-partments of religious education were separate from the theological, divisions of seminaries though on the same campuses. The education courses were taken mainly by women. They demanded extensive study of educa-tional theory and practice as well as field work but a minimum of theology. The theological sections, in which nearly all the students were men, did little or nothing in the way of training for educational work. Tension resulted between the male minister and the female director of education, the pastor thinking the woman did not know what she was trying to impart and the director of education feeling that the pastor was a dismal failure when it came to imparting anything ex-cept to adults. Since the woman had had fewer years of graduate study and was in a subordinate position on the staff, as well as from the cultural angle, she felt frus-trated. This picture is changing. A widow who serves as a director of Christian educa-tion has expressed the matter clearly: "I was ordained because at the time I was in seminary it seemed to me that there was quite a gulf between people working in the Christian education field, which I had prepared to do, and the ministry of the church. In other words, all too often the clergy did not interest themselves in edu-cation, because they felt that it was the 'field of the edu-cator, and in fact, they did not bother to find out too much about it. The person in Christian education went about his duties and the minister about his and they were each in his separate world. This led to misunder-standing and at times situations where there was rivalry and outright antagonism. By completing the full three- year course for the B.D. degree and by being ordained, I wished to show my belief that ihe work of the church is one; that whatever I did I wanted to do with the wel-fare of the total church in mind; that I was prepared to understand the work of the ministry in its widest scope and to see my task in the broadest terms." Another woman explains her desire in seeking ordination: "Be-cause it is my conviction that one who works profes-sionally in the educational ministry of the church should have the same training and status as those who are min-isters of Word and Sacrament. The ministry is one; the preaching and teaching ministry cannot be separated." Women with this full preparation frequently become associate pastors rather than assistants and their views are treated with appreciation and respect in the area of their special competence. The church school is under their direction, also adult education projects and leader-ship training of various kinds. They-may have respon-sibility for morning wors.hip when children or youth are involved. The ministers of the church work as a team, associates having been interviewed by the senior pastor so that he carl determine whether additional staff have points of view which will make it possible for all to serve together happily. The women from whom I heard in such situations were glad to participate in a team minis-try. Others who share responsibility, particularly in pas-toral calling and counseling, felt a multiple staff should always include a woman. A number in such positions said there were problems a woman would not discuss with a male minister, and vice versa, so that the pres-ence of a woman on the staff gave members of the congregation a choice. One respondent mentioned that a minister of another denomination had sent a dis-turbed woman to her for counseling even though he "did not believe in women ministers." Several who have had experience in chaplaincy work feel that it is a mis-take for men to counsel emotionally disturbed women and girls and vice versa. Older women often find satisfaction in a special min-istry to senior citizens, shut-ins, those in nursing homes and hospitals. This frees the senior pastor from all ex-cepf. the most urgent calls. The woman assistant or as-sociate takes Holy Communion to the sick and others who cannot come to the church. She conducts worship in nursing homes and often preaches in the absence of the senior minister. Thirty-four ministers' wives responded to the ques-tionnaire; thirty-two respondents are married to men who have other vocations. Unless economic circum-stances demand it, they do not leave the home when 4. 4- + Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1023 ÷ ÷ ÷ E|sle Gibson REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1024 their children are below school age; but this does not mean they have "left the ministry." A mother of four children whose husband is in business says that she con-tinued her work until their fourth child came: "I have found that a full-time parish is too much for me to manage while the children are young. I have every in-tention of returning to the parish ministry as soon as the children are all in school, and able to be a little less de-pendent on me." In the meantime she is able to supply pulpits and conduct Christian education workshops. Another minister's wife who is serving a church part time says: "I am devot.ing all the time I feel I can to my parish duties because my family takes precedence . Fortunately, the church I currently serve does not ask for more. But in any case, until the youngest child is in school, I could not do more. If I fail my children, I fail--period. However, with these limitations I am giv-ing supportive help to a small congregation of aging persons (mostly single .women) and there doesn't seem to be anyone else around who could bother with them at the moment." Other wives, while accepting interim and supply work, do not serve as pastors and do not expect to do so. They are absorbed.in the work their husbands are do-ing, giving him assistance in tasks for which they have special gifts. The parish he serves is actually receiving the service of two ministers "for the price of one." Such churches make no de,rnands upon a woman's time but gratefully receive whatever assistance she can give. This will vary with the age and number of her children. She may give practically full time as they grow older. Protestant churches are often unaware of the work done by ministers' wives above the local level and es-pecially in ecumenical circles. I recall a large board meeting where the que.stion was suddenly asked: "How many here are ministers' x4ives?" Nearly all the women were, and it was laughingly decided that some-thing must be done abont such a situation for "what if all our husbands were to move at once?" One min-ister's wife writes: "Our little boy is just a year old so I will not be working professionally for a while. However, I am very much involved in our Church Women United gronp, and feel that the witness i am making now is perhaps greater than the witness I was able to make as a professional Christian education person." In various ways a number observed that a Christian home at the heart of the parish is in itself a form of witness. A young minister's wife states: "I've found thai often women will talk their family and marital problems over with me first. Often they want to talk to both of us. When a woman needs to break down and have a good cry, she'll often come and cry with me." Another expresses an idea which I have pondered myself: Are women led into specialized ministries? Certainly many of us who are mar-ried are so engaged. We are doing work that in many in-stances requires ordination but that others have neither the time nor the financial support to do. A young woman, ordained and having to decide whether her ministry will be given as a single or married person, writes: "I think that women were made to stand along-side men in the family, church and society." She rejects stereotypes of women as do most of those responding to my questionnaire. It seems to me that the role of woman in the Church is an nnsolved problem. Their gifts and abilities are numerous, and they cannot be forced into one of half a dozen molds predetermined by society. T.hey must have sufficient freedom to become what God intended them to be. They need the help of the men of the Church, but not their domination, to find where they belong. One woman cannot generalize for another what the ideal wife and mother must be and do. There is as much variety within this "order" as within any other. I think that perhaps the greatest need of the Church in our generation is a deep interior listening to what the Holy Spirit seems to be saying, not only to our-selves but through others. The natural human tend-ency is to try to shape others either to our own vocation or to our mental image of the calling he thinks he has. There is a bewildering multiplication of vocations to-day when almost everyone is some kind of specialist. But we are reachiug out toward mt~tual understanding. Years ago, the founder o1~ the American Association of Women Ministers chided me for my interest in the Roman Catholic Church. She could not fathom it. Aged and infirm now, unable to fill out the questionnaire, she rose from bed and scribbled a brief note which in-cluded the words: "I have found very real fellowship with Catholic Sisters both here and once when I was ill and they took me in almost as one of them. 'Just like us' I overheard one of them say to another of me." Our feelings may be ambivalent at times as we consider the radical differences in our separate states; but faith in Christ leads us to affirm that we will yet be one Body---even in the eyes of the world. + 4. + Protestant Women in Religion VOLUME 26, 1967 1025 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Directives on the ¯Postulancy, Noviceship, and Temporary Profession ÷ + ÷ Joseph F. Gal-len, s.J., writes from St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19106. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1026 In an address to the International Union of Supe-rioresses General, given in Rome on March 7, 1967, Archbishop Philippe, Secretary of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious, communicated the following new ori-entations or directives of the Sacred Congregation of Re-ligious on the postulancy, noviceship, and temporary profession in apostolic congregations of religious women. These directives had been p.reviously approved by the Prefect of the Sacred Congregation, Cardinal~ Antoniutti. The directives should obviously be studied by all institutes, also of men. These new orientations are di-rectives, suggestions, the thinking, the mind of the Sa-cred Congregation. They Were not imposed as obliga-tory. The norms of the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae (nn. 6-8) remain in full force. The general chapter therefore has the authority to change the constitutions experimentally provided the changes are not contrary to canon law and the purpose, nature, and character of the institute are preserved. Prudent experiments con-trary to canon law, if judged profitable, will be freely i~er-mitted by the Holy See, but canonical changes are effec-tive only if and when they are permitted by the Holy See. The general council has the same power of experimenta-tion in the periods between chapters according to condi-tions to be determined by the chapters. See Rv.wEw for RELXGmUS, 25 (1966), 957--65; 26 (1967), 5--18. The new orientations of the Sacred Congregation are listed below as directives. The remarks are my explanatory comments on the directives. DIRECTIVE I. PRE-POSTULANCY NOT RECOMMENDED. A pre-postulancy would be a period before the postulancy spent in one of the houses of full external activity, in which therefore the aspirant would be in contact with the actual life of the institute, would know the life she is to live when her formation is completed, and a more realistic judgment of her vocation could be made. The thinking of the Sacred Congregation of Religious is that this purpose should be included in the postulancy and not that there should be an added and special pre-postu- .lancy for all. Remarks. The directive of the Sacred Congregation stated above would not preclude the imposing or recom-mending of such a pre-postulancy to a particular aspi-rant or aspirants before admission. Some institutes of sis-ters are now demanding or tending to demand a year of work after high school, two years or the completion of college before entrance. All such requirements are based on what is stated to be the fact of experience, that is, that greater maturity than now had is at least advisable before entrance. Such experimental require-ments should be carefully thought out and, if put into effect, their results are to be accurately observed and studied. Maturity is an individual matter, and some high school graduates are sufficiently mature for entrance. A partial or complete college education is not a guaran-tee of maturity, Contact is to be maintained with the applicant during the period of any such delayed en-trance, e.g., by the vocation director. The psychological and personality testing of applicants should help the judgment on sufficient maturity. DIRECTIVE II. POSTULANCY. Necessity. In religious in-stitutes of women of.perpetual vows, there is to be a postulancy for all of at least six month~ but not longer than a year (c. 539, § 1). Prolongation. Whether the pre-scribed postulancy is six months or longer, as above, it may be prolonged but not more than six months (c. 539, § 2). Place. The postulancy may be made in the novitiate house or in another house of the institute where the discipline prescribed by the constitutions is faithfully observed (c. 540, § 1). Manner. The postulants are to make the postulancy as a distinct group under the spiritual guidance of a mistress (c. 540, § 1). Pur-pose. The postulancy is to remain, as now almost solely viewed, a period of spiritual and religious initiation for the noviceship, but it may also be considered and em-ployed as a time of probation and trial in the works of the institute. It may be made in one of the houses of full external activity. Consequently, the postulants would be in contact with the actual life of the institute, would know the life they are to live when their forma-tion is completed, and a more realistic judgment of their vocation could be made (c. 540, § 1). Authority ]or Directives VOLUME 26, 1967 1027 4" 4" 4" Joseph F. Gallen, .S.L REVIEW: FOR RELIGIOUS 1028 changes. The institutes themselves may make these changes because none of them is contrary to canon law and therefore does 'not demand the authorization of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. Remarhs. It is not a canon but the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions that has excluded a postulancy longer than a year. Canon law did not and does not forbid either study or occupation in the ex-ternal works of the institute during postulancy. Canor~ 540, § 1 permits that the postulancy be made in houses of full external activity "where the discipline prescribed by the constitutions is faithfully observed." DIRECTIVE III. CLOTHING OR RECEPTION OF THE HABIT (BEGINNING OF THE NOVlCESHIP). Type of ceremony. The mind of the Sacred Congregation of Religious is that the clothing or reception of the habit should be reduced to a purely community ceremony, held in the chapel of the novices or of the religious house, without the pres-ence of the families or ecclesiastical authorities, and especially without solemnity. Reason. The reason is to accord the due and superior importance to religious pro-fession, which in many institutes of religious women was given less solemnity and appeared to have less impor-tance than reception. The Commission for the Imple-mentation of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy is preparing to formulate a ceremonial for religious pro-fession. Remarks. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, n. 80, states: Moreover, a rite of religious profession aml renewal of vows shall be drawn up, in order to achieve greater unity, sobriety, and dignity. Apart from exceptions in particular law, this rite should be adopted by those who make their profession or

Transcript of an oral history interview with Joshua Fontanez, conducted by Sarah Yahm at Killeen, Texas, on 10 April 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Joshua Fontanez graduated from Norwich University in 2012; the bulk of his interview focuses on his experiences as a gay student at Norwich University, especially regarding the formation of the university's Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, and Allies Club. His later work for OutServe-SLDN is also discussed. ; 1 Joshua Fontanez, NU 2012, Oral History Interview January 14, 2015 2015 Kingwood Dr. Killeen, TX 76544 Interviewed by Sarah Yahm SARAH YAHM: Can you tell me where you were born? Where are you from? JOSH FONTANEZ: I was born in Willingboro, New Jersey. I grew up – was raised my entire life in New Jersey. I lived in a small town called Browns Mill, New Jersey in the pine lands, cranberry bogs and blueberry bushes and right outside a huge military base, Fort Dix-McGuire in Lakehurst. SY: Sorry, I need to have you say your full name. If you will, just say who you are. JF: Yes, Joshua Aaron Fontanez. SY: Excellent. So you grew up next to a big military base, so when did you start being interested in the military? JF: Oh, I always wanted to be in the military. I can remember first grade my first grade teacher used to – her husband was in the military, and he used to come in and he'd talk all the time, so I always had that desire to be in the military. What rank or what job I wanted changed but I always had that passion that calling to be in the military in some form or fashion. SY: And you didn't come from a military family? JF: Neither of my parents were in the military. A lot of my aunts and uncles, my grandparents were all in the military. SY: Interesting. I've been asking everybody this question: did you play games as a kid? Did you play imaginary games where you were in the military? JF: We played like soldier and stuff like that. My dad still has pictures of me with tree branches running around outside, or you know not necessarily modern-day military but also like medieval times, sort of. My cousins and my sister and stuff like that or as I got older you got like little toy guns and stuff like that and we used to do war games inside the house clearing rooms and stuff like that, you know, hide and go seek with little toy guns and stuff like that. SY: Interesting. So you always kind of wanted to be in the military, when did you figure out that you were gay? 2 JF: So I look back in history and it's kind of like – Look, the signs were always there, when I look back, I think I first, I want to say, I first was kind of like okay I had a hint of it my freshman year of high school. That was when I started to actually, not just the emotional aspect but going into that part of my life becoming more sexually attracted to men and stuff like that. SY: And, how – were you freaked out about it? It's interesting because in all the interviews I've read with you and about you, you seem super confident, pretty angst free about being gay. So what that the case when you were fourteen? JF: It was not at all. It was even like the mentality – I look back and I want to give my fourteen year old self a big hug, and just tell him that it's going to be okay. It's going to be better. There was a lot of nervousness and even though like my parents are completely supportive of who I am and my lifestyle and stuff like that. I grew up in a Christian home – it did play a huge role in that. So I remember, I want to say it was like the first time I ever kissed a guy. I went outside to mow the lawn, and I was just praying that I would be healed and that I could be normal and stuff like that, almost to the point of tears. But, it was definitely a huge, huge struggle. A lot of loneliness, depression, not really understanding, a lot of denial at the same time, because you know even in high school you get the questions, Why don't you have a girlfriend? Why aren't you hitting on girls? You are going to this ball or this prom or this or that, why aren't you chasing after them or getting dates or anything like that? So— SY: Yeah, so did— were there adults or mentors who supported you? JF: I wasn't even out. I didn't come out until college, so no one really knew, like some people, like I talked to my sister now and she had like a hint later on in high school, but really no one really knew, just kind of like a couple of other gay people like I would meet knew, but usually they were all in the closet too. It was not something we were ever open about, and it was to a huge point in my life until I accepted who I was that the people who were even in high school who were out, both male and female— So you know, I was extremely mad at them and it was like the whole aspect of — I would make fun of them just as much as anyone else would and that's one of the things I look back, and I'm like "Wow, you were horribly wrong for doing that." It was part of my own insecurity of fear of if I can't be who I want to be they shouldn't be who they want to be either. SY: Were you is afraid that they would recognize something in you and out you in some way? JF: In some way, like, even when I talked to some of my friends a lot of them were like, Yeah, we knew. It was very clear and then I would respond, If you knew why didn't you say something and support me tell me and come up and confront me? There was a huge aspect of would they, 3 and it was even a societal thing because even in high school I got involved in student government or JROTC or the different mentoring things they had in high school, I always thought, I can't be that leader and that role model and be gay at the same time. I remember when I came out to my best friend, I told him— I came out to him, I want to say right after I graduated high school so it might have been like our first break back from Norwich. I told him, listen, I don't have this pressure on me to be this role model anymore for the high school, for all these leadership positions, so I want to tell you that I'm gay, and the reason why I never told you is because I never thought I could. Like, I couldn't be gay and be a leader. I couldn't be gay and be a role model at the same time. SY: So most people don't describe going to a military academy as realizing that they can be gay and be a role model, but it seems like that's what happened to you. So, what happened at Norwich that enabled you to come out that first semester? JF: So coming out to my – I only came out to my friends back at home. I didn't even come out. It wasn't until my senior year that I came out to friends at Norwich and that was a whole different fear, that was a huge fear under Don't Ask, Don't Tell, but I started out to my friends back at home just simply because I needed – it got to the point where I needed to tell someone. The pressure was just overwhelming. The additional stress that comes with going to college, being away from family for the first time, financial independency, all the different clubs and activities I was involved in, and to throw into that, ok now your emotional life, and this part of my life I was still, there were still times when I was like, maybe I can convince myself to be straight. Maybe if I just try hard enough that I can just overcome this. It did for a long time, like even, I want to say up until my junior year of college, a lot of depression, mental stuff. You know, because on the weekends, because it was a dry campus — so if we left campus to go drinking and stuff like that, a lot of binge drinking, it was just emotionally destroy me and physically it had a huge aspect on me as well. SY: Were you accessing like the gay community in Vermont? Or were you just pretty closeted? JF: So a little bit, so there was – you have like the gay, for one any community, ironically, I always laugh because it was like you would think a state as liberal as Vermont there would be a huge gay community, and there's a pretty good one that I found out later on definitely as I started getting more active in activism but it's like then you have Northfield. So even like my freshmen year, I didn't have a car in college until the second half of my junior year. Even trying to reach things, you have to go to Burlington, Vermont. Even in Montpelier there is a very, very small, in my opinion, community where you constantly can meet. Then a big aspect of it which we try to put out there is that no one knew. Like no one knew that there was all these different communities out there and organizations you can go to and different activities and conferences. I spend hours and hours and hours researching and sending out hundreds of emails to different 4 colleges and professors up and down the east coast trying to find out information, tons to people in the different colleges in Burlington, trying to get help from them, whether it was UVM or any of those different colleges. It was definitely difficult in that aspect. SY: I wonder if there was a point in your time at Norwich before you came out especially under Don't Ask, Don't Tell when you were like, Hey these two parts of myself are incompatible. Did you doubt being in the military? JF: I never doubted being in the military because like I said, my mentality was always this that I loved the military so much and I love— I'm such a patriot that is how I used to view it and I was so dedicated to serve my country and defend the Constitution and our way of life and I knew that I was willing to be trained and do things that my family couldn't do. I knew they couldn't defend themselves, and I was will to, so if sacrificing my happiness and sacrificing who I was as a person was something that I needed to do to accomplish those goals that was something that I was completely willing to do. To being able to complete my military service, to complete that obligation I feel I had to for my country, my values, my beliefs, I was willing to stay in the closet as long as I needed to be able to accomplish that mission. SY: So when did you decide to come out at Norwich? JF: We actually— I'm trying to remember when I first came out – see the first person I came out to, the very first person I came out to at Norwich was – okay when I say come out, there were a couple of cadets – when you found out who the gay cadets were, you talked or you know gay civilians, but actually openly came out to was, I want to say, was Dr. Newton, and it was, I want to say when it was, it was right after Junior Ring Ceremony of my junior year. In tradition of Junior Ring Ceremony, big party, big condo events, and stuff like that, and so everyone was drinking and at the party I kissed a guy. Just like the rumor mill spills, before I could get to campus the next day, everyone knew. I remember going to the office the following Monday, sitting down with Professor Newton and she saying like, You know Josh a couple of the cadets were talking and a couple of my students were talking and they said that you kissed a guy this weekend. And I was like, You know to be completely honest, Dr. Newton, I think I feel you already know but I do identify myself as a gay man. She said, "I know. I've known for a while." And at this time the repeal, Congress had officially passed it, but it didn't come into effect until the following, the upcoming fall. She said, just be careful there are some – at this time, I was still a very controversial leader on campus, even at this time. SY: Why were you a controversial figure on campus? JF: My junior year I was elected the student government president, and by this time I have accepted that I was gay. I knew I was gay, and I knew I wanted to start a club on campus. By 5 this time, we knew we had to wait. Everyone saw the writing on the wall. Sitting in ROTC classes, the instructors would talk about the repeal and the possibility of repeal and what we thought about it. SY: How would they talk about it? Would they talk about it in positive terms or negative terms? JF: They would pretty much just ask – They would just use the Socratic Method. They would just come in and be like, Hey, Congress is talking about repealing Don't Ask, Don't Tell. SY: And what would your classmates or rookmates— what type of things would they say and did that have you frightened? JF: Most of them would say, I really don't care, that's what would shock me the most. A lot of them say, Hey, I really don't care as long as they do their job. But, they would then go and make jokes, gay jokes, and they would still put down people if they thought they were gay and it was still viewed as a negative thing. SY: How much were slurs like faggot thrown around? How much were there gay jokes? Was the culture hostile in that way? JF: It was. Even to the point of my senior year, it was still a societal thing and in a lot of aspects it still is. Perfect example, my second semester, I got moved into a new room my freshmen year and Cadet [Ringcone? 0:18:28], now Lieutenant [Ringcone? 0:18:29] in the Army, he's an Apache pilot, probably my best friend. I was the best man at his wedding. But, his freshman year we got into a big discussion, and he swore that being gay was a psychological disorder and it could be fixed. And, he is now probably one of my biggest supporters after I came out. Even when the club came up, he was at every meeting, when we did Pride Week he was there cooking. When I got threats and different letters slid under my door and stuff like that, he would chase people down the alleyway trying to catch them after they did it, or he would walk with me around campus because certain staff members were afraid I would get jumped and stuff like that. One of my greatest supporters and still one of my closest friends, just seeing that change – Some of my other close friends, they would see how using words like "That's so gay" even something that is so easy and is used by society so much they would catch themselves and look at me and say, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." Or they would stop people and correct them, like an underclassman would come around and be like, Hey, stop being so gay, or they would use different slur words and they would stop them and be like, Are you serious? Well, what wrong with being gay? You'd see how much someone's attitude would completely change when they actually get confronted by someone. They did that. 6 SY: Just wondering, it sounds like when you were around people corrected their language and stuff, but I wonder how much it was a real part of them. What do you think? JF: I would say, if I was a betting man, I would say it probably it would still be a big part of the culture, because it takes someone who is consciously there holding people to standards. One of our biggest examples when we would have discussions, you wouldn't do it with race or with gender, but at the same time, someone can't hide their gender and they can't hide their race but if you make fun of someone so much and make the environment hostile enough you can force someone not to admit that they were gay. That was a big thing, even with the repeal people would be like, I have no problem with you being gay and being in the military, but just don't be gay around me. And we had this one student, he – long, long post – Pride Week was very controversial, and this guy who was a very popular guy in the Corps of Cadets came out as being gay, and put on Facebook that he didn't need a Pride Week to come out, and he pretty much said that, Me being gay makes my friends extremely uncomfortable and because it makes them uncomfortable that I have enough respect for them not to be gay around them. So pretty much it was the mentality – in my opinion it was like good that you came out but at the same time look at what you just openly admitted is. Who you are, who you can't change, the people you love, you're not even willing to show that emotion around people who claim to be your best friends because it makes them feel uncomfortable. That's what a lot of people would do, they would be – the aspect because all the conversations I used to have with newspapers and stuff like that, the university would make it very clear that they've never had a policy that would restrict students from being gay. They would never kick them out for being gay, but you look at our civilian population who is never restricted by Don't Ask, Don't Tell like our Corps of Cadet students were through their ROTC scholarships and stuff like that, but they still fully admitted, I'm scared to walk around campus holding my boyfriend or my girlfriend's hand. I'm afraid to bring them to the Junior Ring Ball. I'm afraid to show them affection and caring in an open environment because I don't know how people would react. I don't know how that would – so, in that aspect its different than being able to – you're never able to – used to say the term is, you know, you can serve freely not get kicked out but you can't serve openly. You can't be who you are. You couldn't, you know, because a lot of people would get a lot of looks or sayings and I mean, they were, they were pushed back into the, not into the closet, but people would know they were gay but they wouldn't ever bring their significant other around. We had our senior year, our regimental XO came out as being gay, and I knew he was gay since my freshman year. When he finally got the courage to come out, he came out in more anger because he didn't think— he though a lot of the attention on the gay community put a spotlight on it but even after he came out as gay, he was still afraid to bring the guy that he was dating to the Junior Ring Ball. So he didn't even show up to the event. It was that aspect of, Yeah, like okay, we know you are gay, the [real? 0:12:42] is done, but you just can't be gay around me. 7 SY: How did you know he was gay? Did he come out to you? Or was it a sort of sub-culture where people who were closeted on campus but out to each other? JF: Yes, so there were, so it was always that difficult thing, mentality of how to find out who was gay. You had a lot of different avenues. Clearly, we didn't have meetings or anything like that like we did when we had the club, but usually there were two different ways. There was an online dating site. You would go on there and you would see different people. SY: Online dating like Grindr or something and Norwich? JF: No, no, no, it was called, what was the name of it, this was old school, Manhunt. SY: Oh, Manhunt. JF: Yep, and I remember – I know what Grindr is, I didn't hear about Grindr, ironically it was my straight friend who told me about Grindr, but not until my senior year. Manhunt was like the big, back then, the big dating site. I remember being on one night, and I saw him on there, and we talked and stuff like that. Ironically, he lived three doors down from me. We lived on the same floor. So we would talk and stuff like that. So that was one way, but that wasn't a huge way, because unless you knew about the website, no one would go on it. The other event was, and yet again, unless you knew about it, you didn't go either, but it was – So Vermont doesn't have a gay club. Vermont has a gay night. So in Burlington, the club Higher Ground has what's called First Friday. So the first Friday of the month, the club is a gay club. People travel hours from all over Vermont to come there because it's really the only outlet, that one day a month. So you would go there and you would actually see different cadets there and stuff like that. SY: Can you talk about that a little more? Do you remember your first time going to Higher Ground, going to your first First Friday? How did you get there? Did you hitch a ride? Were you scared? JF: My very first time was— When was it? It wasn't until my junior year that I actually went to the club. I'd heard about it, but I really didn't know about it, and I went with a civilian who was – it was her and her girlfriend. I went as support. Because even all the equality stuff we did up to my junior year, I always did as an ally. No one else has the courage to stand up and do it that would be my line. So, I will be the one that takes the brunt force and stand up and help the people who have no voice. SY: Oh, I see, so when you were a controversial student council figure because you were doing equality work but you were doing it as a straight ally. 8 JF: Yeah, roger, one of the first things we passed, as student government president was, I passed an executive order that declared that the student government represented everyone equally and it was one of the first – My research, I hadn't been able to find any other documents, I mean, I'm sure there's a couple, but it listed based up on sexual orientation, gender identity, and of course it went through the standard stuff like, sex, age, student lifestyle whether they are civilian or Corps. We ended purposely with sexual orientation and gender identity, and that was like a huge thing. Strategically, we did that on purpose because we literally spent all of our junior year building up this controversy of having people start talking about it, breaking the ice, so that when we created the club, it wasn't such a – even though it was a huge shock, it wasn't as big of a shock. We went to Higher Ground, met a couple of cadets, saw a couple. It was really awkward because you walk in and you kind of like ignore each other. It's kind of like, Oh, I didn't just see this person here. We would do that, but we went a lot more often my senior year. We actually, as a club we would go up, and that would be like a club outing. We would also be networking because we would work a lot with the different universities would meet us up there and all the other kind of stuff. It was interesting, you'd find out, I actually met – so ironically, I know you mentioned how it worked with my military service. At the time, without mentioning names or rank, I remember being on Manhunt one night, and I saw an Army ROTC instructor on it, who was stationed at Norwich and worked there. It was kind of like the same thing. I didn't message him, he didn't message me. It was kind of just like, okay, log off real quick. I remember, at this time I was a work study at the Admissions Office. I used to work at the front desk as a, I want to say receptionist, but I guess, I don't know what the masculine term for that is, but I was there answering the phone and stuff and greeting people when they came in. He came in and he said, "Fontanez, can you help me carry some stuff back?" And, I was like, "No problem, sir," and I carried it back. He sat down and he asked me if I ever heard of this site Manhunt. By this time, I am terrified, my heart is beating, I'm thinking, I'm going to lose my scholarship, and I couldn't pay for Norwich without my Army scholarship. There was no way. And I was like, Sir, I don't think you can ask me that question, and I don't think I can answer that questions. Pretty much citing Don't Ask, Don't Tell, and he was like, Okay, that answers my question. He told me, "I just want to let you know that I saw you on the app and clearly I'm gay too." He was like, "Do you plan on having a family one day? Do you want to fall in love and stuff like that?" And I was like, Yeah, I do. He was like, "Okay, you need to not make the military your life then." He was like, because – In my mind when I look back, I think when he said that, he never envisioned the end of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, because he had served under it for so long, but he was actually getting out of the Army, so he could be with his significant other and moving away from Vermont. But that was his tip to me, Listen, if you actually want to be happy in life, you want to have a family, you want to have a significant other that you care about and can care about you and you can live your life openly, do your initial service and get out because you can't do it while you are in. 9 SY: How did you feel after that conversation? JF: I don't think what he told me really sunk in as much as I was scared out of my mind that he knew. Even going through my senior year, thinking about it, the mentality always shocked me how some people just can't envision it any better. Great guy, but he couldn't see it getting any better. He just saw the worst, and I see a bad situation I want to make it better, doesn't mean – I'm an extremely controversial person at nature. I have no problem, I don't care who you are or what your position is, if you are not doing something right or if I feel like I am being wronged then I'm going to say it. I will try to be political about it, I will be respectful but like, you can threaten me, you can do whatever, it really doesn't matter. I mean, I remember sitting in the office of the Commandant of Cadets and yelling at the top – We were pretty much yelling at each other and another commandant had to come in and pull him out, but I knew I was right and he knew I was right. He just wasn't willing to admit to me that he knew I was right. SY: What were you yelling about? JF: It was about Pride Week. He didn't agree that we should have a Pride Week. He didn't think that Don't Ask, Don't Tell was a big issue. He thought that everyone was fine with it, that society had changed. He quoted that he just got back from a deployment with the National Guard. He was like, We didn't have any issues with people who were gay on the deployment. We actually joked about them being gay and stuff like that. Did you just hear what you said? You just openly admitted that you were making fun of one of your soldiers on a deployment because of who they were. Just because you can joke with them, and maybe they laugh back with you, doesn't make it okay. We just got into the huge aspect of the culture of fear. I mean it was. The aspect of – It all came about because what we did to fund Pride Week we would go to each department, so we would go to Math and ask, Hey, can you sponsor an event? Like we had in seven days, we had over fourteen events. I want to say we had fifteen or sixteen events. Unprecedented. Some colleges like UVM and Saint Michael's and all the other colleges, they'd never even had anything like that before or to the level that we were having stuff. We had speakers coming in from all over the place, we had the Governor of Vermont come to an event. So we were just trying to get like, Hey, can you sponsor this event? We had a veteran who came in and he talked about how he was in the Navy under Don't Ask, Don't Tell, CID [criminal investigation division] would show up to the gay clubs and literally hunt them down, and he remembered like being in a club and someone coming in warning him and him having to run out the back door. So we got Veteran's Affairs to sponsor that event. We just had all these different things to sponsor, and we were trying to get the Corps of Cadets to sponsor an event. The commandant had a very religious and moral objection to it, not only the club but the lifestyle, so he wasn't willing to sponsor it. I said, "No problem, but at the beginning of every event, we are 10 going to list by name the organizations which support us, and it is going to be very evident that the Corps of Cadets did not. And, he was so upset about that. SY: He wanted it both ways, huh? JF: So he was like, You can't put us in the spotlight like that, and I was like, Listen, it's no problem, you can have your morals and beliefs but you need to be willing to publically stand by it. I was like, We will, yet again this is my real controversial part, I am going to put out a press release to everyone from CNN to NPR to – and I just listed all these different news agencies and they will know that you didn't stand with us. Then it escalated, because it was the mentality like, You are a child, we are the adults and you need to listen to us, and my aspect was like, I am a twenty-two, twenty-three year old tax paying citizen, don't call me a child. It would go on and on from there. SY: Let's step back for a second, and I wanted to ask you about the day you found out that Don't Ask, Don't Tell had been repealed, how you felt, and you had a meeting that day, didn't you? December 20th? JF: Yeah, so what we did was, well, so Congress passed it, as soon as Congress found out, they lost the majority in the House. They took a vote in December of 20 – so they took a vote on December, if I remember my history right, 2010, because they knew when January come around, they would lose the majority in the House. So this was literally the last time they could do it. So I remember, I remember joy, but at the same time, fear, because it was, like, now I have no excuse. Like, every excuse now has been removed from me actually being who I was. So at this point it came – like, the writing was on the wall. It was, like, listen, we have so much time to actually laying the foundation, if we want to get this club put out. And by this time we start networking, we start calling people. We actually started drafting executive orders to try to lay on the foundation, because, you know, the club just didn't pop up one day. It was pretty much two years in the working of just getting different clauses put into the student government bylaws, which would allow us to do stuff a year down the road that led to the club being successful and stuff like that. So after we knew the club was going to be founded, Don't Ask Don't Tell, the legislation passed 2010, they said they were going to give a year so the military knew how to respond to it. That spring of 2011, the – so this plays an important role, because I was going up for the regimental commander, I put my name in. And I was one of the top three who was almost going to be regimental commander. And I told myself if I got regimental commander, I could never focus on this fight. I couldn't do both at the same time. So after I wasn't chosen for regimental commander, I took that as a sign, like, listen, okay, this needs to be your role and your passion for the next year. So I remember sitting down that very 11 afternoon, because I was student government president with President Schneider, and I said, "Hey sir, I want you to know, I want to ask you, what is your – within six months the appeal's going to be up. What do we plan to do as a university?" And his answer to me was, "Well, we're going to wait to see what guidance the Department of Defense puts out." And I told him, "Sir, I think we're missing a huge opportunity. We've always been the first. We have ROTCs here, we don't have to wait for the Department of Defense." I was, like, "There are students here," you know, without coming out to him, I was, like, "You know, there are students here who are hurting. You know, they're suffering." And he said, "Okay." So then we went in the – we had the re-election for student government, and I didn't win, so at the inauguration of the incoming president, my last act as student government president was to pass an executive order which created the club. So the student bylaws for the student government allows a student government president to recognize a club up to 14 days; they have 14 days before the student body government, like, the Senate, had to pass that club. So there were only 10 days left in the school year. So we announced it that day so that the club would officially exist with full authority of the university throughout the entire summer, so we could strategically plan and set up. We had the full weight of going and saying we're a university club. So we announced it then, which of course you can imagine being shocked, like, sitting in – we used to do the inaugurations on the top floor of the Wise Campus Center, so everyone being, like, you know, holding their breath. But then we used the summer to start working with different news agencies and they did different articles about, you know, the first gay club at a military college. We used that time to do a lot of different strategical stuff when it came to planning conferences, and, you know, how are we going to do the club fair, and stuff like that? What type of videos are we going to do? And we came back, and by that time – we also used that time to, like, lobby our Senators, because, you know, by this time, though they weren't out, there were different elected officials in the student government who were gay, so we knew who they were. And you know, we went up to then, we're, like, listen, this is time for you to actually stand in defense of who you were. So we lobbied them and we utilized them to lobby their other friends. And by the time we came back, we had a unanimous vote, not one objection. And then like you said, we met on the same day the appeal ended, we met in the Kreitzberg Library. I was told Dean Mathis was really, really skeptical; she was more scared and more concerned for us than anything. She's, like, "Listen, Josh, if you can get five people there, it'll be a success." We had over 25 individuals there; top officials from the university, civilians, Corps of Cadets, straight, gay, bisexual. And it was just a good time. And people started talking; I mean, I remember one civilian stood up, and she's, like, "I've been at this university four years and I literally thought I was the only person here like me. To walk into this room and know that for four years, I actually wasn't alone; that I had people who were just like me. I had a family here." And she just broke down in tears. And 12 that meeting that day was probably one of the most memorable things in her life, you know? There was such a movement for her. And it just relieved so much weight off of her. And it was just a stepping stone. That meeting was really the stepping stone because we did it in a pu– and we did. We strategically chose the location. We wanted it to be in a library, you know, demonstrating knowledge. We made sure none of the blinds were closed. We wanted to make sure everyone knew what we were doing. We had a booth at the club fair, so everyone knew when the meeting was. Everyone was welcome. We had a newspaper reporter there, she did a news article on it. So yeah, I mean, it was definitely well thought-out, but it was just a starting point, because that was at the beginning of the year. And like I said, just that year went through the roof. So it was definitely a great starting point. SY: And yeah, I guess I want to talk about Pride Week, and I want to also talk about the response to – what was the response to that first meeting? JF: So the first meeting wasn't bad. It was kind of, like, real neutral. Because our aspect was, we initially started the club of – so a lot of people had different opinions. So a lot of people said, like, I want to be part of a club. But I'm not ready to be out. So they wanted the club to be held in, like, you know, a secret room where only you would be invited if your friend knew you were gay, or something like that. SY: Okay, great. JF: So no one would know. And then we had the aspect which I sided with, which we just asked if we struggled a lot with was, hey, this is our first year of the club, it's very controversial, we have to be public. SY: Right. JF: So it was, like, the aspect of, we still made sure we took precautions to make sure people who weren't out still had an avenue to come and talk with us. You know, we did some things behind the scene. But we moved our club meetings to the Wise Campus Center, that open – it was literally a full wall of glass. And we did it purposely during chow hour. So everyone had to walk by and had to see the club happening. You had to see people getting education on – you know, anti-bullying, anti-harassment, safe sex, the different political movements. How to get involved. You know, we had speakers from different places come in and talk to us and stuff like that. But no one could deny it; no one could say, "I didn't know." No one could say, "Why didn't you tell me?" Or, you know, "If I just knew." SY: Right. 13 JF: So the responses were mixed, because some people were, like, "Well, you're throwing it in my face." You know, I remember we had a staff sergeant in the Marine Corps who was a student there, he was a MECEP [Marine Corps Enlisted Commissioning Education Program]. And he said at a meeting once, he said, you know, "I have no problem that you're gay. You just need – the fact that pretty much that I have to see that you're gay, that you throw it in my face, that you make it public." SY: (inaudible) [00:09:08]. Because it seems like there are a lot of people who said that about Pride Week. They were, like, "Well, there's nothing wrong with being gay, but why do they have – why does it have to be a whole week? Why do they throw it in my face?" So what's your response to that statement? JF: I guess the best statement is, so we had a Pride Week, so that's one week out of the year. But we look at all these other weeks that are based around the heterosexual culture. We have Junior Ring Ceremony where you and your date walk under the sword arc, or you have Regimental Ball where you do pretty much the same thing. You dance, and you do this. We have the Winter Carnival, and all these different Valentine's Day, and just event after event after event. And Pride Week wasn't – the majority of Pride Week wasn't even about just for individuals who identified themselves as being homosexual. A lot of the knowledge behind it was, they were extremely controversial topics no one wanted to talk about. So we have this university full of 18-year-olds, depending on how long you're taking to graduate, 26, 27-year-olds, but who are extremely uncomfortable to talk about safe sex. So we had multiple seminars about safe sex, you know? What it means to actually be responsible and use a condom, and the different apparatuses out there for safe sex, including abstinency, so abstinence. So we covered every base. We had classes out there about bullying, which is not just an issue that happens – it wasn't even focused on a heterosexual versus homosexual kind of thing. It was just bullying in general. One of the events was an arts and craft event, which, ironically, was the most attended event. Because oh, I can get free stuff? I can get free food? OK, I'm going to show up. We had a movie about religion accepting all cultures, not just homosexuality, but different religions and different walks of life in a wide spectrum. We had the prom. We had a dance. So, I mean, it was just a wide, wide spectrum of events. Now, we purposely did say it was going to be a Pride – because there were, on the other end of that spectrum, there were different things that dealt directly with the homosexual community. I mean, we definitely were depending on some of the speakers we brought in, such as our veteran speaker, when he spoke about his fear living under Don't Ask, Don't Tell, and how his life had changed and stuff like that. But it was that aspect of, one, no one had to attend any of the events. 14 None of these events were mandatory at all. It wasn't any Corps of Cadets, you know, we have to do an afternoon training event where we march the entire Corps of Cadets down and they have to sit down and they have to listen about how difficult their life is going to be now that they have to treat everyone equally and with some dignity, no matter who they love. You know, they weren't giving up their Saturday afternoon to march down to the football field to sit and watch a drag show, or something like that. There were options. And I think more importantly, at least to me that spoke was, you know, the university – and I'm sure it will always maintain this line – that it never did anything to prevent an individual from being gay, but they never took steps and they never gave options for individuals who were gay. There were no options. And that's what we gave during Pride Week, was a unified effort to show that there were so many options. But at the same time, no matter if you were gay or straight, there are a lot of things that affect us all, like, bullying, alcoholism, depression, safe sex. Those go across it. So a lot of individuals just took it back and were like, OK, I don't need to go to these events, because I'm not gay. And some people didn't even show up who wanted to show up because they were so afraid. You know, the university had meetings after meetings about what happens if protestors show up? What happens if there's violence? What happens if someone gets jumped? You know, anything like this. But – SY: Did the university make any effort to keep people safe who were coming out? JF: I mean, they did. I got a lot of threats. Both my junior and senior year, I had a camera outside my door, my dorm room door, because I'd get threats. People would slide letters under my door or send me emails or Facebook messages, or cut things, you know, because we used to have our schedules, our door cards, and they'd cut it up, or they would throw trash at my door and stuff like that. Or, like, throw the entire – SY: How did you make sense of that, and how did that make you feel about Norwich? JF: It made me feel like I was doing something right. I mean, if people don't act out – I mean, there's always resistance. You look throughout history, I mean, there's always going to be resistance to change, right? If I was doing something right – if I wasn't doing something right, I'd probably be the most popular kid on campus. If I just went with the flow, you know, I disputed the lines of traditions, and this is how the old Corps was, and this and that, I'd probably be the most popular person in the world. Anytime anyone ever did something like that, it just motivated me. I knew I was doing something right. SY: And how did you feel, you know, how this fit into the idea of the citizen soldier? How did you feel like you fit into their idea? 15 JF: I mean, it's the aspect of, you know, what is citizenship? Unfortunately, I think a lot of the Corps of Cadets focus on the soldier aspect more than they focus on the citizenship aspect. And it makes me funny, because it's, like, okay, yeah, we're soldiers. But then sometimes it's like we're soldiers until it comes to discipline and, say, physical fitness. Because, like, you know, people talk about, like, you know, there's the alcohol policy on campus. So yeah, I'm a soldier, but then when it comes to following the rules, it's, like, well, I'm a college student, you know, don't get too crazy with that soldier stuff. And then it's, like, you know, well, physical fitness, which is one of the pillars for the university. And it's, like, well, at the same time, I'm a college student. Like, this is the time I'm supposed to live and stuff like that. Well, to be a soldier, you need to be physically fit. So we focused a lot on the soldier part, like, wearing the uniform, training the freshmen, you know, the rank structure, the saluting and whatnot, which are great; great disciplines, great lessons for life, no matter if you go military or civilian, it's a great foundation. And a lot of aspects, we do forget about the citizenship aspect, in my opinion, and we don't focus on it a lot. And I think that is the constant struggle between the academic professionals at the college and the Corps of Cadets in the Commandant's office at the university. Because I think one of the things that really made me the person I am is my education, is having professors, like Professor Miana and Professor, you know, Dr. Newton, who taught me so much in life. And definitely Dr. Newton, when it came to just politics in general, and being who you are, and the ability to articulate what you mean in an effective way, but at the same time being strategic. And there's always butting the heads, and I think they really do butt heads a lot, because you have, you know, well, what's more important? Sergeant's time training or actually doing your academic work? What's more important? You know, that parade we do on Friday, or making sure that our students go to an extra study hall session? And there's that constant thing. But at the same time, I mean, even citizenship on the aspect of – you know, I used to tell when I was battalion sergeant major, I used to tell my NCOs, I would, like, listen, got it. You have sergeant's time training. Now, what's going to do your cadet more – prepare them better for life? Are you going to sit there and have them remember all these dates in the Rook Book and in two years, they're not going to remember a single thing, because upper classmen aren't required to remember that? Or is it more important to understand, like, you know, at least 30 of your cadets are going to raise their hand and promise to uphold and protect the Constitution of the United States. Have they ever even read the Constitution? Other than the first amendments in our Bill of Rights, and most of them probably couldn't even tell you all of them, you know, could they even tell me what the Constitution had in it? What does Article 1 cover? What does Article 2 cover? You know, which one's more important? There was always the mentality, well, this is 16 how we did it when I was a freshman. This is how my father used to do it when he was here as a cadet. And we really do, we do miss the citizenship – and through that whole struggle of founding the club and Pride Week, and all the fallout and stuff like that, and the strategic planning over years, you know, I used to sit down with Dean Mathis, and I would sit down with her at least three to four times a week, if not daily, depending on the week. And I used to sit down with her, and my line to her would be, it's, like, "Dean," you know, "I sit back and I really do wonder, you know, if Captain Alden Partridge was here today, would he be proud of what he saw?" SY: What do you think he would say? And what do you think he would be and what do you think he wouldn't? JF: I think on the aspects of us as a university, I think we have some great values. I think we have some great foundations. I think we've put out some great leaders. I think that's what he would be proud of. I think he would be proud of the tradition, and the university still being there. You know, the university does have a very high academic standard, and it does. Every time Dr. Kelly would sit down with us and he said, there's no reason why our retention rate, academically, shouldn't be higher, and that's what we need to strive for. And the Corps of Cadets, even from my freshman year to my senior year, the focus on academics was improved greatly. And they do, they put out some great, great leaders throughout the world. But I think it would be – he would be ashamed on – for an individual who fought so hard to have women go to college, you know, you look at the archives, or you hear President Schneider talk about the archives, and how hard he tried to get women to come to college, to see professionals in that college discriminate against individuals for whatever reason. Or for the mentality of – you know, our college was founded on the mentality that he left West Point because he didn't like that, the mentality, the leaders could only come from that one avenue, that we weren't putting out civilian leaders simultaneously. To see such closed-mindedness. And that's what I used to tell them. I'm, like, listen, our college is great, because we are the first. The first Corps of Cadets to have women, the first Corps of Cadets to allow African American. These were extremely controversial things in the time. So why wouldn't' we want to be the first to have an open LGBT organization on college? You know, that is where I feel he would kind of shake his head, and say hey, what's happened? You know? And trying not to get so political, but a huge feedback we got was, do all the AARs [after action reports], because you can imagine Pride Week went up to the board of directors and back down, everyone did an AAR. And a lot of it had to do about the alumni and the funding, and the threats that came from funding from alumni. 17 SY: I'm glad you said that because it looks like nationally, Norwich's Pride Week got a ton of incredibly positive attention in the press. JF: Yes. SY: And within Norwich and some of the alumni it was, pardon my language, a shit storm. So what happened after the club fallout? JF: Well, here's what – I mean, simultaneously, like, even when Pride Week was happening, I used to get Facebook messages from alumni all the time. And they'd be, like, "Hey, you're destroying the university," you know, "You need to put a stop to this right now," and all this other kind of stuff. But the ball was rolling. So Pride Week wasn't just like a random event, right? We didn't just randomly say, OK, this week we're doing it. Like, over in January, we got approval from President Schneider to hold the event, like we had a full outline, we went to General Kelly, we went to President Schneider, we had a full event. They approved it all. Got funding. Now, our shield, on the strategic aspect was, we got two sitting Congressman, a sitting Senator and the Governor of the State to all support us. So President Schneider couldn't back out of it by this time. And then we got CNN, MSNBC, NPR and stuff like that to also do articles on it. So it was happening. And we purposely did it that way, and strategically did it that way, that no matter what type of pressure we got, it was going to happen. But they didn't tell the alumni. And that's something they personally take blame for; we didn't tell the alumni. But I remember sitting down – I'm trying to remember his name, unless it's Dave Whaley? Dave – no. I'm trying to remember who's the Head of Alumni Relations. But I remember – I can't remember his name now. But I remember him saying – I want to say this was right at the end of Pride Week when we were doing all the AARs, and then we knew it was just – I mean, the president had to go and put out a video because people were threatening not to come to Alumni Weekend; people were threatening not to donate, and it was crazy. But he – I remember the Head of the Alumni Relations said, "It's not the fact that you had the event, or that it was a gay event. It's the fact that you did it too soon." And pretty much what he was telling us was, "We're not telling you not to be gay. But the alumni aren't ready for you to be gay and the alumni aren't ready for a club like this. And because the alumni aren't ready, you shouldn't do this event." And he gave me a metaphor about a highway, like yeah, "We all have to travel on the same highway, and you guys just came out of the exit without thinking about the consequences, so quickly. And you cut off the vehicle in front of you and it caused this huge wreck." And my response to him was, "Well, sir, I remember a couple of years ago we had the second in the hundred-something year our university has existed, second female cadet Colonel. And that individual got a lot of hassle as well." And I 18 was like, "The alumni were not ready for that." I was like, "The alumni – she got so much harassment, I remember her very first meeting as a cadet Colonel, she said, 'I only think I got this position because I am a woman.' And the room went quiet. And I stood there in shock, I don't believe she just said this." So I told him, I was like, "I will not allow you sit here and put these people back in the closet because the alumni aren't ready for them. This is their life." Yet again, this is on the top floor, right outside the president's office, top floor, and I said, "I will not allow you to do that. They have their lives." I was like, "You cannot tell a 19-year-old to go back in because someone he's never met before isn't comfortable that he's gay at a university they attended 20, 30 years ago." I was like, "That is completely inappropriate." And yet again, I was like, "We are not living up to our values." You know, and we used to sit there when we did events and stuff like that, we'd list the different values of the university. We'd list down, this event is covering this value, you know? To not just act, but also to think, and things like that. But yeah, I mean it was – SY: It was really pretty brilliant. JF: So yeah, I mean, it took a while. I mean, I always used to tell Dean Mathis I find it funny that Norwich gave me the education to eventually cause them all this problem, all these problems. SY: Yes, that's right. JF: Because a lot of it did come from the academics that I learned from Norwich. I mean, at the least, they can at least know they were very successful in educating their student body. And knowledge is power, which yet again, they should be very proud of. But yeah, but I mean, so another result of it was, yet again, they waited until I graduated, because they knew if I was still there it wouldn't happen. But they literally waited until after I graduated, and President Schneider announced that the following year they wouldn't be holding a Pride event, that he felt – pretty much he said it caused too much hassle, like no club should have so much attention on them because it's not fair to the other clubs. Though, you know, yet again if I was still at the university, it would have been – I gave the students who were still there some tips and came back for Alumni Weekend and had some very nice conversations. But they waited until I was out the door to make that announcement, and they did that purposely. SY: And there hasn't been a Pride Week since? JF: There hasn't, no. The club still meets, they'll actually be meeting today – today's Thurs– no. No, they actually do have a – I'm trying to remember if I just saw the Facebook – they're meeting Thursday. So they still meet on Thursday. 19 SY: I'm going to interview Meche when we actually can line up our schedules. But he told me it seems like there's – he's really upset that the club's losing momentum. JF: Yeah, it is. I mean, so for a club like this, it takes a really, really, really strong – it takes a strong leader, because you have to be willing to be controv– as much as I hate to say it, you have to be willing to be controversial. You have to be willing to stretch the limits. You have to be willing to say, hey, this isn't right. And yet again, some people, they really do get tied up on rank, right? Like, okay, the cadet – the Commandant is a Colonel in the Vermont State Militia, I can never question that authority. I respect the authority, I'm not going to be disrespectful. But at a certain point, there's a lot of different avenues where I can question it if it's not being conducive to my life or to my education. SY: That's where I think the whole civilian soldier thing is interesting, because it seems like one side of Norwich teaches you to follow orders. And another side of Norwich teaches you critical thinking. And those two sometimes collide, right? JF: Oh, they do, yes. Very much so. SY: Yes. And so I guess in your time since Norwich, how do you think this, what you learned in Norwich, which, in some ways, is how to push to sort of improve and change a military system? How has it served you since you've left? JF: It served me pretty well, I mean, as soon as I graduated, I got some good news. We got invited to the White House. So we were able to go to the White House for a social there. I mean, it was – I thought it was kind of, like, I was like, I thought it was kind of a hoax, because I started getting some hate mail sent to my home address and then I got a letter, big card stock, saying, you know, from the White House. I'm like okay, this is kind of random. And yeah, it was an invite, like you know, we're having the first national LGBT Social at the White House, we would like you and a guest to attend. I'm like, no! And then I got an email, you know, from the head, like yeah, we need all this information because Secret Service has to do a background check on you. And I was like, okay, I was like, great! I was like – so I contacted a really good friend of mine, Sue [Follen?], she's a former Captain, she's a West Point grad, she's really involved at West Point. I was like, "Hey Sue, I'm going to the White House. Can I wear my uniform?" And she says, "Yes." She's like, "Because you know, if it's at the White House, it's not a political event, so you can still wear your uniform." We had JAG look into it, that was great. Perfect. So you know, brand new Second Lieutenant, and I got my dress blues on, I invited Rob Morris who's a Navy pilot now, straight ally, one of our best. He was actually our Coordinator of Allies for the club. I said, "Come on, man, you definitely deserve this." He 20 came, great. We met people from – there was a bunch of military people there we met. We got to witness the first same-sex engagement proposal at the White House. SY: That's neat. JF: Yeah. We got tons of pictures, like, we went in the China Room, we went in the First Lady's room, the Lincoln Room, the Green Room, just taking pictures, all that kind of stuff. And President Obama came out and gave a speech. Came up, you know, we were in uniforms, so he came and shook our hands, he thanked us for our service. But, I mean, we just met people, I mean, we met authors for NCIS from California, to lobbyists, the director of the – I don't know his official title, but he's, like, the advisor to the president when it comes to the AIDS epidemic, both in the United States and worldwide. So we got to meet with him and talked with him, and just made great connections. So that was a great experience. But from there there's a national organization called OutServe-SLDN [OutServe-Servicemember Legal Defense Network], so it's an international organization that represents LGBT soldiers and veterans. So we have – there's organizations and there's clubs, chapters. Anywhere there's a military base. So every state has a chapter. We have chapters in Korea, Japan, Germany, Italy, England, anywhere where there's a military presence, there's a chapter. So I met with them and I started getting involved with them. And then just about a year ago, I got invited to serve on the board of directors. So at 24 years old, I sit on the board of directors of an international nonprofit organization. We work with the White House, with Congress, the Pentagon, State legislatures, of course other nonprofits, like HRC and stuff like that. So I get invited to different events all the time, depending on my travel and stuff like that, I get to make some of them. But we get invited to the Pentagon from time to time. But now we're actually working on – because even with the repeal in place, there is no discrimination law protecting LGBT soldiers. So you can serve openly, but you can still legally be discriminated against, and nothing can happen to the person who's discriminating against you. So we're actually, as an organization, we're working with Congress and different DOD individuals to actually get in the EO policy LGBT. So one of the things that just happened was in July, I want to say, if I'm remembering my data properly, Secretary Hagel signed – added LGBT into the Military Human Rights Charter, which is the first step to getting the LGBT, or LGB since they still don't identify transgender as service members – SY: (inaudible) [00:34:04] in there, yeah. JF: Yeah, into the EO policy. SY: That's (inaudible) [00:34:07], right? JF: Yeah. So, I mean, it's helped me a lot, working out like I'm just – I mean, I'm about to go 21 down to Austin in a little bit to – in a little bit – but in a couple of days to start working and volunteering with HRC, now that my training is a little bit more steady. So it's been good. It definitely gave me the education, the foundation, the courage, the drive to do what I need to do to meet my goals and passions. SY: So I just want a couple more questions, and then you must be exhausted (inaudible) [00:34:44]. So first of all, I bet there were some gay alumni who contacted you, right? I would imagine that you've had positive encounters from alumni? JF: Yes. Yes, I mean one of the most positive – so when the news first broke out that we were going to have a Pride event, I remember one of my first messages I received was from a Board of Fellows, and she contacted me, and she was, like, "I want to start off with letting you know I'm extremely proud of you. Extremely proud to call myself a Norwich alum this day." She was, like, "I also want to warn you, though, that you're about to go through some hell." She says, you know, "Through this, I just want to let you know that I want you to stay strong. If you ever need someone to talk to, let me know. And I'll be there to help you, whether it's through a phone call," or, you know. And then we had just this past – I want to say it was just this past Alumni Weekend, this past one that we just passed, or maybe it was the one before that. A transgender Corps of Cadets member contacted me. So when she went through the Corps of Cadets, she was a he, and she just got interjected into the old guard. So she's saying, like, "I'm extremely proud of you guys," you know, "I'm going to this huge" – it's going to be, I mean, 70-something going into the old guard as a female, but went through the Corps of Cadets as a male – SY: This is Georgia? JF: Yes. SY: Yeah, I mean, I did interview her. I did. JF: Yeah. You know, so she contacted us. What was another really positive one? Even more recently, I had positive one. I was at the HRC dinner in DC, so thousands of individuals. And they hold it at the conference center there in DC. And this guy comes up to me, he says, "You're Joshua Fontanez, right?" And you know, by this time, I'm still in my dress uniform, this was – oh, when was this? This was recently. This was, like, this was in September of this year, so years after this all happened. So I'm like, "Yeah." He's like, "I'm on the Board of Fellows at Norwich." He's like, "I just want to let you know that even though it happened years ago, I still remember when the articles first came out. I'm extremely proud of you still. Keep up the good work. Keep in contact," like he handed me his business card. So yeah, we got a lot of positive support. And that was definitely one of the things we talked about, you know, when we talk about it strategically, is how do we get more alumni involved when it comes to the positive 22 aspect? And unfortunately, it was, like, yeah, of course we have a lot of pressure when it comes to alumni not liking organizations like this, or liking a movement like this or liking events like this, and they have financial influence to try to slow it down or stop it. So how do we find the alumni who actually have the money to push it along and stuff like that? SY: Well, one of the largest donors we have right now is Jennifer Pritzker. JF: Yeah. SY: So, I mean, you know, there's some hope in that direction, I would think. In terms of the LGBTQ. JF: Yes, because I remember, I think the Pritzker fund, the donations actually went up from – that was, like, one of the things – I think that was one of the things that really did save us, is their donations went up as this club got more notice. And that was one of the things that we were told. So that was definitely a saving grace in that aspect. SY: Yeah. And she gives millions of dollars to the university. JF: Yeah. SY: Another question I have, and this is, like, me putting my academic historian hat on, and like, we both know that, like, Norwich's gay history when, like, you know, your club had its first couple of meeting on September 20th, right? JF: Yeah. SY: And I wonder if there is any way to sort of capture some of these stories of the, like, many, many closeted years of Norwich's history. So if you can think of any alum who are up to talking with me about their experiences when they were here in classes, decades, you know, in the decades before this, that would be great. JF: Yeah, definitely. And I – SY: And have you heard any stories? Have you heard any stories that you can tell? JF: I haven't heard a lot of stories, so my stories have always been, like, second-hand stories, so, like, definitely to get the names of the individuals you want to talk to, the two people I would say talking to is Dean Mathis, because, I mean, she was there when it was still two colleges, you know, when we had the off-campus civilian college. And she tells stories all the time about 23 students coming up to her, begging her for a club like this, and her always telling them, I mean, and this was the one thing she always regrets, is she used to tell them, like, "Listen, I'm scared for you." Like, "It's not that I wouldn't support you, that I don't think the university needs it," she goes, "I don't think I could protect you." You know, "I think you would physically be assaulted," or, you know. And that would be her advice to them, it's, like, not that I don't want to support you, but my advice to you is to stay safe, and I don't think you can safely do this. So she could probably give you some good names, I mean some really good names. And at the same time, President Schneider. Because President Schneider use to tell, I don't know, I forget the alumni, but he used to tell me, "We have an alumni who works in the Pentagon who used to, I want to say he used to be in the Navy, and now he's just a civilian contractor in the Pentagon. So he'll bring interns in and stuff like that, and they'll work for him for a couple of months, and at the end, he'll tell them, like, 'Hey listen, it really doesn't affect your internship, but I want you to know that I'm gay, and that we worked together for this entire time. So now that you go through your life, you know that, one, there are successful gay people out there, and we're just like everyone else.'" And then I think the alumni – I don't know if you've been – I'm sure you have been – in the main building, is it Jackson? Jackman. It's only been a couple of years, I'm already forgetting – my memory – so Jackman Hall, they have the long Corps of Cadets pictures, where they used to put the whole Corps of Cadets and they have the long ones, I guess the photographer, whoever used to be the regimental photographer for that, who actually came up with the idea to do the photograph like that is gay, and is open. I can't remember his name, President Schneider used to mention him from time to time in our meetings, when we had our one-on-one meetings together. So those are two individuals I would say definitely sit down with and talk, because they can give you, like, 10, 15 years ago, you know – I can tell you a couple when – SY: I'd love to get 40 years ago. JF: Yeah. SY: You know? I would love to do that. But I, you know, and this is the problem, of trying to turn over a queer history, and it's hard to do. But, you know, it would be great if I could get somebody from the '50s or the '60s to talk. But I don't think that'll happen, sadly. JF: I mean, with timing, Alumni Weekend, or as you hit up one alumni, maybe they give you a couple other names. I mean – SY: Yeah, yeah. 24 JF: There's definitely that domino effect out there. SY: Yeah. Yeah, yeah. All right, so I'm just wondering, my last question, any other people I should talk to? Any other students that were active with you at the time who you feel would want to be interviewed? JF: So right now, and she just got back from her study abroad from China, Rickie [Feitner?]. If you try to look up her Norwich email, her real first name is Rebecca, but everyone calls her "Rickie." She was extremely, extremely active. She was a freshman my senior year. Extremely passionate. Dr. Newman is an individual I'd talk to. She currently doesn't work at the university, she works in Delaware. The head of the Civic Center – SY: Oh, yeah, I've already met with her. JF: OK. Perfect. Nicole. SY: Dominico. JF: Yeah, Nicole. Who else? The – Dr. Kelly. He's – SY: Dr. Kelly, oh, yes? JF: Because he's in the engineer department now, if I'm tracking correctly, still. SY: Yeah, no, he is. He's still here. Was he very supportive? JF: Yeah, I mean, he was. Because he was always that father figure, like, he was very – oh. He always had that aspect of, like, he knew – it's not necessarily like he agreed with the lifestyle, but he knew it was the right thing to do. And he used to have this story about, like, you know, I don't know if it was his sister-in-law, but she had a wife. And he said, "I've never seen two people ever show so much love for each other or so much care for each other, than these two." SY: I think it's his cousin. JF: It's his cousin? SY: She's (inaudible) [00:43:51]. JF: OK. So yeah, he used to have a family member, and he used to tell that story. 25 SY: Yes. JF: But him and his wife showed up to the prom that night, and he said, like, you know, "In all my years here in Norwich, it's the first time I ever saw two same-sex individuals actually dance together, with each other. And they didn't care that I was watching." As a Commandant, or head of Student Affairs at the time, you know, one of the top officials, you know, for the university. I mean, he was extremely, extremely supportive. He was always one who never spoke quickly. He used to think before he spoke. You could just look at his face, and you know he was thinking. He always took that time to think before he spoke, which unfortunately, in society today is a lost art. I'm trying to think of other students, I mean, I can email you a list of other students. SY: Yeah, why don't you email me, just when you think about it. JF: Yeah. I mean, I can get you a list, but I want to give you full names. I already have, like, four or five people in my head, like, both allies and individuals who identified as either being gay or lesbian. I'm actually thinking of people who were on both sides of the issues, because I definitely want to have a full 360 of the event and the issues, and stuff like that. I mean, it was. There were some individuals who were gay who didn't agree with the club, or who didn't agree with the movement, and who were very content on being in the closet and this being an issue that was never brought up. So I think they definitely deserve to be heard as well. SY: And I really do think, you know, 20, 30 years from now it will be, some historian is going to go into the archives and be, like, look at this moment on this military campus, right? Look at the controversies, right? So the more people I can talk to who can speak to the issue and all the complexities about it. JF: Yeah, and definitely on the historical aspect, I said, like, I'm sure you have or you will talk to President Schneider, because I remember he got a call from VMI. And the four-star there pretty much called him and said, "Listen, I have – because of your college having this club founded, students want to found one at my college. And I have no clue on how to react to this. How did you deal with this?" I got an email from a girl in Taiwan who wanted to know how we could help them found their club. We mentored both the West Point and the Air Force Academy with getting their clubs started. We sent students down to a private school in Massachusetts to do lectures with them on how to be supportive of LGBT students, and stuff like that. So the scope of just how much instantaneous in one year we affected multiple universities and high schools and stuff like that was astounding. 26 SY: Yeah, it's pretty amazing. Do you think you to some degree you shifted the culture of the university too? Maybe not even in terms of gay issues, but in terms of (inaudible) [00:46:44]. JF: I think so. I think, I mean, it made people – it called a lot of people out on an issue. Because, I mean, a lot of people, I would say the cultural aspect undoubtedly, because I remember everyone used to be, like, you know, in public, because you know, it's taboo to be, like, oh, "I hate" – to openly say, like, "I hate a gay student." No one would openly say that and keep their job. And I remember Dr. Kelly got every faculty member – so not the academic staff, but all the other faculty. So all the Commandants, all the Sergeant Majors, all the support staff, and he brought them down to the Milano Ballroom and had a meeting. And afterwards, I went to Dean Mathis, and went, "How was this meeting?" She's like, "Josh," she's like, "You don't believe the beehive you just smacked." She's like, "An individual who I literally work" – because her office was combined with one of the Commandants' office, because they were redoing his office. She's like, "He sits there every day, sees you come in and talk to me about this club and about your movements, and about this stuff." She's like, "He is probably one of your least supporters." She said, "Behind closed doors, he doesn't believe this club should exist, he doesn't believe in your lifestyle, he doesn't believe in what you do." And she said, "Let me tell you this right now." She's like, "General Kelly put them all on notice." She was like, "That meeting officially was their official warning to HR. If they do anything" – because the big mentality really was, their concern was that a Commandant would turn their back. Like, say, like hypothetically, I was getting jumped or something like that, that they would turn their back and not do anything about it. Or, like of an event happened and a Commandant – because if the Commandants had to be on duty during these events, like if they had to show up, that was their biggest fear, is, like, if they would see something happening or know something was going to happen and not do anything about it. Which is kind of a shame to say if, you know, a 40, 50-year-old adult who the majority of them had prior military service. SY: Yeah. JF: But he put them all on notice that day. And I mean, it's the mentality, this was our faculty and staff. It was like, now you – it wasn't even the student body, you know, LGBT members were scared of. It was their own professors, their on Commandants, their own mentors, you know? I think we destroyed a big culture of fear. We definitely established that students can make a change, and students can question and still be successful. But yeah, a lot of stuff when it came to bullying, when it came to acceptance, I mean – and I always find it funny, because some of our individuals who were completely against us in the gay community would have never came out unless there was this controversy. It was, like, some of these individuals who were, like, "Oh, I know you've been gay for a year," or two years or three years. "You never had plans on coming out, not until this" – "I don't even care if you were against us," I was like, "But you came 27 out." So I'll take that as a win, because I know you may not thank me now, but in five years when you find your significant other and you're extremely happy, you know, you're going to thank me for that, 'Hey listen, four years ago I came out,' you may regret why you came out, or the stance you took when you came out. But you're out." So it's like, I'll take – SY: People evolve, right – JF: Yeah. SY: I mean they feel when they first come out, it's better than when— Here's where they (inaudible) [00:50:15], I'm sure they changed their mind. JF: Oh, like I said, I have complete empathy, because I know, I was in their shoes. Like I said, I was in high school making fun of individuals who were out. So, I can – I never held that against them, because I knew the process of what I went through when I came out. And I knew the process, I know the fear, I knew the pain. I knew the loneliness that can be there and the reaction of human nature, I want to be – you know, if it was cool, if it was okay and accepted, you wouldn't be a minority, you know? People don't make fun of the majority of people, you know? So therefore, you want to be in the majority, you want to be the accepted person. You want to be the cool side of the lunchroom, or whatever. So you naturally migrate towards them. And unfortunately, unless you have individuals who constantly remind you or keep you accountable, you do give up some of the aspects of who you are, or what you believe in, to assimilate to that culture. SY: Yeah. Did you get physically attacked at any point? Or just a lot of threats? JF: Oh no, just a lot of – I was a big muscular guy, I mean, I could – SY: Right. JF: I could handle myself. SY: [That's good?]. JF: No, like, and I was never fear – I mean, there were, I mean, like I said, there were definitely some staff members who were extremely afraid that, you know, that I would be beaten up, or if, you know – I was told never to walk around, like, at night, you know, alone. They had the cameras outside my room and all this other kind of stuff. But I never had fear, I mean my mentality in life has always been, like, I'm destined for greater things than being beat up, or 28 pushed down some stairs, or something like that. I'm, like, you know, that was never a fear of mine. SY: I don't know if I have any more questions, any last things to add? We covered a lot. JF: I think we did. I mean, it's definitely – I enjoyed it. SY: You enjoyed the interview, or just other – JF: Oh, I enjoyed Norwich, I enjoyed the interview, I enjoyed the events, I mean – SY: So you did this, yeah, and that's what's going to be great, that you really did enjoy Norwich. Even through all of this, how do you feel – I guess that's it. How do you feel now when you reflect upon your four years at Norwich? JF: Oh, I'm extremely proud of – I mean, I would go back again. People tell me all the time, like, I mean, I have a lot of coworkers from all the different military colleges, whether it's Citadel, VMI, West Point. I think I'm the only one who says, like, yeah, I'd go back and do it in a heartbeat again. Absolutely. Met a lot of people. I don't know, maybe it's just my first – because I'm not sure, I met some people from Norwich who said, like, "No, I'd never go back," I mean, between the knowledge I gained there, the connections I gained, the friendships I gained, you know, the high-speed pace that was between, like, okay, have to balance classes. I mean, I literally would leave my room at 6:00 in the morning for PT and usually not get back until 8:00 at night, just because between classes, meetings, sitting in the board of director's office, with President Schneider, and you know, all the Commandants, and voicing the opinions of the student body, whether it was through student government or the Corps leadership, or working with volunteer organizations, through Nicole's office, or working with Greg and student activities. I mean, I loved it. It offered so much. That's why it was shocking when people say, like, "Oh, I'm bored at Norwich," or, "There's nothing to do." I'm like, "There's absolutely an amazing amount. Norwich gives you the potential to be whoever you want to be and do whatever you want to do. You just have to be willing to actually tap into that potential, tap into the resources that are there, utilize them properly." And I mean, what you can do, where you can go is unlimited. And some places don't give you that opportunity. And, I mean, Norwich gave me the opportunity, and I feel that I utilized it to the best of my ability. SY: Well, that seems like a good place to end. Thank you for talking today. END OF AUDIO FILE

Issue 52.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1993. ; for r elig ious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° 5001 Eastern Avenue ° P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP J~an Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯ VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER4 contents 486 feature The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future Mary.Jo Weaver gives contemporary meaning to the legacy of Angela Merici and the Ursulines. prayer 503 Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ shares the struggle of a desert-day experience. 507 Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Robert McCown SJ explains how Christian Zen, or centering prayer, as an ancillary to the Spiritual Exercises offers spiritual repose. 519 God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Mary Corona FMDM shares her experience of God's working in a thirty-day retreat. 532 541 548 spiritual life What Trouble Is Tad Dunne ponders how coping with trouble allows us to find energies that produce growth. Prayer, Memories, and God Theresa Mancuso suggests a fascinating relationship between recalling joyful and painful memories and praying to God. Adding Up 75 Years Vera Gallagher RGS adds up the balance sheet of God's love in her own life history. 482 Review for Religious 553 566 574 apostolate Prayer and Work, Mostly in South Africa Timothy Stanton CR believes that intercession is the main respon-sibility of the church in the painful process of bringing a new South Africa to birth. Religious Life in West Africa 1966-1990 Martin O'Reilly CFC offers an outline of the development of reli-gious life from foreign-born to local-born in West Africa. The Sanctification of Their Neighbor Thaddeus J. Kazanecki CO examines some characteristics of the Italian confraternal life within which St. Philip Neri founded the Congregation of the Oratory. 584 596 6O2 610 religious life Culture and Contemplative Community Marie Beha OSC reflects on how living the Franciscan charism in the United States can be ddngerous both for U.S. Poor Clares and U.S. culture. Canonical Room for Charisms William F. Hogan CSC emphasizes the uniqueness to be fostered by each particular religious institute for the good of the church's mission. Journal of a Novice Director Melannie Svoboda SND explores the mind and heart of a novice director through excerpts that could be found in a journal. A Family Business: Management in Religious Congregations Dennis Newton SVD spells out some practical directives for deal-ing with complications arising from interaction between religious-congregation members and nonmembers in the workplace. departments 484 Prisms 616 Canonical Counsel: The Synod on Consecrated Life 622 Book Reviews 37-uly-Aug~st 1993 483 prisms A seminarian recently told me, in a certain exasperated way, of his frustration about political label-ing in the church. Informally representing others of sim-ilar age, he pointed out that he has known no other church than the post-Vatican II church. An English-language liturgy, a catechetical training distinguished more by ques-tions than by answers, parish organizations still in devel-oping stages, a school faculty composed mostly of lay teachers, along with a few religious women and men not appearing all that different in dress or in lifestyle from their lay counterparts--these are the only memories of church that he has. He has no more nostalgia for the prac-tices of the church of earlier years than he has for the cel-ebrated golden age of radio before the advent of television. His complaint is that any expressed desires for con-nectives to a pre-Vatican II church immediately raise the likelihood of himself and other people his age being called "neoconservatives." These thirtysomething people and younger want rather to explore more fully their heritages of Catholic .faith and practice. They have no battles to fight over the rigidities and meaninglessness that were part of some Catholic devotions and regulations of the recent, past. They are gra,teful for the freedom and respon-sibility which "older" church members have not always felt comfortable with. They appreciate the maturing fits-and- starts of an American hierarchy in providing leader-ship in their letters on peace and justice and on economics and even in the failed .attempt to address the role of women in society and the church. They see as well-mean-ing but fearful the attempts at control and centralization made by what they might want to label as a "conserva- 484 Review for Religious tive" Vatican bureaucracy. But they are nevertheless looking, sometimes toward the past, for something more in their church than they have at present. They would want, in Jesus' imagery, to be like the "head of a household who can bring from his store-room both the new and the old" (Mt 13:52). If I have rather faithfully understood and presented a major concern of significant numbers of younger members in the church, I believe that their complaint is legitimate. The necessity for an in-depth contact with and study of our rich heritages has never been more apparent. We are all-too-aware of the old truism that unless we know our past we are condemned to keep repeating it. We in the church are also well aware that the danger of being prisoners of the past is all-too-real, with the embarrassing irrel-evance of various "churchy" issues in the face of modern world problems and technology. So for us to know our heritages is to have the strength of consistency with our past but also the stim-ulus to move into a creative future where our faith is a light for appropriate decision and action. Our feature article, "The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future" by Mary Jo Weaver, is one attempt to make contact with a heritage in this kind of significant way. I hope that this article will serve as a model for people to study and write engagingly about other heritages, with implications for the present and future opportunities of those very heritages. The women and men who lived our heritages before they were heritages make vivid the values necessary for today's Christian living and the courage it takes to live these values in the face of difficulties, including at times the opposition of good people. This journal has a privileged role to play in bringing people into greater contact with the good-ness within so many spiritual families that live together in our church. In coming to know more fully the relevance of our spiri-tual heritages, we dan expect that our liturgical and prayer practices will be more life-giving, our ministries inspired by gospel beati-tudes will be more clearly focused, and our lives supported in Christian community will be more vigorous. Vatican II and the subsequent years have given the church the occasion for straightening out the gospel storeroom. Now we, the church members, need to enrich our faith lives by com-ing to know and use its treasures, both new and old. David L. Fleming SJ yuly-A1lgust 1993 485 feature MARY JO WEAVER The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future I found the title of my talk in the first sentence of Agnes Repplier's biography of M~re Marie: "Of course," she says, "the Ursulines were the most adventurous of nuns." As I skimmed the book, I found phrases like "the most adven-turous of patronesses," the "robust intelligence and fear-less imagination" of the founder, and the "constitutional fearlessness and valorous spirit" of the first missionary to North America. The women most often mentioned in Ursuline history--St. Ursula, Angela Merici, and Mhre Marie--were all formidable figures, and as I read about them I was wafted back into a romantic past when pio-neering women were intrepid and when everything worked out all right in the end. Although the women associated with Ursuline history were not feminists in any modern sense of the word, I wondered what it would mean to attempt a feminist reading of their lives. I was drawn most powerfully into Angela's life, but not before the other two made me stop and take notice. The medieval legend of Ursula as a graceful, beauti-ful, wise, cultured scholar whose learning amazed the doc- Mary Jo Weaver is professor of religious studies and women's studies at Indiana University in Bloomington. Author of Springs of Water in a Dry Land: Catholic I, Vomen and Spiritual Survival (Beacon Press, 1993) and other works, she spent ten years explor-ing feminist issues in the American Catholic Church and has recently begun a long-term research project on traditionalist Catholics in the United States. Her address is 1030 S. Mitchell; Bloomington, Indiana 47401. 486 Review for Religiot~s tors of the church explains why she inspired so many paintings and poems. The bare outlines of her mythical life--martyred along with eleven .thousand virgins with whom she was wandering around barbarian Europe--are fanciful, to say the least, but I do not think it troublesome that the historical facts about her are rather dim. True or false, her legends shaped part of the Catholic tradition and tell us something about the roles women were able to play in the medieval imagination. That she was a virgin, the patron of innocent girls, and a charismatic figure and leader even though she was single--neither married nor in a convent--was obviously attractive to Angela. When I moved to the stories surrounding M~re Marie, leader of the first Ursuline mission in North America, I found genuine historical material used by her biographer in a skilled portrait. Repplier's biography can be summarized in this sentence: "She had escaped every groove in which she had been imprisoned by circumstances." It is a marvelous summary of the life of an ordi-nary woman responding to extraordinary demands, and that seems to be an Ursuline theme, at least in the North American context, where Ursulines were on the scene early and seemed to thrive in the most desperate of situations. Male historians, who typically pay little attention to women, unite in praise for the teaching charism of the Ursulines and their civilizing power on the frontier. There is more, of course, but the bottom line from the his-torians is a witness to dedicated purpose: "The development most distinctively American was the role in educating the young assumed so largely by a myriad of women's communities, begin-ning with the Ursulines in New Orleans in 1727." These same historians do not make much of the fact that the founder of the Ursulines was an independent and rather remarkable woman sur-rounded by strong, inventive women. Those attributes attracted me, however, and it became clear to me that the best way to think about Ursulines was to get to know their founder. Besides, there seemed to be excellent sources of information: well-researched critical biographies, spiritual reflections, historical notes, and modern symposium notes say something about the kind of energy Angela Merici has inspired in her followers. About Angela Merici, there seems to be solid historical ground for an interpretation, but as with the stories of other founders and other times, the pious imagination has sometimes filtered the facts. For example, Angela is remembered ih connection with the July-Aug'ust 1993 487 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns education of girls and is sometimes pictured as energetically open-ing schools; but she neither spent her time founding academies, nor was she drawn primarily to an apostolate of education. Her pioneering spirit was directed towards the moral support of young girls and the regeneration of society as it could be accomplished through a formation program within family settings. Still, because she established a company of independent women at a time when things were astonishingly bad for women, Angela is an example of the "theoretical feminism" that some critics believe has always existed even though it was seldom successful. Theoretical femi-nism means the dedication of women to the abolition of hie(ar-chics, especially those that put women under the direction of men. That description appears to fit Angela's context, and the fact that she tried her experiment during the Renaissance makes her case even stronger. One of the salient points made by feminist historians for the last twenty-five years has to do with periodization. The ways we mark historical periods have been set by men and often mark the realities of women's lives. The late Joan Kelly ~nade this argu-ment with specific reference to Renaissance Italy, Angela's time and place. According to Kelly,.there were no gains for women during the Renaissance. In fact, the age was marked by a restric-tion of the scope of women's powers. Female sexuality, women's economic and political roles, their cultural power in shaping the outlook of their societies, and the ideology about women all underwent profound changes, mostly to the diminishment of women. Yet Angela acted as if the subordination of women was not an issue for her. The "new subordination of women to the inter-ests of husbands and male-dominated groups" that went hand in hand with Renaissance "progress" did not seem to touch her per-sonally though it may account for the rather quick enclosure of the women Angela hoped could live a more autonomous existence. Like fascinating women everywhere, Angela regularly over-turns predictable assmnptions about her. The woman who gath-ered the company later valorized as "the most adventurous of nuns" seems to have been the most reluctant of founders. The founder who has gone into history as one of the world's great pioneers of education seems not to have been that at all, and the visionary who heard a voice from heaven in her teens finally got around to acting on it when she was an old woman. Angela's life fits no .pattern that I can find unless it might be 488 Review for Religious that of Dorothy Day, who summarized her own life's work by say-ing that she never planned to do very much at all. "Opportunities presented themselves and we responded," she used to say, refus-ing to be relegated to the musty shelves of sainthood, out of ordi-nary reach. Dorothy Day is not a perfect parallel figure for understanding Angela, but can help us to perceive the more or less prosaic ways in which ordinary people can be propelled into extraordinary activity. Almost everything we know about Angela Merici happened in Brescia, a small but very volatile city. In 1401 it had been dubbed "the little Rome" because it had 70 churches and 50 monasteries for a population of 16,000, yet sixty years later the apocalyptic reformer Savanarola preached sermons there evoking visions of hellfire and damnation to inspire a change of heart in a morally bankrupt population. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of episcopal leadership. Paulo Zane, absentee bishop there for fifty years (1481-1531), seemed to be in a contest with corrupt popes, cardinals, and priests to see who could lead the most lav-ish and egocentric life. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of its geographical location; it was used, stomped on, and overrun by various armies during the complex territorial wars that dominated the region in the late 15th and early 16th cen-turies. When the French sacked the city in 1512, four years before Angela arrived, the torture and killing of local citizens was so ferocious that all of Europe was shocked by it. If we think of mod-ern- day Somalia, or parts of Latin America or the Middle East, we would not be far off in our analogy. The context for Angela's life, therefore, was collapse and tran-sition. The medieval models for politics and religion were not working, but nothing better was yet in place--a time, in other words, not entirely unlike our own. It was also a time of rampant corruption and moral gridlock, in which those "in charge" appeared uninterested in the daily spiritual li;¢es of ordinary peo-ple. Outside of the 10th century, it is hard to imagine a worse set of popes, one after another, than those who occupied the Holy See then; nearly half of the men who~e stories make up Chamberlain's The Bad Popes ruled during Angela's lifetime. Religious life, although abundantly present, was scandalous rather than edifying, creating a kind of spiritual vacuum for a scream of protest to fill. And, of course, someone did produce such a scream. A young Augustinian monk teaching Scripture at Wittenberg protested .~uly-Aug'ust 1993 4.89 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Charlotte Lichtblau vehemently, but that is a different story. It is not clear how sharply the Lutheran remonstrances touched Angela herself. Many of the reformers of the 16th century--Teresa of Avila, for example-- were so taken up with their own missions that they appear to belong to a climate of religious reform that has very little to do with the great Protestant revolt that began a year after Angela arrived in her new home. Still, ten years later, in 1527, a major anti-Catholic demonstration in Brescia signified, among other things, that people there were in a state of spiritual uproar. 490 Review for Religious To understand Angela's context, therefore, we have to imag-ine a situation that felt generally hopeless and beyond control. The northern Italian borders were not secure, and towns like Brescia were a kind of permanent war zone, not always the scene of bloodshed, but sufficiently precarious to raise the disease rate, encourage prostitution, destabilize families, and generally scuttle normal life. Religious leaders were nowhere to be seen unless one happened to be in Rome attending the theater. The streets of Brescia in 1532 probably resembled Times Square in 1993. They were full of con men sensing opportunities, young women selling themselves for their next meal, old men with diseases or old war wounds and no place to go, and ragged children darting from one bad situation to the next. Acting courageously in this little scene were some dedicated young men operating hospitals for "incur-ables" and a steadfast group of young women whose desire to help young girls led them to imagine themselves working together in a new way. What did these young idealists have in common besides a lively conscience and a desire for spirituality in action? They were all friends of or drawn to Angela Merici, an efficient, maternal woman who, by all accounts, had a magnetic personal-ity shaped by personal sanctity. She had even, so it was said, once had some kind of "vision." As I noted earlier, whatever the facts of her life, Angela Merici is not typical in any way. The outline of her visionary experience-- adolescent orphan girl sees something and claims to be instructed by it--is a standard story; but what Angela did with it is not. Her modesty in claiming very little for herself because of her experi-ence reminds me of Dame Julian of Norwich, who after a series of remarkable visions went on with a modest, reclusive life, recounting them to a scribe only much later. As an adolescent, Angela apparently had a profound religious experience--a dream or a vision--which she believed gave shape and direction to her life; but she did not immediately run to a bishop to disclose its contents, nor did she speculate about the concrete terms into which it might eventually be cast. She simply went about her life as a third-order Franciscan, te.aching catechism in her own village and willing to go wherever she was needed--to Brescia, as it turns out, when she was in her forties. Unless we count a pious life as extraordinary, she did not do anything out of the ordinary there. Perhaps the very routineness of her life calmed people: At the same time, the little things she .~uly-August 1993 491 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Like any normal prophet, she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling her. did made an impressibn on those around her. She lived a selfless life in the company of rich people and brought the attractive wis-dom of common sense to a besieged.situation. She apparently felt secure enough to pursue her lifestyle choice of virginity in the home of a wealthy young merchant, living in his house for more than a dozen years. She was an ascetic who was surrounded by friends, many of them men. She was a good organizer and pitched in to do what needed to be done--nursing, counseling, pro-tecting children, consoling the bereaved--but also apparently felt free enough to go galli-vanting off to Jerusalem, to Rome, and to Varolla, a kind of Holy Land theme park in the Alps. How it became clear to her that it was time to act upon her early vision and gather "a company of consecrated virgins" around her is not Clear to me, especially since I see her vari-ous trips as flights from that call. Every time someone called a meeting, she disappeared! In 1522, when she was in her early fifties, Angela went on a pilgrimage to Mantua, to the tomb of Blessed Osanna Andreasi, a third-order Dominican. Why? Did she simply want to honor this holy woman, or was she begin-ning to suspect that she herself was gifted beyond what she had up to now felt to be ordinary abilities? Did she hope by honoring Osanna, a new and popular cult figure, that she could elude her own fate, like Moses telling God that, in comparison with the articulate Aaron, he was simply not the man for the job? It seems reasonable to assume that she experienced some kind of inner turmoil and was seeking refuge from it. In that way--like any normal prophet, with the exception of Isaiah--she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling bet. Whether at Mantua she was seeking refuge or confirmation, however, she did not quit running away. Her next pilgrimage, in 1524 to Jerusalem, is what we might expect from such a woman in those times, and having an on-site episode of hysterical illness was not untypical. People in the highly charged atmosphere of a major place of pilgrimage often have unex-pected or frightening physical experiences, but let us examine this moment more closely. She did not, like Margery Kempe, faint or have visions of herself assisting at the birth of Jesus; she did not, like 492 Review for Religious Felix Fabri, feel as if her whole life had been turned upside down. She went blind and so could not see some of the holy places. When I read that story, I wonder what she did not want to see. On her way back from Jerusalem, she stopped awhile in Venice, where city officials begged her to stay and administer a hospital for incurables there, an honor and a challenge to which she responded by fleeing quickly and returning to Brescia. Running away from this opportunity would have made sense if she returned to Brescia to take on similar responsibilities there, but she did not. She was scarcely unpacked when she booked pas-sage on another pilgrimage, this time to Rome and the celebration of the jubilee year (1525). I read this activity as a voyage of internal discovery. Those attuned to their inner voices know that "you can run, but you can-not hide," something An\gela was trying to do in ever more press- xng ways. Whatever her reasons for going to Rome, once there she managed to get an audience with Pope Clement VII. It is hard to imagine this event without the kind of bribery required by most Renaissance popes, so if she managed to see the pope without such machinations, I daresay he already knew about her and saw how she might be useful to him. In any case, if she wanted the solace of a papal blessing, she received another scare instead: he begged her to stay in Rome and administer a hospital there. Here the story gets even more dramatic because, in the face of a papal request, Angela fled lest she be compelled by obedience. Other popes might have pursued her, but Clement was not a man of swift decision. His nickname--"I will and I won't"--was given to him because be was a notorious temporizer, agonizingly slow to make any decision. His disadvantage was her victory. She got herself back to Brescia and away from Rome. Perhaps she imagined she was now safe and sound. ¯ What can one make of all this flight? I see a woman who probably knew she had led a useful life, who was self-assured and willing to help out where she was needed, but not eager to fit into a role she could not yet imagine for herself. The idea that she might be more than a reasonably pious and useful woman and the fact that young people involved in arduous and creative cor-poral works of mercy gathered around her as if around a mother hen may have strained her .self-understanding. Maybe she was just tired--she was in her late fifties--maybe she was just stub-born. I find her self-possessed, unwilling to act until she herself j~uly-August 1993 493 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns was clear about what she might do and how she might act to con-trol her own future. In "running away" she found the time and space to begin to come to terms with it. It is fascinating to see this middle-aged woman struggle with the logical implications of her own life. She had been in Brescia for nearly fifteen years, living a prayerful life and doing good works. People thought her so wise and caring that they called her madre (a tide reserved for holy women and nuns), and from morn-ing to night she was called on by people seeking her advice or drawn to her sensible simplicity, A group of courageous young people who had their own ideas about how to live the gospel in a forlorn world were drawn to her spiritual power. And an increas-ingly clear apostolate, dedicated to the care and protection of young women, had been staring beseechingly at her since Elizabeth Prato, a friend young enough and devoted enough to be her daughter, started working with lost girls in 1522. Vv'hy, then, the reluctance? And why do I find it comforting? Without intending to be cryptic, I think it is middle age, Angela's and my own. Had she been in her twenties, perhaps she would have dived right into the creative community she founded, as many of today's middle-aged sisters, in their youth, were drawn into the irresistible energy of religious life with its sacrifices and promises. But, like many of us today, she was in her fifties, not so quick to act, distracted by alternatives and the cautions that come with age. Maybe she just wanted to live out her days in the mod-est way she had been doing. After all, it is reasonable at this age to be tending the gardens of one's own soul and unreasonable to be launching a major life project. Maybe the call which had come with such clarity many years earlier now seemed distant or unreal, impractical in the present situation. VVhen we are young, the idea that God wants us for something specific seems only natural. All the scary choices--marriage, motherhood, convent life, profes-sional training--are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. But when we are older, the same idea can make us wonder if we are imagining things; we see all the reasons not to believe what we are hearing. In such cases the mysterious ways that God is famous for often manifest themselves in some dramatic way. For Angela, not unlike many of the saints, illness was a factor. Fleeing again in 1529 to Cremona in order to get away from political intrigue and an active war zone, she became gravely ill. And here, I think, she 494 Review for Religio~ts encountered an interesting temptation that may have looked like the answer to her problems. Illness and death beckoned as an option, the last flight, the final escape. She apparently thought that she might really die there and--whether with drama or res-ignation I cannot say--took to her deathbed. Yet, when one of her young supporters composed her epi-taph and read it to her, she bounced back, not as ready to go to heaven as she imagined. Again, I think, she shows the wisdom of age, for it is only when we are very young that we find a "longing for death" something to nurture in our-selves. Angela, hearing her epitaph, dis-covered new energy in herself. She still may not have been ready to lead a new movement, but neither was she ready to be led into eternity to the strains of In Paradisum. Whatever happened to her during those days in Cremona, she was resolved, at the end of this exile, to put down her traveling staff and follow the spirit she had been running from. She made one more short trip to Varolla that winter, to renew her memories of the Holy Land-- a symbol for her sense of purpose--then returned to Brescia and moved into a small room in Elizabeth Prato's house near the church of St. Afra. Now nearly sixty, Angela tucked into this new stage of her life with determination. She lived even more austerely, spent more time in prayer, and began to instruct her spiritual daughters. It is probably only a geographical coincidence that Prato's house was near the church of St. Afra, a 4th-century prostitute who achieved sainthood through martyrdom; but it is interesting that the early work of Angela's group was partly directed at.opening possibili-ties for "penitent women," a euphemism .for prostitutes. By 1532 Angela had gathered a small group around her and developed a rather extraordinary and yet quite simple idea: all the women would engage in an exterior apostolate and lead vir-ginal and virtuous lives, but would take no vows. In its broad out-lines this plan is reminiscent of the Beguines, religious associations of women begun in the 12th century in Belgium and the All the scary choices-- marriage, motherhood, convent life, professional training-- are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. July-Augt~t 1993 495 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Netherlands. Their success in the 14th century did not impress itself upon the clerical mind so much as the fact that they took no vows and were not subject to the rules of any order. Did Angela know about them? Was she attracted by their relative autonomy? Did she think their exp+riment was worth another try? Her idea was so simple and so revolutionary that it boggled the minds of the authorities: women would commit themselves to an apostolate--the care, protection, and education of girls--and they would promise lifelong fidelity to consecrated virginity. We may consider how her plan might have threatened men. Pious men would see women able to lead useful virtuous lives without their advice, and "men of the world," accustomed to pursuing an occasional dalliance, might now have to sneak into the house late at night, only to be met with the soulful glances of an at-home daughter vowed to virginity. Angela's notion of governance was also disturbing. However much she said about obedience to authorities, the Holy Spirit was her real teacher, and so she stipulated for her daughters. Her desire to trust the activity of the Holy Spirit in the individual heart, however, did not appeal to male authorities. On the con-trary, it frightened them profoundly. Charles Borromeo--still in diapers when Angela died--found the idea of an unmediated Holy Spirit speaking directly to the heart and conscience of individual women wildly dangerous. The changes made by this young arch-bishop of Milan in Angela's Rule are not surprising to anyone with even a minimalist feminist consciousness. Borromeo was a man of his times; Angela was a woman ahead of hers. I find it fascinating that, unlike some other reformers and founders such as Teresa of Avila, Angela did not invoke the com-mands of Christ to carry out her purpose or to solidify her sense of authority. She was sure that what she was doing was made pos-sible by and would be sustained by God, but she exhibited no need to couch her ideas in the language of mystical certainty. Perhaps because she was single and surrounded by eager disci-ples she had no need to talk about divine directives. Perhaps she did not have any. Her ideas about community seem to follow directly from her own experience, an extension of her practical holiness. The memory of her vision--by now no more than a vague request to a bereaved girl--and a st.eady relationship with God were enough for her. The practicality and ordinariness of her plans made her an 496 Review for Religious inspired leader with amazing insight into the needs of women. The frescoes she commissioned for her oratory--the meeting space and prayer room for her young group--constitute a kind of "womanspace" in which her young followers could imagine new possibilities for themselves. Angela's frescoes gave her fol-lowers examples of spiritual heroism. Looking around in that room, young women saw Angela's models. Ursula, Elizabeth, Paula, Eustochium, and, by some accounts, Catherine of Alexandria make exquisite sense and testify to the power of Angela's self-concept. She did not choose prepubescent martyrs or women noted for fasting and silence; she selected strong, bright, self-confident women. It is worth lingering on this point. Although the Catholic tra-dition has a long list of impressive women saints, women whose sanctity rests on suffering, self-effacement, and masochistic penances often predominate. That Angela did not choose such models for her girls speaks eloquently, not only to Angela's time, but also to our own. The women in her murals are all.mature, educated, learned, single, undaunted by male threats or violence, and autonomous in their fashion. Like Angela herself, these women exhibit an inner certainty and independence, making no great claims for themselves, but creating atmospheres of respect by their clearheaded, fearless lives. Even if we look at the under-side of their stories--Elizabeth's sick relationship with her spiri-tual director, for example--the last line of the story is one of strength rather than brokenness. All these women are virgins-- some belatedly, some, like Ursula, spectacularly--and all com-bine devotion to learning with lives of Christlike action. Within two years of the setting up of the oratory, Angela and twenty-eight of the young women who regularly visited that col-orful space signed a book promising to serve faithfully as members of the company of St. Ursula. Within five years that number more than quintupled, and Angela died, leaving behind a growing group, three small documents, and a legacy of self-reliance. How does one survive in a world where, in Yeats's descrip-tion, "the centre cannot hold"? Angela's writings suggest that she endured by reliance on the Holy Spirit, self-confidence, adapt-ability, and kindness. She assumed that her daughters would sur-vive and that God would somehow take care of them, but I see no evidence that she had much stake in gathering a group that would last forever. She does not appear to have been much of a worrier, 3%dy-~lugust 1993 497 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns perhaps because she thought of herself as a mother and had such a fearless concept of motherhood. Angela's model of mothering was dominated neither by the medieval bias that considered women to be morally and intellec-tually inferior nor by Renaissance romanticizing. In her reckon-ing, a mother is loving, but also demanding; tough as well as flexible; able to embody both divine mercy and divine judgment. As CarolynWalker Bynum has shown, these qualities are partic-ularly important in contrast to concepts of divine motherhood that we find in the writings of medieval monks. For them, moth-ers are eternally nurturing, never critical, always available, in other words, stereotypical in the worst ways. Angela's concept of motherhood is the best indicator of her independent spirit. Like the great female mystics of Helfta-- Gertrude the Great, Mechtild--she was able to look into the mir-ror and see herself and her daughters as powerful even as they committed themselves to lives of service. She managed for much of her life to be what many of us hope eventually to become, self-accepting, aware of life's bleak realities without being defeated by them, and so quietly self-confident that it seems not to have occurred to her that she would not be able to do what needed to be done. In managing to live without marrying or entering a convent, and seeing no reason why other women could not do the same, she may have failed to recognize the extraordinary qualities of her own personality, but in that, too, I see modest ambitions con-cealing a powerful sense of purpose. If I can do this, she seems to say, so can you. Little Wonder that young women were attracted to her. She looks out from the past, not with directives, but with encouragement. "Take heart," she says, "I have confidence in you." The word that dominates her writings is kindness, the notion that people can teach more effectively, pray more openly, and act in the world more compellingly insofar as they remember to be tender, encouraging, loving. The ability of hers to enable her fol-lowers by encouraging them to trust themselves is no small thing to emulate in these times of confusion and anxiety about the future of religious life. Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's oppor-tunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Among other things, feminism is a countercultural movement related to the ways women are taught to act and to imagine themselves. As 498 Review for Religiozts someone deeply committed to women in an age that was deter-mined to keep women in lives of subservience, Angela was coun-tercultural. Her relationships, attitudes, and actions did not fit the norm for Renaissance women, nor did they fit into the accepted molds for "pious" laywomen. She did not take up residence with a man in order to have an overseer, for example, nor did she count it a danger to faith to be living outside the control of a husband or a bishop. When she says, in Counsel number 7, to follow the old Law but lead a new Life, she makes a countercultural statement. In the ways she used her own expe-rience to make her life and the lives of other women better, she did then what feminists urge women to do now. Like women in most times, she knew that she could not operate as men do, by domi-nating a situation, and so learned to lead by other means. She was a madre, a mother and leader whose "gov-ernance" was more by example than by decree. At the same time, she was not afraid of provocative images of power, urging her fol-lowers to be "like Judith," the Israelite woman who saved her peo-ple by beheading the enemy leader, Holofernes. In her Counsels Angela suggests that her followers serve oth-ers; practice gentleness; not be anxious if they do their best; build community anywhere; teach by example; find refuge in Jesus; nur-ture those entrusted to them; honor authority in the community; and live in harmony. People can, of course, read those bits of guidance in profoundly conservative ways to suggest that Ursuline women simply comply with rightful authority and define them-selves in terms of old-fashioned virtues of maternal charity. Compassion, prayer, solidarity, and a creative imagination, they might say, have been the tools women have used for centuries to shape life toward their purposes, find they work well in traditional models. But I think it is also possible to read them as directions from a self-possessed, powerful woman to those she expected to follow her lead. The bottom line is Angela herself: she trusted her friends and counted on them to be able to make use of their own experience as she had done. As I see her legacy, she was more Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's opportunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns interested in encouraging women to trust themselves than she was in providing them with a set of rules and regulations. However one interprets her life, the things Angela did can still be done. Women today--laywomen and religious women--have moved beyond passivity and found new ways to make innovations and to ameliorate social ills, as she did. She knew how to read and respond to the sigris of the times in creative ways and assumed that her followers would, too. She was able to read the gospel in prag-matic terms, as a demand to respond to the human demands of everyday life, and left that as part of her legacy. She looked for a new form of religiou~ life within her own experience and com-bined it with the tried-and-true formulae of work and prayer and fasting to come up with something so ahead of its time that it scared the men in charge of things. That can still be done, too. Whatever happens to "religious life" over the next few years-- and there is no end of controversy about it--I believe that at least three things need to be combined with your own reading of Angela's life. These general recommendations apply to all of us. First, we need to know the Catholic tradition: to be literate about revelation, creation, redemption, Christology, grace, and the rest, not in order to hold on in an obdurate or triumphal way, but to have a solid appreciation of what Catholicism is and is not. With Angela as a model, be assured that I am not talking about the truncated tradition handed on by men, the one that excluded women. I am talking about the full, richly embodied, woman-rich tradition of Roman Catholicism. Those who teach young people know that we now stand in a stream of Catholic tradition that very few people really know or understand. Those whose lives are focused on education might be both scandalized and galva-nized by that fact. Second, we need to have a firm grasp of the sacramentality of Catholicism since it both strengthens the spirit and informs the imagination. If we understand that the things of the world are sacred, that God is often present in the most unlikely of places, then we might see new possibilities in the universe. We need, in other words, as Angela did, to cultivate our religious sensibili-ties: to paint frescoes, create new holy cards, celebrate life. Finally, I think we should read Scripture and its commentaries and make that a part of our prayer. Angela may have done good works and taught her "daughters". all afternoon, but only, I think, because she spent the mornings in St. Afra's in front of the altar, sometimes 500 Review for Religious deeply connected, sometimes wildly distracted, but always, rou-tinely, there. I was attracted to Angela Merici originally because she was a powerful woman and, in my reading, a reluctant founder. As I read and thought more about her, I was drawn to her sense of adventure, her willingness' to risk what may have looked like an idiotic experiment at a time when she may have been mostly tempted to retire. So how can Ursulines combine their founding charism--tied to Angela Merici--with tradition, sacramentality, and Scripture? The hard part of that question for me has to do with the Ursuline charism. What is it? Education? Virginity? Working with young women? The possible answers sometimes seem as multivalent as the life of the founder and perhaps, like all life forms, reflect some facet of divinity back to God in their par-ticularities. Ursulines together embody the varieties of Ursuline life in a way that highlights the many aspects of Angela that are worth emulating. The bottom line for me is confident innovation. I do not know if that constitutes a "charism," but it seems to me that it could. Seeing what needs to be done and doing it with an embracing charity, while refusing to capitulate to fears about the future, is a rather astounding legacy, as useful today as it was then. Bibliographical Notes Many of the ideas for a feminist reading come from the work I have done over the last decade on women in the Catholic Church. My New Catholic Women: A Contemporary Challenge to Traditional Religious Authority (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1985) is the best state-ment of that interest (see especially chapters 1 and 3). Joan Kelly's Women, History and Theory (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984) is still the best place to start when considering the problems raised by feminist historiography. Because Kelly's work is often set within the context of Renaissance history, her essays were particu-larly useful in interpreting the context for Angela. Also, Carolyn Walker Bynum's books, especially Jesus as Mother: Studies in the Spirituality of the High Middle Ages (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982) are outstanding resources for thinking about the ways late medieval women actually thought and acted in the face of various religious and social changes. To learn about Ursulines, I began with Agnes Repplier's Mbre Marie of the Ursulines: A Study in Adventure (New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1932), which gave me some amusing and provocative insights into Angela and Ursula along with the f~scinating story of M~re Marie herself. I am most indebted, however, to Teresa. Led6chowska's marvelous two- .l~uly-Augus* 1993 501 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns volume critical biography, Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula: According to the Historical Documents (translated from the French by Teresa Nylan and published in Rome: Ancora, 1969). I used this amaz-ing resource to reconstruct the events of Angela's life. The interpre-tation of Angela as "fleeing" from the voice of God and as a "reluctant" founder are my own. I was also instructed by various works of Ursuline historian Irene Mahoney, whose Portraits of Angela (privately printed, 1985) and St. Angela Merici: Foundress of the Ursulines (privately printed, 1985) are excellent books, full of detail and insight. Martha Bucer's Also in Your Midst: Reflections on the Spirituality of St. Angela Merici (Green Bay, Wisconsin: Alt Publishing Co., 1990) was also helpful. Friends provided me with various notes from Ursuline conferences, especially with a very large set of materials from an international conference in Rome in 1991. I read them with great appreciation and have bor-rowed from them here. Other books cited or alluded to in this paper include E.R. Chamberlain, The Bad Popes (New York: New American Library, 1969); Louise Collins, Memoirs of a Medieval Woman: The Life and Times of Margery Kempe (New York: Thomas Crowell, 1964); Dorothy Day, Loaves and Fishes (New York: Curtis Books, 1963); James Hennesey, American Catholicism: A Histo~bv of the Catholic Community in the United States (New York: Oxford University Press, 1981); H.EM. Prescott, Friar Felix at Large: A 15th-Century Pilgrimage to the Holy Land (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1950); William Butler Yeats, "The Second Coming," in The Collected Poems of W.B~ Yeats (New York: Macmillan, 1959); and the Penguin Dictionary of the Saints (London: Penguin Books, 1965). Progeny Imagination gives birth to a new offspring with its own world of wonder. From a procreator's seed comes a poem or a painting, a sonata Or a cathedral. each pulsing with th~ heartbeat of Progenitor-God, Giver of beauty to beauty's ministers anointed with the rite of co-creation. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 502 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I am in a hermitage. It is, again, not what I expected. The brochure made it seem inviting, a way to satisfy the desire of my heart. I wanted a place to be--to just be, be an empty vessel in God's presence. I wanted to symbolize my response to God at this point in my life and to make sure I am open, attentive to any desire or whisper of the Divine. This hermitage looks out on woods that are covered with ten inches of pure white snow. As one walks, there is no sound but the crunch of rubber boots on a would-be path and the rusde of some frozen leaves that still hang on to bare branches like icicles. To be empty before the Beloved is my desire. And so I sit cross-legged on my saffron pillow before a large wooden cross, flanked by two small icons, and a vigil light. At last, I think, desire meets fulfillment in this quiet, undistracted place. But I am distracted; I am cold. I push the thermostat knob on the small gas heater behind me to its highest set-ring. The heater begins to ci'ackle and bang continuously and make little explosive noises every six minutes or so. It robs me of silence. As darkness absorbs the light of day, I get colder and colder. I have already layered myself in all the clothes I brought with me, and I have squeezed my Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ is a psychotherapist and spiritual director. Her address is 2311 Woodbridge Street; Suite 210; St. Paul, Minnesota 55113. prayer 1993 503 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I want God's truth to be straightforward-- no glitches. ice-cold feet with their two pair of socks into my new "Thinsulate" mittens. As my feet flop around on the cold wood floor, I remind myself of Emmett Kelly, the circus clown. It is not quite funny, however. I force myself to persevere for one half hour of quiet prayer, but the clanging radiator, my clanging mind, and my freez-ing body do not lead me to a place of rest. I decide it is time for the bread and cheese, the orange, and the cup of tea that are to be my supper. I watch the night as I eat. Each piece of food, each sip of tea, carries its own taste when one is so concentrated. The orange is succulent and sweet, the cheese substantial and rich, the bread mealy and nourishing, the tea satisfying. I am grateful for each. Fortified, I read the Scripture that lies open as if ready for me. I read Psalm 139 out loud and slowly, wondering as I do so if this is the place God will choose to cast some direct light and move my spirit to new understanding. I want to be awake. If I am supposed to be getting a message, if that is why I am here, I do not want to miss it. Toward the end of the psalm my spirit is thwarted by the words: "Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord?" I cannot say these words; I check my own revised version of the text. It is the same. I close the book, wanting to feel glad that God knit me in my mother's womb, but put off by the dualistic image. This glitch prevents me from totally giving myself to this experience. I want God's truth to be straightforward--no glitches. After wrestling around a litde, I decide to again attempt some contemplative sitting. I drape the blanket around my head, shoul-ders, and feet. I set the timer for thirty minutes and wonder if I should. Perhaps this will be the time when I will just want to linger in God's presence unrestricted. So often when I experi-ence this desire some duty calls me away. This is partly why I am here in this hermitage--so I can linger in the sweet and loving presence of God or be carried beyond my own self-consciousness to a very deep and still place. I do not set the timer. I do not rest. I am very cold. I stay in this prayer position, waiting for the time to be over. I want to be comfortable. I am not. After twenty minutes I give up. I think of going to bed. I am tired and everything has taken too much 504 Review for Religious energy. The outhouse is the least of inconveniences, I think, as I stare blankly toward a small wooden washstand. Eight plastic gal-lon containers of water, icy cold, flank it. They are for washing, cleaning, and drinking. I do not like them. I decide it is too early to go to bed. It is only 6:45. I sit in the rocker, my glasses and I peeking out through the draped blan-kets, and begin to read about "unity." The cynical part of me wonders if Ruusbroec (or Ruysbroeck) could have written or known these things if he were as cold as I am. Another level of me intuits the abiding truth he is trying to articulate. I want to sip his words like fine wine and, like the effect of wine, feel them in all the cells of my body. But the resistance of my body and psyche to the frigid Minnesota weather that is penetrating this north-woods hermitage will not forsake its stance. Although I have only one page left to end the chapter, I do not continue. My heart is moved again by Ruusbroec's words when he writes about Christ's prayer for unity (Jn 17:21-23) and says it is the most loving prayer which Christ ever prayed for our salva-tion. I am touched that Christ was praying, that Christ too was filled with desire. Stay with this, I think; do not read further. I close the book. I go to bed. I am warmer. My mind goes back to Ruusbroec's words. I wonder: Is this the truth I am meant to penetrate? It has not quite caught hold of me deeply enough, I ruminate, but perhaps during the night my enlightenment will come. My mind casts about as my body begins to settle into the comfort of warmth. Perhaps Sharon, the woman running this retreat house, is a mystic who can read my soul and tell me things that God wants me to know. I fall asleep. I dream of Sharon. Morning comes. I hesitate to get up, to begin the ordeal of being cold again. I pray, eat breakfast (I do not have to dress because I am already wearing all my clothes), and go for a walk. The atmo-sphere is frigid; the sky is gray" and overcast. Ithink of leaving early. I do not need bodily hardship, I muse; things have been phys-ically hard enough this past year. I need solace and nurturing. However, I counter this thought by reminding myself that I am old enough in hermitage experiences to know one must let them be what they are, not impose oneself or one's desires on them. Let God be God, I remind myself, and you be an open space. As I reenter the hermitage, I realize I dreamt of Sharon, but can only remember her saying it is about change. I wonder if this 3~uly-A~t 1993 505 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life My time here has taught me how hard it is to contemplate when one is reduced to survival. is significant and a message from God or if it is a matter of my own projections and happenstance. Rather than get caught in this distraction, I reassert the pact I have secretly made with Divine Love and say: "You know my great love for you, you know I desire only you and your will; then, if you want me to move in a certain direction or to know something about you or me, you must let me know it in a way that is not obscure and leaves me free of doubt. I am open to you, but you must remove the obstacles that prevent me from knowing or seeing your will clearly. I am totally dependent on you for this and feel it is not too much to ask of one who is in a relationship of mutual love. In a word, do your stuff and I'll do mine." Inside I sit in the rocker that I have moved as close to the gas heater as possible. I pick up my pen and yellow pad and begin to write: My time here has taught me how hard it is to con-template when one is reduced to survival. Survival sets one's consciousness at the level of basic and immediate, human needs and so occupies it with food, clothing, and shelter that it gives no attention to deeper lev-els of reality. Consequently, these deeper levels of consciousness-- places where intimacy with Divine Being is realized and expressed--are, practically speaking, obliterated. The heinousness of human sin, its death-dealing power, is many-leveled. Starving peoples in Africa and war-torn countries come to mind. I put my pen down and pray: Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison. It is afternoon.I am still cold. In a few hours my time here will be over. I do not want to leave. As I begin to gather my things I think: This hermitage time was neither "lights on" or "lights off," as Ruth Burrows describes moments of the spiritual journey. I console myself with the thought that I came to be an empty ves-sel before God. Before leaving I sit one last time on my saffron pillow to pray. As I do so, I see outside my window a brown oak leaf surrender to a current of air, then glide gently down to the waiting snow. It is sitting there now, very still, ready in due season to become one with the earth. I sit too, quietly waiting, attentive, attuned to Love. ~06 Review for Religious ROBERT MCCOWN Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Or What You Always Wanted to Know About Being a Mystic But Were Afraid to Ask pmeople of the ancient world strove in many ways to com-unicate with whoever they believed to be out there, with whoeveg made the world and somehow controlled their lives and destinies. They offered in sacrifice choice things: grain or wine poured out, sheep or oxen slaughtered then immolated with fire. The smoke, they thought, would rise before the gods with a pleas-ing odor. Th.ey played flutes, used prayer wheels, painted their bodies, stamped their feet, and babbled. They hoped to get the gods' attention, to bring down favors from them. Human nature has not changed with the New Dispensation, nor have the ways men and women try to pray, except these are now purified and made gentle by revelation. Christ invited us to intimacy with his Father, and we respond by lifting our hearts to him: in the Eucharist (above ~11, the true and ultimate sacrifice), in vocal prayer (such as the Rosary), and in private prayer. We address God with words often chosen from the Psalms or given us by Christ himself or by his saints. These same words, as we use them, enrich our hearts and minds with wisdom. Robert McCown SJ has traveled widely in Japan, Thailand, India, and China. He has for the past two years been teaching literature in the University of Hangzhou, on China's eastern coast. His current address is: The Shrine of the Holy Cross; EO. Box 1497; Daphne, Alabama 36526. aTuly-dugust 1993 507 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Zen has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. But there are problems with using words in prayer--even God's words. Over time we tend to multiply them and to load onto them our own intellectual and emotional baggage, allowing our selfishness to co-opt their meaning. So in some prayers we might even want to dispense with words, to use body language only, which can sometimes be for us clearer, deeper, more pow-erful than spoken words. This, I think, is the prayer Christ meant when he said, "When you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret." In such private and largely nonvocal prayer we offer God ourselves in our silent presence, and God responds to us, creatively, in our lives. This kind of prayer goes under a variety of descriptive names: meditation, contem-plation, and mental prayer. There is a long history of it in the church, going back to her earliest years, but it flourished especially in Europe in the fourteenth through the six-teenth centuries with a succession of great spiritual directors. St. Ignatius Loyola taught his followers in his Spiritual Exercises to meditate upon structured concepts and upon chiseled images--both anchored in powerful words--to explore the destructiveness of their sins, to accept forgiveness for them, and then, centering their lives in Christ, to redirect them to God in service of the church. But he reserved a choice place at the end of these Exercises for his largely wordless, though still rich in imagery, Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love. Others led their fol-lowers to shun in their meditations activities of both the intelli-gence and the imagination and, instead, to go beneath these, down to the marrow of the soul, to encounter the Father in that secret "room" they felt Jesus was speaking of. Zen as practiced by Christians is, in many ways, like this lat-ter form of prayer. It is not new, for it has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. Although in recent years Zen has experienced in the West a growth in popularity, many devout people, unfor-tunately, have misconceptions of it, bringing mistrust. 508 Review for Religious Zen masters themselves often give little help in understand-ing their elusive discipline. When one puts questions to them about it, they often smile and remain silent. I believe this is because they see Zen not as a doctrine but as an activity--and thus an experience--so simple and immediate that, when one attempts to conceptualize it, he only obscures it, as when one tries to define the experience of love or of life. But I feel once people see what Zen is not--certainly not a rival to Christian spirituality--they may wish to try to do Zen themselves and thus to experience the extraordinary benefits claimed to derive from it. Let us consider first--lacking a better term--traditional Zen. Rather than enter the question of the historical origins of it, let it suffice to say it has been practiced for more than 1400 years. Concerning the question of its place of origin--whether India, Tibet, China, or Japan--let us concede simply that it developed in the East, probably in a pantheistic culture. But this should not influence Zen's practical value to us as a mode of meditation any more than the lack of faith of a philosopher should keep us from benefiting from his thinking. After all, a key foundation of scholas-tic philosophy and theology is a series of clear concepts St. Thomas found in the writings of the pagan Aristotle that first came to Europe through the works of Islamic thinkers. Of grea~er importance for our purpose are the reasons Zen developed into the form it ultimately took. These we hope we can intuit as we consider the practice of Zen itself; from these, perhaps, we can gain an insight into why Zen has been found by Christian con-templatives of former times and today to be useful in their prayer life. To do Zen one follows a series of seven conventions. So that our efforts remain not an exercise in looking only but translate into a creative experience, let the gentle reader observe successively these conven-tions as we set them forth: 1. Having chosen carefully the place for our meditation--as free as possible from distrac-tions, harsh lights, sounds, and drafts--we assume the Zen position, as shown in the illus-tration on this page. In this position we join our hands and bow from the waist in the tra-ditional oriental gesture of courtesy which here means, "Now I begin my meditation." A July-Aug~wt 1993 509 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation similar bow at the end will mean, "Now I end my meditation." If we must stand to attend to something--best disconnect the tele-phone beforehand--or we have an itch or a cramp we simply can-not ignore, we bow as we break off meditating, then again as we resume it. This puts parentheses around each session of our med-itation, separating it from interruptions coming from us and from our world around us. 2. We try to keep our backs as erect as comfortably possible: the base of the spine is the key. We do not worry if at first it tires quickly. After a couple of weeks of daily meditation, it will surprise us by its new toughness, even during longer sessions of Zen. 3. Our legs should be crossed as well as possible, but com-fortably, making allowances for bad knees and general decrepi-tude. We strive to keep faithful to the time we agree with ourselves to meditate daily. Twenty-minute sessions are good to begin with. As we go longer, circulato .ry pain in our legs can force us to take a break. For this, we bow, stand, join hands before us, pace the room for two minutes; then, taking again the Zen position, we bow, and resume meditating. 4. Our hands and wrists should rest comfortably on the insides of our thighs--left four fingers on top of right four fingers, the fingers underneath press up dynamically against those above, while the tips of the thumbs touch together ever so lighdy and del-icately. Here we aim to combine a relaxed and stable dynamism of our fingers with an alert delicacy in the touch of our thumbs. 5. Our head should be erect, tilted slightly forwar.d comfort-ably, and with chin in. Our tongue should rest relaxed in the base of our mouth, and we avoid all nervous movement of tongue and jaw. Lips should be relaxed and slighdy parted to permit exhaling through the mouth. 6. Our eyes should remain half closed and out of focus. If we close our eyes, we will go to sleep;, if we focus them on anything, that thing will become a distraction. 7. Our breathing should be not from the chest but from the diaphragm. We loosen our belts, allowing our lower abdomen full freedom to expand and contract. We inhale, knowing the air we take in through our nostrils will heal and give peace, and the air we exhale through our mouth will carry out those things that rob us of peace. This breathing is indeed the key to both tradi-tional and Christian Zen because, once we are in observance of these conventions, the conscious listening to the sound of our 510 Review for Religious breathing becomes the central continuous deliberate activity dur-ing the entire time we are meditating. W.e strive to make this breathing more and more regular, more deeply from the diaphragm. We seek to become increasingly absorbed in repose-fully listening to and centering ourselves in its sound. As we descend deeper into this centering, the thoughts, desires, and images that our mind naturally gener-ates will diminish to nil. If some persist, we do not fight against them, but, by continuously renewing this reposeful centering, we ignore them. If they con-tinue aggressively, it is probably because we are not observing certain of the conventions above. Perhaps our hands have slipped away from the position of dynamism and delicacy, or we are permitting nervous activity in our mouth. But most often the reason will be found in our breathing being not from the diaphragm, or our not centering ourselves in its sound. Striving meticulously to maintain these conventions, in spite of the turmoil our daily lives may be subjected to at the time, and striving, as well, to pass the whole period with a mini-mum of surrenders to needs to scratch or to shift our body's mem-bers, make for steady progress over the months, over the years. Indeed this striving for perfection in every detail--in posture and in centering in our breathing--becomes the daily bread and but-ter of Zen meditation. Even the pain we will feel in our legs after thirty or so min-utes of continuous meditation can be turned to our advantage. As this pain grows, we seek to enter it, to center within it, and, as it were, to find in it a certain rest. Thus our concentration upon our breathing will become more complete and more central, and foreign thoughts will be more completely excluded. The above conventions are, curiously, the essentials of Zen as it has developed over the past millefinium. Being in essence non-verbal, nonconceptual, and nonimaginative, Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. To those practicing Zen, it is the experience that matters, whereas the conflicting ways one tries to describe or analyze this experience are to them secondary at best. But for us Westerners, who look for reasons to be persuaded, let us ask what we are doing when we do Zen, and why. Simply stated, following these conventions meticulously permits us a Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. j~ldy-August 1993 511 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation maximum control of both our physical and mental activities, and from this we are able to suspend them partially. Thus, during meditation, the Zen position encompasses and brings under con-trol in appropriate ways every member and organ of our body-- even our heart--which, we will find, will beat slower as we descend deeper into the centering. While consciously listening to the sound of our breathing itself, we can make it more regular, more from the diaphragm, and it will further become the key to controlling and emptying the activities of our mind: memory, intelligence, will, and imagination, including especially emotions. Thus, in doing Zen we strive to make each session of medi-tation both as dynamic and as empty as possible. As far as I know there is no better way than this to disengage our physical and mental powers over an extended period of time while still con-tinuing awake and alert. Anyone attempting to observe self-imposed silence and recollection during a conventional retreat knows how recalcitrant our bodies and our minds are to this kind of discipline. Not even in sleep itself, which we now know is filled with both physical and mental .activity, is there such a diminish-ment of these as there is in Zen meditation. This partial suspension of our bodily and mental activities for a set period of time daily is the objective of Zen, and from this derive its singular benefits. As we strive for this disengage-ment, and achieve it in a growing degree, we are actually induc-ing our physical and mental powers into a daily, deep repose. Not only are each member of our bodies, but also the thoughts of our hearts, put to rest during our meditation: our conflicting values competing for dominance; our desires, inordinate or not; our ambitions and passionate longings; and our memories, both joy-ful and painful, with ruminations of past grievances. Thus we turn over, to our own mysterious powers of healing within us, our bodies, minds, and hearts; and from this daily repose and renewing of the whole person, a peace is given. We speak, of course, of daily meditation-Z-not over weeks, but over months, over years. If we do Zen faithfully, we will become aware of certain gifts that mysteriously enter our lives. We are surprised by new insights that fall out of nowhere into our minds, perhaps not during the time of meditation, but at other times dur-ing the day or night. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own best values, of how to bring to bear our nobler motivations. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own weaknesses, and we 512 Review for Religious see ways which perhaps we did not see before to put to rest inor-dinate desires. We become less afflicted by painful images of griefs or disappointments; and we are less obsessed by regrets, by per-sonal defeats and shames. Even memories of hurts from deep in our childhood, of which we are perhaps only barely aware but which still send poisonous tentacles up into our present relationships, can be uncovered and healed. We are mystified by how our own recuperative powers can now work within us. Just as, for exam-ple, when one morning we awake and realize happily that at last we are he~iled of a drawn-out bout with the flu, so in practicing Zen we might one day realize that now--but not before--we are able to turn with sincere affection toward a friend who has deeply hurt us. In short, what we experience in ourselves is a self-rehabilitat-ing human being, perhaps with long-immobilized personal gifts now renewed. From this, then, our own creative energies can emerge unencumbered, with a new freedom. This healing will often spread to others around us in our family, in our community and work place, even when they are not aware we meditate. As described thus far, traditional Zen is not intrinsically a religious action; it is, thus, neither theistic nor atheistic. Hence the curious smiles coming from Zen masters when one asks if, as practitioners of Zen, they believe in God. Somewhere further on in this direction lies the experience of enlightenment. Zen masters describe enlightenment as a percep-tion totally beyond reason, beyond imagining; intuitive, yet at the core of our life itself. All of Zen teaching, they add, is but an effort to take the disciple beyond concepts and images that stand for reality, and put him or her in intimate contact with that real-ity itself. It is in vain, they maintain, to pursue intellectually this stage, since all ratiocination on this point is useless, futile, and confusing. Thomas Merton calls this "the Zen fact" and com, pares it to an alarm clock. When it goes off, the sleeper 1) does not hear and just keeps on sleeping; or 2) making a misguided response, in effect turns the alarm off, permitting him to go back to sleep; or 3) he jumps out of bed with a shout of astonishment that it is so late. Zen is the alarm clock, it merely enables us to wake up and become aware. It teaches nothing. It points. Merton continues: "But we in the West, in ego-centered practicality and ¯ . . manipulation of everything, always pass from one thing to another, from cause to effect, from the first to the next to the last and then back to the first. Everything always points to something 3~dy-August 1993 513 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation else and hence we never stop anywhere because we cannot; as soon as we pause, the escalator reaches the end of the ride and we have to get off and find another one. Nothing is allowed just to be and to mean itself; everything has to signify something else. Zen is designed to frustrate the mind thinking in such terms. 'The Zen fact,' whatever it may be, always lands across our road like a fallen tree beyond which we cannot pass. Nor are such 'facts' lacking in Christianity--the Cross for example . . . which gives Christians a radically new consciousness." The way some Zen masters describe enlightenment, as an experience of the unity of all being, reflects the monistic, cos-motheistic, philosophical climate of Zen's origins; and it can be disconcerting to a Christian. Yet, if one takes seriously one of the central teachings of Zen itself~namely, that it is the experience and not the concept of it that matters--then one may judge pan-theistic doctrine as the above to be not central to Zen. Indeed such might be for us the "misguidance" that prompts us to turn off the alarm clock, to go back to sleep and miss the experience. The "fact" of Zen is simply the experience that puts us in touch with this ultimate personal reality itself, and that, I believe, must at last come down to be our own individual living soul--the con-crete reality, not a concept of it. We cannot think our way to our soul's living presence, or analyze or visualize it; but in doing Zen we are brought to the experience .of the soul's availing itself of space to renew itself, and then of its mysterious healing powers in renewing our body, mind, and heart. Being in Zen an apprentice of only some twenty-five years, a full-blown experience of enlightenment, with 'its sudden flash of intuition, is still unknown to me. Nor do I seek it as such; as Christian, I try to keep my heart open to whatever grace the Lord sends and to whatever form he wants it to take. But before we dismiss Zen and turn off the alarm clock, I suggest we take seriously stated opinions of respected specialists, not only of such as Thomas Merton or Dom Aelred Graham, but also of Dr. John C. H, Wu, an eminent jurist and diplomat, a Chinese convert to Catholicism, and a scholar, who is able to write of Zen not from hearsay or study alone, but from within. He is not afraid to write that he brought Zen and Confucianism with him into Christianity. Looking further back, I have been assured by Carmelites who are specialists in both their tradition of con-templation and in Christian Zen that these two traditions are 514 Review for Religious essentially the same: what Teresa of Avila, in her own inimitable way, and what John of the Cross--and what Meister Eckhart 200 years before them--practiced, perhaps unknown to them, was essentially Christian Zen. But what is Christian Zen, which we will now call centering prayer, and how is it prayer if traditional Zen is not? Will an attempt to use Zen in prayer, contrary to what Zen masters main-rain-- that one cannot accommodate true Zen to any ulterior pur-pose- render it ineffectual? To answer, let me offer an analogy. Consider a ballet apprentice who works daily on her technique. She may give little thought to what ballet grammar--the body language she is learning--might be saying or to whom; she metic-ulously strives only to perfect every move, every step of it. For the present, the immediate benefits of her efforts--pride in pleasing a respected teacher, satisfaction in mastering an art--are suffi-cient reasons for striving for self-discipline; and she grows daily in poise and beauty. But one day a certain impresario discovers her and offers her a part in a new production. Now she has two things she lacked before: a role, a dramatispersona to live within, and an envisioned audience. These give form and finality to her efforts. Just as this ballerina can adapt her previously acquired skills to this new orientation, so also, as many Christian contemplatives have found, the skills and the strengths of traditional Zen, with little change in its dynamics, can be fitted into the larger synthesis of Christian prayer. Neither our ballerina above, nor a person doing Zen medi-tations daily, acts without a certain basic desire, or even a pas-sion, which drives their actions, enabling them to keep a daily commitment. One must first wish to do what is necessary to become, to be--whether in ballet, in Zen, or in Christian prayer. Satisfaction found therein will, in turn, sustain and nourish the motivation. When the prophet Samuel was a small boy sleeping in the temple, he was awakened repeatedly by a voice calling, "Samuel, Samuel!" Each time he got up and went to his master, the elderly priest Eli, and asked what he wanted. Each time Eli replied, "I didn't call, my son; go and lie down again." Again Samuel heard the voice calling, and again he went to the old priest. But this time Eli, perceiving it was thd Lord calling, instructed him, "The next time he calls, you must respond, 'Speak, Lord, for your ser-vant is listening.'" Whether that night Samuel really heard the 3~uly-August 1993 515 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation voice of God, or whether he heard only, as he had many times before, the wind blowing through the porticos of the temple, his listening and then giving response is the same. It is the reality from which the call came that makes the difference between an obedient child and the prophet-to-be. We must listen continu-ously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. If we find traditional Zen apt for putting us in contact with the healing and peace-giving powers of our human spirit within, how much more will we find centering prayer apt for opening our beings to the Spirit of God within us, to surrendering ourselves to this Healer, this Comforter? It will be this Spirit's voice we listen for within the sound of our breathing, as she leads us into that silence within, where, using utterances beyond human words, with ineffable groaning, she cries, "Abba, Father!" Far from taking from Zen its dignity, thi~ carries it to its fulfillment. What a grace it is that Christian contemplatives discovered Zen and were able to enrich Christian asdeticism with it. The Christ-centered dynamics of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, especially when renewed yearly, give peace and build motivations to service, but they were not meant to be used daily over a long period of time when they can become exhausting. Centering prayer, on the other hand, not in contrast to the Exercises but ancillary to them, offers spiritual repose. Many of Ignatius's instructions can be applied with profit to Zen.medita-tion: making preparation before meditation by spiritual reading and acts of self-denial; cultivating honesty and sincerity in eval-uating our efforts at praying; making from time to time reviews of moments of joy or of sadness; and, with the retreat master's help, using carefully Ignatius's instructions on the discernment of spirits. In sessions of centering prayer, unlike in other forms of med-itation, one does not pray the words of any pious text, nor even of Holy Scripture. Words, whether we want them to or not, will bloom into images, and images invite concepts which multiply, and thus we are on the way to taking our bodies and minds out of that total surrender to the Spirit, the true mode of centering prayer. Rather, we should see each session of this prayer as that time when the Bridegroom is present before us, looking into our eyes, speaking into our hearts, so we put aside during this qual-ity time his love-letters from times past, no matter how treasured 516 Review for Religious they are. With no more than a bow of adoration and a word to greet him by name, such as, "Jesus, have mercy on me, a sinner," we surrender ourselves with total passivity to his Spirit within us, who will shape our minds and hearts according to his holy will. In this action of the Spirit, one is reminded of a great, silent, mov-ing body of water, imperceptibly and with ease, carrying all obstacles before it. We will look forward to this daily prayer as the best moment of our day, and find in it an anchor for the rest of our lives. Let me mention now one special blessing I have received through centering prayer. When I was a very small child, I once heard my older brothers, one six, the other seven years old, talking about how hell is "for ever and ever--for eternity, which never, ever ends." My mind became beset with fearful images of this eternity, like "the void of infin-ity" that so terrified Pascal. These were most acute when I was ill, which I often was, with high fever, and with accompanying nightmares. During these I often dreamed I was looking up and saw the ceiling above me (and all reality with it) recede up and up and up, for ever and ever. My sight was forced to go with it, on and on, and I could never, ever make it stop; and that was eternity. And I felt desperately alone and forsaken. I could not turn off the nightmare, until my screams brought my father or mother who would awake me and comfort me. This terror remained with me even into later life. When I discovered Zen meditation, which then became for me centering prayer, I took up the custom, after meditating and during the brief prickly feeling as my legs recovered circulation, of lying back on the rug and looking straight up at the ceiling, never forgetting that this was the way I had so fearfully felt I was look-ing into the face of eternity. But over the years, gradually, imper-ceptibly, the terror departed. In its place has grown a trust in God's mercy and, even, flashes--ever so brief and fleeting--of joy in looking forward to my death, which now is approaching apace. These graces I consider among the most precious of my life. Remembering how the ancients strove to get the gods' atten-tion, we know we have already the Father's attention in his son, Jesus, who taught us to pray to his father by offering, not per- We must listen continuously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. 3~ly-Aug'ust 1993 517 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation ishable gifts of animals slaughtered or wine or grain poured out, but one infinitely more desirable: our total selves. This same Jesus promised, moreover, "whatever you ask the Father in my name, he will give it to you." Jesus must have meant precisely that, unless we ask for something that is not good for us, then he will give us something else--something far better for us. Centering prayer, as an ancilla to the Spiritual Exercises, more than any other prayer method I know, enables us to put ourselves into this total trust-ing frame of mind, not stating what we think we want, or need, or when, but silently taking Jesus at his word and waiting. The Father, who knows our needs far better than we do, will respond; and why wouldn't he, since Jesus said he would? Night Prayer The saints have left for the day, their stained-glass coves Are dark. The night, that deep iconoclast, Obscures the panes with his breath, as a prayer revolves Inside me, calling to the blackened east. I close my eyes and linger there, in the glow Of a bleak and fallen image of the outcast world, And wander through remembered brambles that grow Where squandered immortalities should. When young I crossed an ocean. Nearing land Candescent seeds arose from the water's rim As if sown in the sky by a hopeful, graceful hand To mingle with a tide of stars, to bloom unseen. From the altar candles' final gasp of light Two tendrils of smoke vanish into night. Kevin McCaffrey OP 518 Revie~v for Religious MARY CORONA God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Iyhad been living and working in Amman, Jordan, for eight ears when in 1989 I began reading The Journeying Self, by Diarmuid McGann. Becoming deeply involved with it, I came across these words: "The journey of faith begins at the Lord's invitation. He finds us in our places of marginal existence, where we hunger for liberation." I did not go further than that for sev-eral months, but those lines I read over and over again. I could wrest no personal meaning from them, and yet somehow they riveted me. At the same time I was picking my way through a book by Karl Rahner. Being no scholar, "picking" is how I cope with Rahner, and yet I am hugely attracted by him. Of the many sentences I jotted down knowing that I would return to them, here are a few: In contemplation the pray-er is intent on hearing an utter-ance of God never given before . We need the courage to believe that God will say some-thing permanent. It will happen when God is ready. God places me in complete freedom. He deals with me leaving intact my autonomy and self-direction. God is Love and in the face of that--I decide. There were many more, and while I went about my life in community and my teaching duties, these thoughts floated in and out of my mind whenever my interior screen was empty, setting up such a longing that I knew I would need to respond sooner or later. Mary Corona FMDM lives at 6, St. Anthony's Road; Forest Gate; London E7 9QA; England. .~uly-Auguxt 1993 519 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed Remote PreparationmI Go to Anjara The time to plan my annual retreat came round. I thought of Jerusalem, where I had made retreats before, but I had little heart for going there because of the heavy military presence at the time. Though Jordan itself has no retreat facilities, I knew that Father Joseph Na'maat, a diocesan priest in the north of Jordan, had spare rooms in a separate building which anyone was welcome to use on a self-catering basis. He said if I came during July I would have the entire building to myself. With typical Jordanian courtesy he also told me that his house and his table would be mine anytime I felt lonely. Josephine, his housekeeper, would, he assured me, keep an eye on things and make sure I was all right. The fee was so small it was a joke. So eight days on my own loomed. How would I work it out? I went along the shelves of our library and found Rahner's Eight Day Retreat and a paperback copy of the Ignatian Exercises. From my room I picked up my Bible and missal and that was all. I think the journey of faith McGann discusses began for me that day. I felt quite naked going off with what seemed so little in the way of resources. Anjara is a village in the northern Jordanian countryside. Feeling at home in the Arab world and having enough Arabic to do my own shopping, talk with people, and get by generally, I had no fears along those lines. On my arrival I was given a warm welcome by Father Joseph and the redoubtable Josephine. Then, after being shown "my" building and handed the keys, I heard the oft-repeated words "If it gets too lonely, you know where we are!" That first evening I worked out a program for the eight days, allotting time for the breviary, rosary, and Scripture reading. I then marked out three separate hours daily for prayer, leaving time for rest and recreation which, during the eight days, would take the form of walks, sitting on the roof in the sun absorbing the view, and wandering in my host's extensive orchard followed by his floppy old dog. Knowing nothing previously about the Exercises, I soon aban-doned the paperback because it made no sense to me.I stuck to the Bible and the missal and continued to read over the sentences from McGann and Rahner which had so affected me. For the full eight days I spoke to no one, except the dog. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over 520 Review for Religious for the day. Through the grace of God, I remained faithful to all to which I had committed myself. On my final evening Josephine came to bring me over to sup-per and, like the hedgerow and byways folk of the gospel, I was compelled to attend. If you have never experienced an Arab sup-per or indeed Arab hospitality, you have missed one of life's love-lier moments. We sat on the verandah eating, talking, and--I must admit--drinking slightly too much of Father Joseph's homemade wine. The sun slowly sank behind the brown hills. Lamps were lit, creating a soft pool of light in the velvet darkness, and the night insects began their con-cert. We sat on. Eventually, however, and with real reluctance I rose, to a duet from Father Joseph and Josephine of "So soon?" I went to bed that night heavy with good food and wine and quite drunk--no, not from wine, but from the heady smell of honeysuckle and jasmine coupled with the heart-swell that comes from having spent a long summer evening with friends. The following day I returned to Amman knowing that I must do the long retreat. This is where the invitation mentioned by McGann and previously so dimly perceived was pointing. What a Franciscan was doing being so convinced that a Jesuit approach to life and prayer was the right one, I cannot say. But convinced I was. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over for the day. To Wales I set about obtaining permissions for the following year and began to look for a place. Almost everyone I spoke to suggested looking for a Jesuit-run center, saying this w6uld be right for what I had in mind. But I prefer retreat houses run by women: they are cozier, and I like my creature comforts. After a few blanks I got a positive answer from a small guest-cum-retreat house, Coleg y Groes, in North Wales. Yes, they could take me. Yes, one of them could direct me. Yes, they were in the heart of the coun-try, and to all my other questions yes . . . yes . . . yes. I booked, hesitant to share with some of my more conservative friends that all was not as they might expect. I would be alone without the support of a group; I would be directed by a deacon, not a priest; 3~uly-Aug~tst 199.t 521 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed worse still, an Anglican deacon; worse again, a woman Anglican deacon! What would Ignatius have said? In August 1990 I returned to England, and in July 1991 I traveled to Wales. Arriving in time for supper, I found the small 18th-century house nestled behind the Anglican parish church in the village of Corwen. My room was very nice, with the promise of quiet. My quick eye noticed the electric kettle, tea bags, and coffee. It all augured well. I began to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then eeing the signs going wrong. I Meet My Directress Margaret, who was to direct me, suggested I join the other guests for supper that first evening; after that I would dine alone. Supper was served in a delightful low-beamed room with a huge fireplace cut from Welsh stone. Flowers were in the deeply set window alcoves, and the whole place exuded security and good living. I began, however, to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then seeing the signs going wrong. To my Roman mind the conversation became so Anglican, cen-tered on the ordination of women. Most of the women present, and indeed Margaret her-self, were ordained deacons. It was the last thing I wanted to get involved in. Intermingled with that were fairly long dis-sertations on the three resident cats. I drained my coffee cup as I tried to quell the rising panic within me. Relief came when Margaret suggested we go to my room for a first talk. In five minutes my fears evaporated. I knew instinctively that in her I was on to a winner. That night I slept well, waking totally refreshed. I made coffee, and one glance at the Welsh weather put me into warm trousers and a thick sweater. In the still sleeping village I found the small Catholic church. Inside, in a back pew, was a very still figure. I knelt down near the door, ready to escape if this man were not the sort I ought to seek out for company. After some minutes he looked up and said "Welcome." This was Father Joseph (I seemed destined to be mixed up with Josephs and 522 Revie'w for Religious Josephines). In answer to my question he said that so seldom did anyone come for daily Mass that we could arrange it any time suited to the two of us. Father became a true friend to me during my thirty days. He watched over me with such care and was always available for counsel or confession. That first morning he arranged for me to have a key to the church so that I could come and go at will. He knew Margaret and felt I was safe in her hands. The Thirty Days Begin And so the routine for the thirty days began. Margaret sug-gested that for the first three days I just browse over my own favorite passages of Scripture, go for walks, and take on an atmo-sphere of quiet. That first morning I took my Bible and went out. I sat overlooking a sweeping green valley and read slowly through some of my favorites: "Widen the spaces of your tent." (Is 55:2); "Behold the Bridegroom is coming." (Mt 25:7); "May He give you the power., to grow strong . " (Ep 3:16-21). And through it all I wondered just what I was doing, alone in Wales, on the threshold of this experience. Those first three days went in very gently. Sleep, walks, quiet reading, and three one-hour prayer periods a day. The kettle, tea, and coffee played their part. On the fourth day we started in earnest into the pattern of the retreat. We moved into four one hour periods of prayer a day. Each "day" would begin at 5 p.m. The four "weeks" were to be flexible as regards length. Margaret spent considerable time giving me the background to the Exercises. As she spoke, words from Robert Gleeson's intro-duction to Anthony Mottola's translation of the Exercises came back to me: "Ignatius intended to stay in Manresa for a few days. These days stretched into ten months with results that are still reverberating around the world." Yes, I thought, even to Corwen. Something of Margaret's own love for Ignatius overflowed into me. Here was no mere competent guide, but rather one who was imbued with the spirit of Ignatius. I felt very secure, but real-ized Margaret was no soft touch as she explained the conditions: no reading, other than that prescribed; no music, news, corre-spondence, conversation, and so forth. She spoke of the neces-sity of being utterly faithful to the full one-hour prayer periods, and she warned me off interior conversation which could easily become the little foxes destroying the vineyard. When she had July-Auffust 1993 523 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed finished, my snug feeling of security had drastically slipped, to he replaced by a sense of vulnerable nakedness. Thus stripped I entered the first "week" of the retreat. The First Week (Seven Days) Sin, in its hideousness, was the focus of this first week. Powerful meditations on words previously heard but never fully absorbed came back to influence my prayer. The First Principle and Foundation offered at the beginning of this week presented such a challenge thai it almost unseated me. Could I, in complete sincerity, make such a prayer? Part of my background reading said, "This law which I enjoin on you this day is not beyond your strength" (Dr 30:11-14). These words stood, like a kind mother, beside the demands of the First Principle and Foundation, urging me to compliance. Yet I hesitated. I moved on into the sin of Adam and Eve; the Angels; the Prodigal Son--all meditated on against a background of Philippians 2:1-11, Baruch 1:13-22 and 63, and Ephesians 1:13- 14 and all deepening in me an appreciation of the heinousness of sin. Karl Rahner says (I quote from memory), "I need to see sin, not so much as an offence against God, but rather as a rebuff against Jesus personally," and "I see him wasting there on the cross--for us--and ~eeing him in such plight, I make my deci-sion." It is difficult to take a detached view of sin with words like that running round one's mind. As the first week was coming to a close, the next commit-ment point was drawing near, the Kingdom meditation with its inbuilt self-offering; and yet I had still not made the First Principle and Foundation my own. I felt discouraged. If I could not per-sonalize the sentiments of the First Principle and Foundation, was there any point in going on? I told Margaret of my difficulty. She suggested rewriting it in language I would feel at home with. And that proved to be the answer. It was the stiff, masculine lan-guage that was getting in the way. After rewriting it in my own words, I could accept what Deuteronomy had been trying to tell me. On the seventh evening Margaret said that tomorrow would be a repose day. She explained what this meant: one prayer period this evening, a good night's sleep, then, after morning Mass, out for the day; on my return in the evening, one more prayer period 524 Review for Religious before she came to see me. She gave me a few ideas as to where I could go. I chose Llangollen: it seemed a place where I could continue to be quiet while doing something different. The Kingdom Meditation-- and Some Sort of Disturbance The meditation given me for the eve of the repose day was the Kingdom, so after supper, and with my inner eye on my day out, I settled down to this period of reflective prayer--and it all went wrong. The whole hour tumbled around in a confusion of despon-dency and misery. I saw myself as a hypocrite and a fool and felt sick with disappointment and embar-rassment. I was not being called as Rahner sug-gested; this was all totally beyond me regardless of Deuteronomy; there was nothing here for me. Some of us are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. Illusion would get me nowhere, and get-ting nowhere was costing a lot of money and time. Leaving my room, I went out into the garden. The moon was riding high, swiftly brushing aside the small clouds which, busy about their own affairs, were trotting along in the opposite direc-tion. Shadows flitted about the garden, and some-where nearby an owl hooted. Further away a dog was barking, but it soon trailed off into a lazy yawn--his heart just was not in it. And here, under the canopy of deep sky, my thought slowly came together and clarified; I began to see what was going on. I returned to my room and found my crucifix and holding it firmly commanded, in the name and power of the crucified and resur-rected Christ, everything not of God to depart. I repeated the command twice. The result: "The storm abated and there was a great calm" (Mk 4:39). Without further ado I made my Kingdom offering as given by Ignatius, went to bed, and slept. Some of US are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. The First Repose Day A glorious day of sunshine and Welsh mountains. A ride on the Railway Enthusiasts' railway from Llangollen along the moun-tainside to Deeside Halt; a leisurely walk by the canal where later I sat and ate my sandwiches while watching boys--up to the age ~uly-Aug'ust 1993 525 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed of forty plus--playing with their boats. Full of fresh air and peace, I returned to Corwen on an early evening bus. Each turn in the road presented a different scene to delight the heart, and I found myself silently singing the word of St. Francis's Canticle of the Sun: "All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made., and first for Brother Sun. how beautiful he is! How radiant!., and Brothers Wind and Air. and all the weathers' moods . " It seemed so appropriate. (Something I discovered during these thirty days was that Francis and Ignatius have much in common.) After supper Margaret came, and I told her of the previous night's upset. She said it was to be expected and then referred me to the description of discernment of spirits in the Exercises, where it was all clearly set out. The important thing, she said, was that I had made the Kingdom offering. Much was gained and nothing at all lost. The Second Week (Eleven Days) And so into the second week. I traveled far in that week. Journeying with Jesus through his life in the given meditations, I became aware of another journey I was making, toward a deeper commitment--and yet my previous fear of.fidl commitment reared up again and again. The demand was too clear, too total, too final. There was no space for maneuver. I stalled badly and frequently during that week. Margaret advised me to use the First Principle and Foundation offering and also the Kingdom offering as ways into the given meditations. She also gave me some salutary advice: "Don't try to give today what properly belongs to tomorrow." "The grace for the future is not yet being offered." I remembered similar advice given me in the past. As a young sister I had made a group retreat under a Carmelite friar. In one of his talks he said that many people fail to advance because they quail before what they fear may be asked of them if they say an unreserved yes. They forget that God is totally to be trusted and would never take unfair advantage of a generous yes. A superior, at a later date, took up the same theme with me (it seems I have had this lack-of-trust problem forever!) and said: "The Lord is total courtesy. He doesn't grab. He looks at what you have and asks 'May I take this?' If you refuse, he will not insist--for the time being any-way." Urn--for the time being. 526 Review for Religious The Two Standards and the Three Classes of Men These meditations caused the same problem that the First Principle and Foundation and the Kingdom had caused; as I saw it, all called for total and irrevocable commitment. Again I had to remind myself of what Margaret had said and what the Carmelite friar and my own superior had said when I was just knee high in my religious life. I spent long hours beg-ging the grace of trust. I tried to reset my focus and not waste precious time looking at abstract problems and missing the grace of reality. I turned to St. Francis at this stage and found his presence a great comfort. On the twentieth day, after lots of struggle but also tremendous peaks of joy and achievement, Margaret suggested I spend one day drawing the experience of the entire two weeks together and then summarize it in a truth-ful prayer of offering. As I set about doing this, I found it amaz-ing how I could look back along the road I had traveled and see so clearly the efforts, frustrations, joys, hopes, gains, losses, and desires and the loneliness and--running in and out of it all like a flame in dry grass--the'fear. And yet ~omehow it all came together with a marvelous coherence: everything fitted. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. I had definitely moved. I had moved light years from where I had been two weeks previously. For better or for worse, I had moved. The agonizing lack of trust, the fears, the anxieties were all part of this pattern of walking. The Lord had supplied where I had been weak. Together we had made it through these two weeks. He had blessed me beyond all imagining and had accepted my desire as though it were something of substance. I was content. On the twenty-second day, a repose day, I went to Ruthin and presume I had a relaxed day, but I have no memory of it. Without the brief note in my journal saying I had been there, I would not know I had. What that says about me I have no idea. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. The Third Week (Five Days) Margaret moved me into the last earthly days of Jesus. Over the next days, spread over five one-hour meditation periods, which j~¢O-dugust1993 527 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed included a midnight hour, I contemplated the Lord at the Last Supper, Gethsemane, and Calvary and right through to the postresurrecfion period. Having visited the Holy Land many times while living in the Middle East, I found it very easy to situate these meditations, but somehow the depths eluded me. On the twenty-fourth day Margaret suggested that I spend four of my five one-hour prayer periods reading through the four different accounts of the Passion. Anyone who has done this in one day will know it does not come easy. Physically it is draining to read something of that nature and length with concentration. By the evening it had quite taken me over, and after supper I went for a long walk, but somehow I could not shake off (was I even meant to?) the felt heaviness of trudging the Calvary road four times. Another Disturbance It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. During the night I woke in the grip of a strange tension, feel-ing physically cold and frightened. I have never been especially brave, but I am not given to irrational fear, and this sense of men-ace was wholly irrational; yet it made me feel that, if I did not give up this retreat, it would break me. For several minutes I did nothing beyond switching on the light and allowing the fear to swamp me. Fear of what? I could put no name to it. Then I remembered Margaret's words, based on those of Ignatius: "It is common for the evil spirit to cause sad-ness, fear, discouragement, and acute anxiety and to place all sorts of obstacles in the way of right reason. The good spirit gives courage, strength, inspiration, light, and peace so that right reason will prevail. Learn to distin-guish." Once again I reached for my crucifix and holy water and followed my previous routine. All returned to normal, but it took some time. The twenty-sixth day I spent quietly looking back over the entire Passion. It proved to be a very hard day. It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. On the twenty-seventh day, another repose day, I went to Lake Bala. It was a beautiful day, but too hot. Tourists and pic-nickers were all over the place--not helpful. I found the Catholic 528 Review for Religious church, a small converted stable. It was very peaceful, and I stayed quietly there for some time before boarding the bus for the ride home through heart-lifting scenery. The Fourth Week--Coming to the End I was now coming to the end of this whole experience, and Margaret suggested moving back from five to four periods of prayer, 6mitring the night one. She also brought me a tape recorder and some classical-music tapes. Winning some grand prize could not have brought me more joy. I was ecstatic. On the twenty-eighth day I meditated on John 20:11-18, Mary Magdalen's encounter with Jesus in the garden, with Isaiah 30:18- 26 and 35:1-10 as background. I also used Luke 24:13-35, the Emmaus story, with Psalm 62 as background. I became quite filled with the quiet. Jesus' sufferings were over. His pain was finished. I was able to walk calmly in the garden with Mary Magdalen--you see, I knew the answer to her question. The Emmaus road also was peaceful. Again I had the advantage: I knew who he was. All this was leading me quite naturally into the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love. From the twenty-ninth day onward I used this con-templation for one period each day, the other three periods cov-ering postresurrection Scripture. I continued my daily walks in the serene countryside, which for me became Galilee, where Jesus said he wo~ld meet his friends again and where I myself have walked many times. A Final Disturbance One meditation, on the thirtieth day, was given over to the events that include Jesus cooking breakfast for his hungry disci-ples. As I moved further into the scene, it all changed and became blasphemous; but I did not recognize it as such. My discerning powers were, it seemed, in suspension. During Mass the follow-ing morning I became aware that something had been very wrong with that meditation. I looked back at it and saw immediately the gross irreverence of the scenes which had been presented to my view. I was aghast and marveled that I had not realized at the time what was going on. I went hotfoot to Father Joseph after Mass and poured out my sorry story. He took it all very calmly--as con-fessors are apt to do--and explained how the devil will use every July-August 1993 529 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed possible means to stop a person pursuing a course that has as its aim a closer union with God. Margaret, of course, said the same thing. The experience left me with a profound disgust of the one who works such evil things. The Final Days The thirty-first and final day arrived. I drew together the ele-ments of the four key meditations--the Kingdom, the Two Standards, the Three Classes of Men, the Three Modes of Humility. I then moved them into a prayer of offering that I tried to make utterly truthful and realistic for me. Later that day I had a final few words with Father Joseph and returned the keys of the church. Back at the house I had a last talk with Margaret and my retreat was over. The following day I left Corwen and--via Wrexham, Chester, Crewe, Euston, and Plaistow, changing train or bus at each one--I arrived home in London. Eighteen Months Later Days have built on days, and a year and a half has passed since my long retreat. By now it should have gone the way of all the others. It has not done so. Father Joseph's words during our final talk, "You will never be the same again, this experience has changed you," have stayed with me; I know them to be true. That retreat has changed many things. It has set sin in its right context, one which makes scant distinction between small and big offenses. It has cleared away any number of secondary purposes and under-lined the one purpose for which I was born. It has filled my store-rooms with kindling, that I may not perish when my winter fires burn low. It has increased my recovery rate, so that sin and repen-tance are almost simultaneous. It has brought a staying power I never thought to possess; a strength to stay with prayer even when, apparently, there is nothing in it to stay for. It has brought an acceptance that I am as I am and, as far as performance goes, the future will not be much different; progress will still be wob-bly, with backward steps, with fears and sin. But this acceptance of my situation has brought a new dependence; I know I will make it through to the end if I cling like a limpet to Christ. There is, quite simply, no other way. 530 ' Re~ie~ for Religious The Human Face of God But overriding and underpinning all this is the greatest change of all. I am aware that, through all the contemplations of that month, even those during which I was distracted, irritated, fidgety, or just plain bored, God was working. He was working as one whose work it is to take an old manuscript, mosaic, or fresco and restore it to its original beauty; he was etching and bringing into relief, for me personally, the lines of his own human face. I can no longer think of God without, at the same time, seeing Christ; I see him, in some small measure, as Francis of Assisi saw him in great, in the people, however seemingly insignificant, and in the events, however trivial, that form th~ fabric of my everyday life. This new vision is the greatest grace to accompany me into these, the afterdays. The word "Wales" will never again mean for me just a geo-graphical place, hut rather will set a pause for remembering: remembering that revelation did not end with the Apocalypse; remembering how God revealed his face to me in Wales; remem-bering how something of beauty was planted within me and has, in spite of me, continued to grow. My life has become perma-nently divided into "before Wales" and "after Wales." And it all started way back in Jordan, where I "hungered for liberation" and knew myself "intent on hearing an utterance of God never given before" (in the words of McGann and Rahner) and felt strongly impelled, Franciscan and all that I am, to take up the invitation to an Ignatian experience. That, and so much more, is what my long retreat was all about. Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distri-bution, advertising, or institutional promotion or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will be consid-ered only on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. July-August 1993 531 TAD DUNNE What Trouble Is spiritual life Most of us, at some lull in the cacophony of life, think to ourselves, "I really should be a person who . " And we take some stand on avoiding trouble. Of course, trouble wears many hats. There is the regular trouble of having to learn through our mistakes. There is our unwitting igno-rance of the times when our behavior makes others roll their eyes. Or maybe the trouble is our own doing, like the lies we lay on others and the follow-up work we lay on ourselves just to keep our stories straight. Or like the legacy of emotional trouble callous parents bequeath to their children that continues long after they have died and the children have grown up. The stand we take to avoid trouble is usually rather elemental. We hope a simple strategy can meet every kind of trouble coming our way. Not that we succeed. Indeed, the reason we do not succeed may well be that the way we defined our troubles was a big mistake. This is why, for many of us, our images of God are shaped less by our experience of divine help or by the Scriptures and more by how we conceptualized our getting into trouble in the first place. When people describe their spiritual journeys to me, they usually divide the chapters according to this or that difficulty from which God delivered them, but the difficulties were defined very often by simple earthly sym-bols, not by any measures drawn from revelation. Tad Dunne writes on contemporary spirituality. His address is 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. 532 Review for Religious We get most of the symbols of our troubles from the drama of everyday life--a vacillating boss, a domineering spouse, hard work with no reward, bad weather, and so on. But where people draw the line on what is unacceptable to them will vary nation to nation, old to young, woman to man, race to race. So, before we assume that our view of trouble is totally objective, we need to look instead at the experiences of trouble common to everyone. Then we can look at what the gospel says about trouble and make comparisons about what we have observed. Our universally common experiences of trouble lie not in the dramatic but in the practical patterns in our experiences--expe-riences like carrying burdens, feeling slowed down, running into roadblocks, taking chances and missing, setting schedules and failing to meet them, planting seeds that produce puny fruit, arranging our surroundings carefully and finding that the sur-roundings have trapped us. Everyone, in any culture, grows up with these practical troubles and looks for ways to overcome them. The Example of Physics For the sake of talking about these analogs of our miseries, it will help to classify them. One simple way follows the example of physics. In physics we expect events to occur either in a natural relationship to other events or just coincidentally. While physicists talk about the naturally related events by using terms like elec-tromagnetism, gravity, or inertia, children simply notice that when A happens, then B usually happens. Behind the merely coinci-dental events lie no laws at all, so physicists talk about probabil-ities and norms while ordinary people talk about taking chances and seizing once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Each of these two kinds of expectations, of regularity and of chance, gets frustrated in its own way. Regularity is frustrated when a routine is broken or a law is not followed. Chance is frus-trated when overcontrol eliminates the lucky chance or when exceptions to the rule are somehow ruled out of court. But each kind excludes the other, and so, pressured as we ar.e by this intrin-sic antinomy to Choose only one as our fundamental code for translating experience into meaning, some of us worship a God of Law and others a God of Freedom. The Broken Routine. The God of Law is incarnated in our ear- 3~uly-August 1993 533 Dunne ¯ What Trouble Is God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. liest teacher of regularity: the sun. It gives us as children a sym-bol of what it means to be faithful, kindly, and dependable. We learn at an early age what our race took eons to formulate in a principle: that bodies in motion keep going and bodies at rest stay where they are. If only people could be that orderly! So we experience the trouble of broken routine. Things are going smoothly and something interrupts. Interruptions and contradictions are our enemies, though we can never fully avoid them. Better calm down and do what God expects and all shall be well. Pity those who live in chaos, who seem never to settle down, who spend their lives searching for they know not what. They could well learn a lesson from nature that life lies in regu-larity and dependability. This elemental experience of day alter-nating with night has a remarkable influence on the loftiest and most religious levels of our psyches. We imagine the kingdom of God as a smooth meshing of generation upon generation of peo-ple, as if the oiling of divine grace was meant to eliminate all fric-tion between people. God is an implacable and consistent Trinity, a perfect community, an example which every human family and nation is called to imitate as far as possible. God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. Life is essentially a struggle of law and order over anarchy and extreme independence. OvercontroL The second kind of trouble is practically the oppo-site of the first. As the first kind loves controls, the second hates them. At some time in our growing up, when we discover that we have taken too many of our parents' controls to heart, we start to wriggle free of them. We take a chance. When governments lay such heavy controls on people that hardly anything is left to chance, we condemn them. The worst kind of control, of course, is self-imposed--when I make more resolutions than I could pos-sibly keep or when I forbid myself to ever try anything daring or maturing. Trouble is anything that impedes probabilities. These elemental experiences tell us that God is a God of free-dom, calling us to a radical trust in all we do. The voice is per- 534 Review for Religious vasive: Let go of trying to control everything and everyone; you are ruining yourself in the process and will never succeed in any case. God will never lay a load on your back without also giving you a strohg back with which to carry it. "Look at the birds of the air . " Human planning is largely a waste of time. The goals of our endeavors so seldom match their outcomes that it is a won-der we keep on setting goals. God will intervene at the oppor-tune moment; divinity cannot be pinned down to laws and predictability. And so on. The Example of Biology Notice how these first two kinds of order and trouble are dis-tinguished by whether or not individual events are either part of some repeating cycle or the result of mere chance. We can also look at sequences of events or stages in something undergoing development. Again, to keep this simple, we can distinguish two fundamental kinds of development, those driven by a single law or principle and those driven by forces only coincidentally related to each other. The single-law kind can be illustrated by seeds. Tulip bulbs develop tulips, not dandelions, and, within quite narrow ranges of development, tulips everywhere look alike. Multiple-principle development can be represented by human relation-ships. People's values differ from each other across the face of the earth far more than tulips do. The reason is that the genetic coding in the fertilized egg that each of us once was does not confine the range of our potential development anywhere near as tightly as the tulip's coding does. Growing up, we continually "recode" ourselves by our choices. By interacting with others we develop in dialectical fashion, making something unrepeatable of both ourselves and our surroundings. If both the genetic (single-law) and the dialectical (multiple-principle) kinds of development are elemental,-then we can expect them to precondition what we mean by trouble and, by exten-sion, what we mean by God's saving grace. Again, the dichotomy between these two kinds of development tends to force a reli-gious choice between a God of Success and what I shall call a God of Exchange. The Weeds among the Wheat. One kind of trouble is caused by bad beginnings. It concerns anyone anxious to make continual July-August 1993 535 Dunne ¯ 14/-bat Trouble Is growth and progress, anyone who worships the God of Success. Long before people study genetics in biology, they experience built-in potentials and patterns of growth everywhere, in flow-ers, birds, and house pets. But some elements interfere with nat-ural fulfillment and choke the natural process of growth. These elements may be people, who themselves have been affected by their own upbringing. The notion here is that people are basi-cally good and that, given rich soil and hearty fertilizer, every person and every project will turn out a success. The worst form of this kind of trouble shows when a person feels predestined to fail because of some original and irreparable personality flaw. If we develop sheerly by genetic laws, then it would follow that God calls us to be creators, to overcome obstacles, and to keep a positive spirit. There is no doubt that the kingdom will come; the inner workings of grace in history guarantee it, sure as an acorn will become an oak. Our job is simply to help it come more quickly. It will be a kingdom of exciting new discoveries, increasing cooperation among all people, and continual improve-ment in people's health and happiness. The Good News is simply the announcement that Jesus loves you and that you have the germ of grace within you. Sin is ignorance, not malice. Evangelization is chiefly education; moral reform will follow auto-matically. In the meantime, we are called to grow in holiness, to grow closer and closer to God like a blossoming flower. Hoarding Energy. This fourth kind of trouble is also about growth, but the pattern of development is determined by a series of events related to each other only by chance. We notice how living things are determined not only by origins or seeds but through a continual exchange with their environments. Here biol-ogy studies how living things give and take within their ,sur-roundings. Flowers give honey to bees while the bees ensure progeny for the flowers. While genetic coding strictly limits any one bee's behavior, the location of beehives and the proliferation of flowers are interdependent. Should a storm wipe out one, the other soon disappears. So nature's contentious personality gives us a symbol of a God of give-and-take, a historical God, an engaged God. Farmers plow their fields and their fields return corn. The better the plowing the better the corn and the better the farmer. The quality of the exchange has a dialectical effect on both sides. 536 Revieva for Religious The same goes for the growth and decay of our friendships. Eventually the friendship is either good for both of us or good for neither one. Trouble comes when things cost more than they return. If a boy exasperates his friends by compulsive chatter, he does not feel energized. He wears everyone out, including himself. Then there is the trouble we cause when we take more from the phys-ical environment than we contribute to it, as is evident in oil spills, acid rains, and fluorocarbon-charged spray cans. Whatever the case, there is trouble eithe

Issue 39.4 of the Review for Religious, July 1980. ; REVIEW FOR REt.t(;tOt~S (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collabo~:ation with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located tit Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri, © 1980. By REVIEW FOR RELI(;IOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid tit St. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.(10 a yeur, $17.(111 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REv~-:w ~:OR REL~;~OUS: P.O. Box 6070: I)uluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July, 1980 Volume 39 Number 4 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REW~:W ~'OR R~:tAc~otJs; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Journey into Christ James M. Deschene, O.S.B. Brother James' last article, "On Monastic Sexuality," appeared in the issue of November, 1979. He has recently been transferred to Christ of the Hills Monastery; P. O. Box 32849; Nimitz Station; San Antonio, TX 78216. A monk is a man of mystery. He is a mystery partly, though least importantly, because in our day and age he is little seen, little understood. He seems to be a romantic anachronism living out some medieval dream. To the outsider, monasteries are mysterious places and the monks within are always curiosities. Those who visit the monastery expect to find, in the words of Saint Athanasius written centuries ago, "an altogether different country, cut off from the rest of the world, and the inhabitants of that country have no thought than to live in love and justice." There is, however, a larger sense in which the monk is a man of mystery. For it is the monk, more than other men, who plunges his whole life into the very depths of the human adventure, into depths where the human adventure is discovered to be a response to a mysterious divine call. In that secret place, in the very heart of our being, a Voice, full of quiet power, speaks: 1 love you. Before the world was made, before the firsl tick of time, I loved you. I have made you for myself because I love you. And wh.en the universe lies cold and lifeless, I will love you still. Come, my beloved one. Walk with me. Give me your heart. To hear those words uttered in the stillness of our hearts is to know real ter-ror. For, like any human love, they demand of us a commitment of our very being. Yet unlike human love, their demand on us is an infinite one. We are asked to surrender ourselves utterly into those divine hands, to withhold nothing. We are afraid of such a love: 481 482 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 For, though I knew His Love Who followed, Yet was I sore adread Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside. (Francis Thompson, The Hound of Heaven) In the face of this demand it is easy to see why we flee from God into busy-ness, noise, distraction. Who of us can bear to be so loved? Or to offer such a love in return? Yet this love and this demand are at the very heart of our religion. God is love. And as hard as that is to believe, many find it even harder to believe that this God, this Love, loves them--infinitely (for God can do no less). This is a love that asks us to die to everything but itself, to be willing to abandon every possession, every security, every earthly thing and to leap into the dark from which God calls to us. From this darkness, from this call, from this unspeakably demanding love, we try to escape and flee. The monk does not. And insofar as man's final rest and fulfillment lie solely in God, the monk stands before us as a challenge and a sign of what we truly are and of where our lives will truly find their ending: in utter abandon-ment to the love of God. Both the Christian monk and the ordinary Christian are called to the same high and mysterious destiny. When Christ orders us to follow the narrow path, he addresses himself to all men. The monk and the lay person must attain the same heights. (St. John Chrysostom, In Epist. ad Haebraos) The monk is different in that he commits himself to this goal single-heartedly and in deadly earnest, surrendering all that might hinder the search. He who hears the voice of God must recognize that he is called to an' adventure whose ending he cannot foresee because it is in the hands of God. That is the risk and the challenge of the monastic calling: we surrender our lives into the hands of God and never take them back. (Thomas Merton, Cistercian Life) The monk is willing to suffer the loss of all things, if only Christ be gained (Ph 3:8). All the details of his life are simplified, streamlined, so that he lives with a clarity and single-mindedness often missing from the lives of other men and women. The monk is called to be the unified, integrated man whose life is centered on one thing only-- the love and service of God. And yet, for all this, we must not see the monk as special or basically different from others. Rather, he is a sign, a kind of sacrament or incarnation, of every person's specialness and vocation--to seek the God in whom alone the human heart finds rest, life and joy. You have made us for yourself, Lord. And our hearts will find no rest until they rest in you. (Saint Augustine, Confessions) The monk is also a man of despair. By being utterly honest with himself, he has come to admit the hopelessness of what the world calls good--the illu-sions, the emp.ty materialism--and knows in his heart that these values can bring no one to God, but often aid a man in hiding from the demands of the Journey into Christ infinite Lover. Yet this despair for the monk is a salutary despair, for it enables him to discard these conventional and false values and to put in their place the only true values--love, mercy, justice, peace, joy. So the monk withdraws from the city into the desert, the wilderness. He becomes an outlaw, a stranger. Yet his apartness and withdrawal are, paradoxically, signs of his deep loyalty to the family of man. In refusing to live by the values that demean human beings, the monk affirms in himself and for his brothers and sisters the true value of men and women in God's sight. Out of love for his brothers and sisters, the monk will not consent toa life that enslaves in falseness and futility. Here too the monk enters upona~mystery. For he enters a way he does not know, a journey without maps, a, land untraveled by most men and women, an uncharted wilderness. Like the Chosen People of old, he is called and led by God deeper and deeper into this unknown country. Gone are all the familiar contours of the human landscape and social life. Gone are the secur-ity and assurance of old and comfortablehabits of life. There remains in that dry desert air only the single Voice that calls one onward: "Come, my beloved one. Walk with me. Give me your heart." . Abandoning all to follow that call, the monk advances on his journey without maps. He is a fool to do so,'but he is a fool for Christ's sake; and like his Master, he confounds the wisdom of theworld by living out the wisdom of God. Seeing the monk's foolishness,- men ask: "What is the use of all this?" And the monk can give no answer. His way is not essentially a way of profit or usefulness or productivity. His life is, in the eyes of the world, a pointless one. The world never ceases to be amazed at this, and so it asks again: "What is the point of all this?" Again the monk is silent. Silence is his message. The question has been asked; that is point enough. The monk has proclaimed by his very presence the absurdity of a world apart from Ctirist. So long asa single monk lives,men will have a reason to question the ways and values of their world. Wars, revolutions, social, political ahd economic upheavals are~the tools the world uses to bring about change, Against all these the monk proclaims by his life the one-power that can healand change the world--transfiguration through love and grace. And this always happens in secret, in silence, in the d.epths where man meets God inqove. Then and there is the wounded human heart filled with healing, joy and peace, which are the monk's final gifts to suffering humanity. By surrendering himself, he has been healed, and through him flow into the world the gifts the world has ever sought but rarely found. Healing, joy, peacemthe gifts of Christ. They may be had only by a sur-render to Christ's love, by a death to all things that would separate one from his love. The monk reminds us of this. If the monk is to "reestablish all things in Christ," he must be ready to disestablish all 41~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 things in himself. Like Christ, he must empty himself, becoming obedient unto death. (Hubert van Zeller, The Holy Rule) Obedience. Death. Harsh and fearful realities for modern man. The monk, like Christ, is a man of obedience unto death. He seeks to be admitted, in love, to the heart of the mystery of the suffering Christ and to become one with that sacrifice whereby the whole world is made a new creation. He goes through death with Christ to rise in the dewy morning of a world recreated in the risen Lord. Only through obedience and death can the gifts of the new creation--joy, healing, peace--be brought to man. Our own baptism showed us this, as we were plunged into the mystery of Christ's death so we might rise with him in his new life. The monk is a living sign of baptism. In his own transfiguration through grace, having become a wholly new creature, the monk brings back into our struggling world the freshness and innocence of Eden. The monk is also a sign ol~ the end, of the coming kingdom. "Thy kingdom come," we pray, dreading that our prayer might be answered. For the kingdom (we know) will mean the end of all our petty security, our dishonesties, our comfortable habits. In the monk we see a sign of this coming kingdom. Yet in him we see too that the end, though it will be an utter catastrophe for our old ways, will finally be a deep and gracious blessing, fill~ ing our lifelong emptiness with the gifts of healing, joy and love. In the monk God gives us a living sign of this hope, a sign that Christ has already overcome the world: Easter has happened, the power of death has been vanquished, and all our fears are groundless. All that thy child's mistake Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home; Rise, clasp my hand, and come! (The Hound of Heaven) We see too in the monastery itself--in this community of brothers gathered in love and mutual service, and centered and grounded in Christ--a sign of the coming kingdom. In the sonship of the monks and the fatherhood of the abbot, all gathered in loving fellowship, we catch glimmerings of the m'ystery of the Trinity of Father, Son and Spirit. In the monastic Church, microcosm of the universal Church, with the monks gathered in Eucharist about the altar, we have a living sign of the Body of Christ, And in the fidelity of the monks to liturgical and contemplative prayer, we can discover anew that the worship and praise of God is the final destiny of man. For worship--"With my body I thee worship"--is but another word for love. The monk is indeed a man of mystery and of mysteries--mysteries of ¯ vocation, of surrender, of suffering; of obedience, of death, of resurrection; of the kingdom and of the Trinity. Perhaps most simply, though, he is a sign of the mystery of love which is the deep mystery of God. In our days, as always, rfien and women need signs of the mystery of God at work in their hearts. We need to hear the message of the monks among us: Journey into Christ / 485 as unknown yet well known, as ever at death's door, yet, wonder of wonders, we con-tinue to live; as chastened but not killed, as sorrowful yet always rejoicing, as beggars yet enriching many, as having nothing yet possessing everything. (2 Co 6:9-10) In silence, in hiddenness, the monk's life radiates its message of peace and hope into the nighttime of our world, assuring us that the light of Christ shines in the darkness of our lives. The end draws near, but it will be the end of darkness and death, not of life. And in that dawn, made bright with the risen Christ, our hearts will know the joy that never ends and the perfect love that casts out every fear. You changed my mourning into dancing; you took off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my soul might sing praise to you without ceasing; O Lord, my God, forever will I give you thanks. (Ps 29) That is the song the monk sings secretly in his heart. lit is the song of every Christian who has surrendered himself to Love. Come, my beloved one. Walk with me. Give me your heart. The 'Desert Is Blooming The desert is blooming again, but it blooms in the clefts of the rock and the wide-reaching spaces. It blooms in the night and it spills its perfumes over desolate sands in unreachable places. A stream has burst forth in the wilds but it springs from the face of a rock and its source is unseen. It leaps crystal-clear from the wound in the rock and around it the gold of the desert grows green. The desert is blooming again, but to see where the beauty is sprung and the flaming bush stands, means rising by night, walking through measureless days, with no paths and no rest over hot burning sands. But the blossoms are live bursts of flam!! and the fragrance speaks Presence that gives the heart wings. And high in the rock where the waters leap forth in the cleft is a nest where a brown sparrow sings. Sister Mary Clare of Jesus, P.C.C. Monastery of Poor Clares 215 E. Los Olivos St., Santa Barbara, CA 93105 Untirl Christ Be Formed in You Marie Beha, O.S.C. Sister Marie is a frequent contributor to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. She is a member of the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, SC 29609. At the heart of the universe there is a zone at once profound and simple . in which whatever is done to us, it is Christ who does it; whatever we do, it is to Christ we do it. (P. de Chardin, The Prayer of the University, Harper and Row, NY, 1965, p. 26.) How have we been formed, helped to grow, to become the persons we are called to be? What influences have been most formative in our lives? The answers to these questions are multiple, as well as uniquely individual. Yet a common thread runs through them all: other persons are what form us and they are most formative when they themselves are growing, healthy, that is, when they are in the formative process themselves. To be formative of others, then, one must be "in formation" oneself. Such is the simple truth: none of us is "formed," complete, totally mature; we are all on the way, in process. We all need the help of others, if we are to continue to grow. From whom can we receive the most help? It would seem that the person or persons who are most able to assist us are those who are willing to enter into a formative relationship with us, that is, who are willing to grow with us, to be "in formation" with us. The teacher, for example, who continues to learn, teaches not only subject matter but also gives us a taste for being educated. And the spiritual director whose understanding reveals that (s)he knows our struggles from having been there and from trying to move beyond, inspires us with the possibility of such growth for ourselves. Formation ministry then seems to begin with the premise that we are most formative of others when we ourselves are healthy, maturing persons, caught up in the growth process ourselves. From this it would seem to follow that this ministry should also offer, in itself, .opportunities for such growth. 486 Until Christ Be Formed in You / 487 Forming and Being in Formalion To be in a formative relationship with others, one must be "in formation" oneself. This is the basic assumption of all that follows, an assum ptio n whose meaning will be clarified as this article proceeds. But first to rule out a few misconceptions about "forming" and "being in formative relationships." Since growth comes from within, no one can assume responsibility for another's growth; no one can be made responsible. All any one can do, or fail to do, is to provide suitable environment, a climate that inspires others to mature, that makes such maturation more possible. What these persons give to others is the stimulus of experience, encouragement, and finally, example. They say with their lives: growth is worth the effort. The price may be pain but the purchase is life. This is how you are formed. Reach, stretch, mature. Be in formation with me. Another objection might be phrased: aren't those who grow the most the young and inexperienced? At first glance this might seem to be true, but only if the focus is kept on externals. Growth comes from inside out; it is qualitative, not quantitative. In terms of adding inches or amassing facts, the beginner holds the edge. But in terms Of breakthroughs, it is the skilled athlete who shaves seconds off the record; it is the experienced researcher who adds significant insights to the pile of his predecessor's conclusions. In other words, growth is most formative, not at the beginning but at the cutting edge, the tip, the climax of the process. Put in terms of model theory, a director of formation is not called to be a doctor who heals the wounds of others; only God really heals us. Nor is (s)he to be a lecturer, outlining facts and presenting them with logical clarity--there are books enough for that; nor a therapist working through the past~, helping another to discover more appropriate responses. Rather the model of an older brother or sister seems most revelatory. Like an olde~:)l brother or sister, the formation director walks alongside, shares experiences/i~ both past and present. Past experience allows him or her to have a sense of the~ way, a sureness in walking on it. Present ministry provides an opportunity to.~) walk alongside. The activity of the director of formation can only be in support both of this working of the Spirit and of human growth. The first, work of the Spirit is the Incarnation; "she conceived by the Holy Spirit" (Mr 1:20). So too the~first work of the formation minister will be to incarnate Jesus in his/her own life, to help another discover the Jesus he or she is called tobe. 'And all of this in the service of human freedom. How are we freed? By being redeemed, bought back from the slavery that is sin in us and helped to grow into full human responsibility. Such freedom cannot be taught; it can onlybe caught. It is con-tagious. In short,(~ve are formed into freedom by being with free persons, i.e., with those whom the Spirit of truth has already begun to make free. To be such an "Inspirited" person is the vocation of the director of formation, It is his ministry of being formed and so becoming formative of others. 1188 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 The Vocation of Formation Ministry How we see ourselves, regard our work, will be reflected in the way that others see us, see what we do. If an individual sees formation ministry as duty, he will be dutiful and those to whom he ministers may come to see themselves as burden, as obligation, as sacrifice. At best, they will respond by being dutiful themselves; at worst, they may become resentful and noncooperative. Others may see this ministry as an advancement and honor, an office, a promotion of sorts. In which case the service of fellow pilgrim will be lost both for the director and for those (s)he is called to serve. But both of these will probably find out quickly enough that its "duty" will call far beyond the limitations of being "dutiful"; that it is an "honor" hardly worth the cost. Yet even these extremes can be seeded with some truth. A ministry that sup-ports another's grbwth into Christ does impose the duty of living as we hope to see others live; and it is an honor to be called into such service. Formation ministry, then, is primarily service. But it is a service to which we are called, rather than a task which we choose for ourselves. It is voca-tional: a call coming from our Father and incarnated in community, a direc-tion continuous with our past, shaping our present and pointing the arrow toward future growth. And finally it is a call that will change our lives, prod us into conversion, gift us with new life in the Lord. In summary, the vocation of formation ministry will form us on that most personal level of our own call/response to the Lord. Like every vocation, the ministry of formation is primarily response, rather than self-initiated project. And a. gospel "woe" may well be pro-nounced on anyone who would be so rash as to undertake this ministry without a special call. The initiative for such an undertaking must come from the Father, be a deepening of his creative mystery at work in an individual life. How does this divine initiative become "verbalized"? In terms of such offices as superior or director of novices, it is the community which calls through election or through appointment. In regard to other expressions, for example those of spiritual direction or the formative influence of closeTriend-ship, the call still must be "spoken" by another. Spiritual direction ministry can be undertaken with greatest sureness when it is a response.to the expressed desire of others and not just a matter of embarking on a new apostolate. Similarly, the bonding of close friendship can never be a self-determined pro-ject; it is also a matter of call/response. Another way in which the vocation to formation ministry is actualized is through the reality of talent and gift. Are we able to be of service? Does past experience and training hold promise that our ministry will be fruitful for ourselves as well as for others? Even past difficulties which have allowed us to experience His power at work in our weakness may be real indicators of call and capacity for response. But all of these are only "hints." Election or appointment is the fallible work of very human instruments. Talents point to potential; but every Until Christ Be Formed in You / 489 possibility is not meant to be realized. A still clearer indication of divine initiative is found in our present response to the challenges of such a ministry. Do its painful challenges work redemption in us? Are we raised up by its self-emptying demands? Does the dailiness of this service help us to incarnate our most personal response to the Lord? If so, then we may be still more certain of our call and go on to give to it a life's commitment. For like every call, this ministry, if it is to be truly vocational, must make a lifelong difference. At first this may seem an unwarranted development. Aren't we talking about something limited in time, an office to be held for a few years and so to be taken merely as a present opportunity which will occupy us for a time and from which we will go on to other ministries? Though limita-tions of time and form are surely real enough, what seems even more true is the life-difference that such ministries do make. To enter into a formative relationship with another cannot be limited to a term of office; it is,ongoing. What is formed--or de-formed--in the other makes a critical and lifelong difference for both individuals "in formation." Obviously, the directee will need to respond "for life" to his/her formation, either by accepting its in-fluence and living out of it or :by transcending it; most often, he will need to do some of both. Likewise the director will be equally formed, but only if he com-mits himself to the formative process. More of this in the following section. But first a word on commitment. Like every call, coming from the Father, enunciated in the human accents of election/appointment and in the realized potential of the one called, a vocation to be a director of formation awaits per-sonal response. This answer begins with an acceptive, "I am willing," ".1 am ready to try." And goes on in the everyday of repeated response in the face of difficulty and challenge, as well as the joy of growth and significant dif-ference. Such renewed commitment becomes increasingly formative of still deeper commitments until an initial choice grows into a life-direction, giving its own meaning to everything else that is one's life. When this occurs, as this occurs, a director of formation grows in capacity to be formative of others just because (s)he is more formed himself. Formation in Christ The formation of every Christian is call/response to grow into "full stature': in Christ. There is no other direction for such a life in Christ than that of coming from the Father and returning to him, with the consequent becom- !ng ever more of a "son in the Son." So a vocation to be a minister of forma-tion will be lived out in deepening identification with the life of Jesus, an allowing of his life to be lived in us now. For each person so called this will mean a new enfleshing of His .mysteries of: incarnation realization, paschal transcendence, and eucharistic self-gift. Such will be the living out of a voca-tion to formation ministry. As a consequence, this ministry will become not only a call to serve others 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 ~but also an invitation to divine intimacy. Itis unfortunate that service and union have come to be seen as almost antithetical, or, at best, in a kind of ten-sion. The gospel parable of the talents hints at something quite different. There each wise investor of his talents is doubly rewarded:., with still more talents but also with an invitation to "enter into the joy of the Lord" (Mt ~" 25:21,23). So an individual who is called to the formation ministry will find that his talents will grow even as they are given away. New capabilities will be discovered in response to the needs of others. Even personal poverties will be transformed into experiences that allow one to enter more perceptively into the struggles of another. Such may be some of the ways in which talents in-vested in service of the Master are doubled in his return. But the greatest gift of all is that invitation to deepening intimacy which is extended to every faithful servant. The amount of original talents differs and so the amount of "doubling," but an opportunity for growth in personal relationship is offered each in an invitation to "enter into the joy of the Lord." Formation Ministry and ,Living Incarnation "Putting on the Lord Jesus" (Ga 3:27) could serve as the goal of all Chris-tian formation. What concerns us here is how the minister of formation is called to do this, is helped to do it, by his very service to others. The mystery of the'incarnation centers around such truths as "God so loved the world" (Jn 3:16). the virgin's acceptive, "Be it done unto me" (Lk 1:38) and climaxes in "the word became flesh and dwelt among us" (Jn 1:14). It is these same mysteries of creative love, acceptance and enfleshment of the divine, that will be realized as the formation director becomes Christ in and through service of others. "God so loved the world" (Jn 3:16). Motivation for formation ministry Imust be "rooted in love, grow in love" (Ep 3:18). As has already been sug-gested, it is not so much a task for which one volunteers as a call to which one responds out of love. "I come to do your will" (Ps 40). But this can be no grim conformity undertaken out of duty and it is surely one of the graces of this ministry that any such lack of love will be unmasked by diminished response from others. For individuals know intuitively whether they are being met by ~love or not and they respond accordingly. They also know whether they are loved only when they appear loveable or whether they are loved for themselves, as they are, in all their incompleteness. To be loved even when the sinfulness thatis still a real part of ourselves is most apparent is that merciful love that creates us anew. Such love, complete and "for-giving," is.beyond' the stretches of human capacity; it can only be a gift of sharing in the power of God's love. Yet itis just such a love that is asked of the formation director.for himself, and for those (s)he is called to minister to. This love of the Father for us "even when we are still sinners'~' (Rm 5:8) needs enfleshment this day, in unique circumstances, for particular individ- Until Christ Be Formed in You / 491 uals. But first the Father waits for human response to his promise, "! am with you" (Mr 28:20), "filling you with grace" (Lk 1:28). So a director of for-mation will find that his ministr3i calls for deepening, renewed commitment that will allow divine love to begin its transforming work. Such commitment must come in all the darkness of an acceptive trust that knows only "It is the Lord" (Jn 21:7) and yet responds, "he it done unto me." It goes on to call for a repeated giving body to this initial assent in all the life circumstances which call forth continuing, growing trust. Such trust will be renewed in the face of all those mysterious, slow and "dark" aspects of human growth, during all those times wheia any development at all is more a matter of faith than of vision. Faith grows through believing, and surely someone involved in formation ministry will be called to trust more in the Lord than in any response made out of careful planning or skilled technique, to let go of one's preconceptions and move with the Spirit, to trust one's intuitions even when they cannot be justified with reasons, to believe in the face of discouragement and apparent defeat. Often enough it is only the courageous faith of the director that will allow another to begin to believe in himself or herself. Such faith is rooted in the word of the Lord, not in human promise. Other-wise it will falter when individuals resist and all seems lost, when human mistakes are made despite the best of effort. To assist the Spirit at work in the formation of Christ in another requires an assent, made in faith's unknowing, to all that will be, even to the "end" of apparent defeat and the destruction of all that one has helped to form. For this possibility must also be accepted in a trusting "Be it done." Only, in such faith will the word that has been heard begin to be "made flesh" (Jn l : 14). First of all this must be the incarnation of Jesus, being lived out by the director himself, herself. To be so formed into Jesus is to.grow into that perfect man who is fully responsive to the Father and to others. For anyone called to formation ministry this response will be embodied both in prayer and in service. The prayer of a formation minister will be that of Jesus the mediator who stands before the Father, not in olace oLothers, but alongside of them. It will be the prayer of a life that teaches others to pray by praying. It will know seasons of necessary withdrawal and of .equally neces,sary involvement. It will include a being led by the Spirit into the desert and up upon the mountain top, as well as a responsiveness that remains always open to the immediate needs of others. Such prayer is essential, if the formation minister is to be revelatory of Jesus and of the Father. And this is the central service of any Christian ministry. The director of formation is to so incarnate the God-man that it can be said that anyone who sees hin), her, sees Jesu_.~Ajyjag~to_d_day. And if that weren't challenge enough, the director of formation is also called to reveal the Jesus that is in the other. For we are not meant, it seems, to 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 see, perhaps even to attempt to look at, the Jesus that is growing in ourselves. It takes the faithful love of another to mirror him to us. We need another to reveal that our needs as well as our gifts, our as yet unrealized potential as well as our present loveliness, are all beginnings of new life in Christ, a new incar-nation. Formation Ministry and Paschal Transcendence Letting Jesus live his life in us calls for an incarnational assent to the potential that is offered us in baptism; this initial commitment grows with each renewal that allows his life to become still more enfleshed in our being. Such responsiveness on the part of a director of formation will inevitably involve a "Journey up to Jerusalem" (Lk 19:28), a sharing in the dying and rising of Jesus in one's own life'and in the lives of others. Such suffering, no matter how it appears at the time, is never defeat; it is lpromise of paschal victory. But first the cross. The suffering we speak of here is not primarily a matter,of pain but rather the sum of all that must be borne 'until Christ be formed ' (Ga 4:19) in ourselves and in others. For to be in formative relationship with another means a being open that implies vulner-abilitY,; it risks letting other~ come close enough to us so that they may be touched, so that we may touch them. Such "touching" is apt symbol for the 'healing that isthe paschal victory of all redemption. But redemption is a costly process and consequently the director of formation is inevitably committed to renewed sharing in the sufferings of Christ "for the sake of his body" (Col 1:24). The sufferings of formation work include not only the expenditure of time and energy that are part of the price of any worthwhile undertakingobut they go on to ificlude the deeper sufferirigs of respons'iveness to others in the critical struggles of their being redeemed, and they culminate in the self-gift that is in-evitable in any process oftransformation. In this work of redemption' ~vith ~11 its suffering the director will find his or her own life being changed into greater identification which will, in its turn, be most formative of other~. So transfor-mation into Christ crucified will not only be a goal Of fo~rmation; it will also be part of the process for all who are "in formation." From the beginning, the'labor of formation will require a sacrifice of time, not only providing a certain allotment of time but even more radically ihe generosity to let one's time be taken by others. To let others take time mbans to give them time: to grow at their own pace, to express themselves in their own way, to claim as their own the time they need. It is not to allow ourselves or others to waste time in self-indulgent claims for attention, in endless repeti-ti6ns, in hesitancy that becomes fixed in cowardice. To give time is rather to offer it so that it may be consecrated to the work of redemption. Such an of-fertory is easily made in words; it is consummated in d~ily responsiveness: to an inconvenient request for "just a minute," to a halting expression of another's journey toward truth, to the setting aside bf a cherished project for Until Christ Be Formed in You / 49~! the sake of another's critical need. What is really given now "belongs" to others; the director can no longer lay claim to ownership, not even the hidden justification of self-pity and complaint. Free time cannot be hoarded; work time, for a dedicated director of formation, must always give priority to per-sons. So schedules bend and plans must be sometimes set aside. All of this "costs," yet, since it is not beyond the agreed upon price of this service, there is no honest cause for complaint. Self-pity is not only useless, it is unjustified and becomes, when this is admitted, singularly unsatisfying. However, such a gift of time, if it is to be a consecration of reality, cannot be without limits. A formation director who attempts to give away every minute attempts to be more than human and so inevitably fails. Everyone's time is limited; and to learn to live within limits is part of the formation pro-cess. To say "no" to what one cannot do, can be a dark ~nd mysterious "yes" to what one really is. For example, refusing a request may be a necessary part of giving priority to prayer. Such a choice is formative for life not only for the director but also for the one (s)he directs. Similarly giving oneself time and leisure to live is part of accepted human-ness. It sounds so easy, so right, but it requires discipline and so becomes another aspect of the cross formed by our temporal limits. When days are full already the temptation to overload must be resisted even when the tempter speaks in beguiling accents of real need or personal opportunity. A director of formation will grow personally and in service to others, as (s)he accepts per-sonal limits, learns to live within them, never failing to take time for prayer, giving unstintingly in service even at the price of personal inconvenience, but also resisting the temptation to become a messiah who needs to save all. As (s)he,grows thus in recognition of "the hour," a director of formation enters ever more deeply into the paschal mystery. This identification with the dying-rising of Jesus goes on in all the close, personal interchange, the "touching" and allowing oneself to "be touched" that is at the heart of the healing power of formation ministry. A director of formation will come to experience, for example, what it means to stand firm against the gravitational pull of sin, bad habits, patterns of self-indulgence. (S)he will have to respond honestly to such in others; but to do so, (s)he will also need to acknowledge and resist the powers of evil in himself. At times, the persons one is called to serve will try to defend themselves by lashing out at the director's faults. They may even be painfully accurate with their barbs and this will hurt; it can also heal, if accepted. Such is the mutuality of the process that valid criticisms, even when spoken in anger, can form humility--in director and. directee. When the criticism is more vindictive than valid, it can still be formative if the director stands firm and continues to love the other. In ministering to others in their "dying" one can expect some denial, anger, depression. To expect it, however, is not to take it all into oneself; this would only be to die oneself without any promise of hope in new life. Denial 494 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 must first be understood for what it is, a kind of first line of defense; but it cannot be condoned. Similarly, anger will require both honest admission and acceptance. If it is to become purifying, its energy must be channeled into con-structive ways lest it turn into self-destruction and the final defeat of closed-minded bitterness. So too, depression will need adequate expression as well as ! understanding compassion; but it too must be passed beyond. What the direc-tor willdo in allof these cases is to give immediate, concrete expression to Christ's understanding, acceptance and compassion, and this will be for him/her a renewed experience of "putting on the mind of Christ Jesus" (PhB2~)~t the same time, (s)he will resist the powers of darkness that could allow moods to mushroom into clouds of negative feelings, infect others with a critical spirit and damage the peace with projections that wound the truth. A director of formation may know in very personal ways the price of battling with such divisive spirits. But this too can become a sharing in the passion of Jesus, who both began and ended his public life in combat with Satan. In thus resisting the powers of evil, the director of formation will also experience those aspects of the passion in which Jesus "emptied himself" (Ph 2:7) taking on our weakness. To be called like Jesus to express the Father's desire that each individual come into freedom is not to experience that one is.a savior. On the contrary, the truth is that we do not save; only the Father does in and through Jesus. And in and through the life that Jesus lives in us today. Just as the power to save was costly for Jesus, cost him his life, so too it will cost life for a committed director. Though at times this may take on dramatic proportions, such crises cannot be anticipated. They can only be prepared for in the everyday, in the selfless bearing of others' burdens, in con- ~stant care, in lived through loneliness, in faced failures. To bear others' burdens without making them feel that they, themselves, have be6ome a burden takes a love that seeks to give rather than to receive. To care for others enough to let that become our heart's response, that is to experience the love that heals. Paul speaks of his "constant care for all the churches" (2 Co 11:28) as one of his most pressing apostolic sufferings; a director who cares will ¯ probably experience something of the same "weight of glory" (2 Co 4:17). Loneliness seems to be something of an occupational hazard for all direc-tors, surrounded though they are by others and yet called into a uniquely selfless kind of relationship with them. Like Jesus, the director must be there for others, not for himself/herself. What (s)he may wish to spe~k about, his/her concerns, feelings, fears or hopes, these are not the focus of the direc-tional relationship. Consequently, the director will probably know end-of-day times, holidays and even "holy days" when personal needs go without much human comfort, or understanding. These can be special opportunities for growth in relationship to the Father, who calls and who promises a corre-sponding grace of new intimacy to all who share the life of sonship. Finally, the director of formation will face failure; not only the burden of Until Christ Be Formed in You / 495 his own inadequacies but the tragedy, on occasion, of human resistance ~to grace, the weakness of repeated denial, reluctance to face truth, the darkness of a mind that cannot go beyond prejudice, and sometimes, even, outright denial for the sake of more immediate satisfaction. These are failures. Not only personal failures, but losses in the cosmic struggle for final redemption. They will not be ultimately defeative, however, if faith on the part of the direc-tor can transform them into claims on the power of God. And it is the power of the Father at work in the world, particularly the world, of "beloved sons" (Mt 3:17), that promises and makes possible, final triumph. This is the "secret" of the director's ability to empower others. (S)he trusts so completely in the Father's redemptive love that others are enabled to respond more fully, more freely. This is resurrection. And it is surely one of the paschal joys of formation ministry to see individuals begin to trust enough that they are willing to risk the darkness of buried fears, mixed motivations, strong conflicts. Only when these are faced and gone through can risen life begin to be realized. It is in such "passing through" that the director knows most fully the mystery that death gives way to glory. The promise of such Easter rising will be realized every time love is victorious over limitation, temptation, and human weakness, and new life comes.into the mystical Body of Jesus. Formation Ministry and Eucharistic Presence The formative process of "putting on Christ Jesus" (Gal 3:27) begins with an incarnational enfleshing of spirit; it continues in a passing through death into new trust and hope and joy; it culminates in an abiding presence that transforms the bread of our work and the wine of our pain into Eucharist. To live a eucharistic life, a director of formation will need to be really present in faith, to be offered in a daily sacrifice ~of praise, and, ultimately, to be transformed in the very body of Jesus. Eucharist realizes the abiding presence of Jesus, his remainingwith us even after he has passed through death into the full glory of his Father. It is one of a formation director's continuing joys to be allowed to. be_a.co-presence of Chris_____t in the lives of so many others. But such presence, if it is to be truly eucharistic, has to remain constant no matter what the times or seasons, places or persons. To be present in the present is, then, one of the ways in which the forma-tion director is challenged to live eucharistically. Surrendering the past into the mercy of God, letting go of hurts, transcending emotions'whose reality is chiefly out of former experiences, forgiving with enough love to forget as well: these are some of the ways in which what has been must be transcended to let the present break through. For it is only in the sacredness of present reality that God's gift can be received and given again. Such presence will also demand that a formation director set aside per-~ sonal concerns, to gift another with loving attention in the present moment. 496 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 (S)he will also need to transcend felt preference for this individual or that one, in order to be more given to each person who comes. Like the bread of life that can be received by all, the love of someone called to formation ministry will have to be present for and to many, many different persons. Rarely does a formation director have anything to say about which individuals (s)he will serve; rather (s)he learns to simply be there strongly and quietly, always pres-ent but as a sign to be passed beyond. Here again the director is formed into a eucharistic life through the grow-ing realization of what it means to live as sign of;the Lord's abiding love. First of all such a ministry demands a constant fidelity, if it is to speak of "everlasting love" (Jr 31:3). To be with others even when they are barely there themselves, to remain during the critical hours of choice, as well as the long days when not much seems to happen. To suffer with others in their pain and be companions of every small joy: all this calls for growing unselfishness. But such fidelity speaks significantly of a God who is always with us. And it is this kind of witness that makes a formation director into a sign of Real Presence. But only a sign meant to point beyond itself. Just as eucharistic bread abides as food, but only for this present journey, so too, a director of forma-tion will need to be constant in presence, .but only for the sake of another's going beyond. No sign is meant to call attention to itself but only to the greater reality which it signifies. So too, formation ministry will realize its goals when individuals transcend initial needs and grow more secure in self-direction. But none of us is meant to be so independent that we no longer need formation; our goal is to grow together in mutual formative responsibility. For such growth to occur, the directee will need to let go of "attachment" to direction and the director, to point beyond self toward greater freedom. To live a eucharistic life, a director of formation will also be asked to become an "unending sacrifice of praise" (Heb 13:15). Such a spirit of thanksgiving opens the heart of oneself and others to the Father's goodness, present in all created things. To enjoy one's daily bread requires an asceticism that goes beyond the mood swings which tend to dominate our interior world, as well as the changeable circumstances of everyday life. Such joy transcends immediate perceptions and rests secure in a faith which believes that everything that comes into our lives can be transformed. So the ordinary holds promise of gift and even the painful possesses possibility. It is within our per-sonal power to pronounce consecrating words every time we are acceptive of reality, saying "this is my body," my life, my world, a gift of His love. Such an asceticism of constant joy requires a eucharistic spirit of "giving thanks always" (Ep 5:20). For what are we grateful? Unless our pains as well as our pleasures are included, we have yet to discover the redeeming presence of Jesus offering praise to the Father through the sacrifice of his life. Such a vision of reality sees beyond appearances; it will require the eyes of faith, if we are to accept everything that comes to us as gift. Such living faith can best be caught from others who help us see that even o,._____ur most personal poverties pr.~o- Until Christ Be Formed in You / 497 vide opportunity for God's power to break through. Like wheat and grapes they matter for transformation. Such a spirit of praise for the ordinary and thanksgiving even for the pain-ful can only be celebrated in community. We cannot be grateful unless we are in relation with others; we cannot see with redemptive vision unless others open our eyes to the "glory dwelling in our land" (Ps 85:9). To see the beauty in the ordinary of others' lives will be one of the formation director's causes of celebration. Sharing the vision of someone who is discovering a certain truth for the first time will call forth hymns of praise. Even the cross will be celebrated, not for itself, but for the new life that it promises. A formation director will have ample opportunity t'o know the slow~ ordinary ways of human growth, to believe in the possibility of tra~sforming~ persons into a new body of Christ. His/her faith will be challenged in.the face~ of another's incredulity, "l'll never be any better." "I can't do it." "It's to much for me." In the face of such too human protests, the director can say, not only with words, but far 'm~re powerfully with a whole life's attitude, "Nothing is impossible for God" (Lk 1:37), if.you let his word and work transforni you. In hope, sometimes in a beginning vision of what is being accomplished, a director of formation will finally come to "see" something of eschatological promise. New life is coming; Jesus is being revealed. To help another discover the Jesus that he or she is called to become is surely one of the joys of forma-tion ministry. It is a work of love, for only love is creative enou_gh to let the ordinary become revelatory. So a director of formation becomes Eucharist in a ministry that requires abiding presence, joy-filled offering, and a faith that is open to transforma-tion. But the sacrifice that prepares for such a consecration is effected most really in the everyday of "bread that is broken" and "blood that is poured out" (Mr 26:26-27). For this ministry will, at times, require the kind of giving of one's body and blood beyond what can be asked, much less required. Only love can dare to make such demands. And it is out of love that a formation director will respond with a laying down of one's life for others. How is such sacrifice "ac(omplished"? In a giving whose only self-determination is to give everything, even self, away. The "accidents" of such an offering will be the gifts of time and energy, patience and persistence, shared pain and continuing struggles to respond; these will be the appearances that remain. They signify the constant ordinariness of this sacrificial ministry; they are the human externals giving form and expression to th~ desire that one's life be given to nourish the growth of others into fuller union in Christ. Underneath these and other external accidents of this ministry of forma-tion, an essential change takes place. That life which is "laid down for others" (Jn 15:13) will gradually be transformed into the life of Jesus who "gave himself as a ransom for many" (Mt'20:28). And it is in the giving that the transformation will be effected. Just as Jesus became savior in the living out 4911 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 of his mission, so too a director of formation will grow into greater identifica-tion with Jesus, by living out his saving mission, even to accepting the repeated small deaths that it entails. In this way transformation will be effected: "I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me" (Ga 2:20). Such interior change from living one's own life to allowing Christ to live his life, his mysteries, in us can transform the ordinary bread of human effort into a new sacramental reality. What is given becomes more significative, and so more effective. What is signified, what is really effected, is the love of God poured out in the Spirit of Jesus. Life becomes___a~from the Father, an acceptance of what is offered a .nd a_._~more.and_.more total return. This is the life of sonship. It is what all are called to live, what Jesus desires to live in us, if we allow him. For a, director of formation who is willing to give, who is willing to give with a whole life's body and blood, such self-donation promises a communion that grows into ever closer identification. And this, not only for oneself, but also for those to whom one ministers. In this way the mysteries of Christ will not simply be remembered; they will be celebrated anew in the lives of all who are involved in the formative process. Each individual will be called to live again the realism of the incarnation, the transformation of dying-rising, and the self-gift of eucharistic presence. And this very living will be transforming, until each of us and all of us together finally come to "form that one body which is Christ Jesus come to full stature" (Ep 4:13). A nnuncialion Stirring summer air salutes her cheek, Then tomorrows whirl inside her Kaleidoscope of thunderstorm and sunrise. She cups a question--"How?"--around the message To know its shape, And strikes white-hot divinity. "Let it be done!" Storm and sun explode In searing glory That contracts into a spark Within her womb. Sister Mary Cabrini Durkin, O.S.U. 1339 East McMill~n Street Cincinnati, OH 45206 Ecumenical Commitment and the Contemplative Dimension Robert Hale, O.S.B., Camald. Father Hale is the Roman Cfftholic Prior of Incarnation Priory, an ecumenical monastic com-munity sponsored jointly by the Camaldolese Order and the (Anglican) Order of the H61y Cross. His address is Incarnation Priory; 2451 Ridge Road; Berkeley, CA 94709. What relation can exist between ecumenism and the contemplative orders? Or indeed (and more importantly) between ecumenism and the more con-templative dimension in every religious, in every Christian life? ls there something about ecumenism that can reach down to that level and profoundly engage it? Or does ecumenism simply mean attending conferences and crack-ing technical theological books? If such were the case, it would probably run the risk of becoming just another cultural activity for churchy people, and fade sooner or later, with the emergence of a new fad. There are in fact some telling indications that ecumenism can reach down to the contemplative dimension, nourish it and challenge its full commitment. One thinks of a Taizi:, for instance, or of Chevetogne; one remembers a Thomas Merton, so profoundly ecumenical throughout his entire spiritual journey. The list of communities and individuals that witness to this con-templative dimension of ecumenism could certainly be extended at length. But what is it about ecumenism that does reach into the contemplative level? And indeed what is it about contemplation which (perhaps) really requires an ecumenical opening out? This article will seek to probe some of the ways these two areas overlap and interact. Ecumenism and Prayer of Petition Of course one of the most obvious ways t'hat the two are brought together is the moment of petitionary prayer. And it is precisely the contemplative who 499 500 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 is not ashamed to ask for things from the Father, for the more we advance in prayer, the more experientially we know that all is grace. So the more childlike our prayer can become, insistently asking. Cassian, for instance, proposes to very advanced contemplatives the constant repetition of the verse from the Psalms: "O God make speed to save me: O Lord make haste to help me.'" This contemplative form is an "important stage''2 towards the emergence of the Prayer of Jesus in Sinite and Athonite Hesychasm.3 "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me" is not the only formula used, but the prayer almost always has the.character of a petition.4 In the western tradition, the author of the Cloud suggests that when contemplatives pray in words, "their words are few. A short prayer pierces the heavens.''5 This also because "the contemplative must hold himself continually poised and alert at the highest and most sovereign point of the spirit,"6 and at that level one isn't loquacious. And what should this briefest of prayers be? Let me try to illustrate what I mean with an example from real life. A man or woman ter-rified by sudden disaster is forced by the circumstances to the limits of his personal resources, and marshals all his energy into one great cry for help. In extreme situations like this, a person is not given to many Words nor even to long ones. Instead, summoning all his strength, he expresses his desperate need in one loud cry: "Help!'" One could multiply the citations from contemplative authors,8 but the point probably doesn't need belaboring: the contemplative, like the insistent widow in Christ's parable (Lk 18:1-8), is not afraid to lose a little dignity and time in beating urgently on the door. The Fathers speak of the contemplative also as a Jacob who must frequently wrestle with God. George Herbert's striking poem entitled "Prayer" re-evokes this more urgent and dramatic function of prayer: Engine against th'AImightie, sinners towre, Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear.~ ' John Cassian, Conferences, X. 10; 2. Sources Chr~tiennes (Paris: Les l~ditions du Cerf, 1958) LIV, p. 88. 20. Chadwick, John Cassian (Cambridge: University Press, 1968), p. 106. ~ See for example A Monk of the Eastern Church, The Prayer o f Jesus (New York: Desclee, 1967), pp. 29-58. ~ Ibid., pp. 65f. ' The Cloud of Unknowing and The Book of Privy Counseling (New York: Image Books, 1973), pp. 95-96. 6 Ibid., p. 95. ' Ibid., p. 95-96; see also W. Johnston, The Mysticism of the Cloud of Unknowing (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1975), pp. 168-172. ~ See for instance Ludovicus BIosius on "Aspirations" in A Book of Spiritual Instruction (Maryland: Newman Press, 1955), pp. 30-37; see also A. Baker, Holy Wisdom: Directions for the Praye~ of Contemplation (London: Burns Oates & Washbourne, 1950), pp. 509-518, etc. * George Herbert, The English Poems (London: Dent, 1977), p. 70. For an Orthodox analysis of the mystical theology in Herbert's poetry see Sister Thekla, George Herbert: Idea and Image (Buckinghamshire: Greek Orthodox Monastery, 1974). Ecumenical Commitment and the Contemplative Dimension / 501 We perhaps need a little of this violent urgency when praying about reunion. We have gotten our Christian collective selves in quite a mess. Anglicans have been praying for centuries that God might "give us the grace seriously to lay to heart the great dangers we are in by our unhappy divisions.'''° More recently, Vatican lI has endeavored also to stir up Catholics to "remorse over Christian divisions and a longing for unity.'"' But ecumenical theologians are unanimous in insisting that we're not going to be able to get out of this one trusting merely in our own skills. Authentic reunion in diversity will be primarily a gift. But we, like the lame and blind in the Gospels, must beg for the miracle. Christ isn't going to force it down our throats. Shifting Cassian's (and the Psalmist's) prayer into the plural, we must beg: "O Lord, make speed to help us!" Or maybe we'll just cry out with the author of the Cloud." "Help!" Ecumenism and Contemplative Renewal Thomas Merton, in an important article published the year of his death, and which well merits rereading, argues the intrinsic connection between ecumenism and contemplative renewal.'2 With the Counter-Reformation, contemplative life tended to assume an "inflexible" form, adopt a "stern em-phasis on 'regularity,' not to say legalism" which was "justified by a casuistical and sometimes arbitrary theology" and marked by "touching, though bizarre, manifestations of mystical stamp.'"3 One of the occupational hazards of the post-Tridentine contemplative ~ndeavor is that in its rigidity and tension it must sustain "an illusion of Special election and of incorruptible truth." ,4 The "contemplatives" caught up in this self-conscious nervousness can "do so much to save their souls that they lose them., they concentrate on such particular, limited aspects of good that they become perverse and singular.'"~ Anyone who has some acquaintance with contemplative monasteries and convents, and with "contemplative souls," is quite aware that Merton is on to something; the danger he is talking about is still inside our prayer life. What might serve as a protection and antidote? Merton proposes a good swig of ecumenism. He is talking specifically about monasteries, but the argument clearly has a wider relevance: The monastic life must preserve or acquire an ecumenical relevance, in the form of an ,o The Book of Common Prayer(New York: Oxford University Press, 1952), p. 37; this prayer has fortunately been conserved in the new Book of Common Prayer (New York: Seabury Press, 1977), p. 818. " Decree on Ecumenism, Introduction, n. I, in Abbot, p. 342. ': :T. Merton, "Ecumenism and Monastic Renewal," Journal of Ecumenical Studies (1968), reprinted in Contemplation in a World of Action (New York: Doubleday, 1971); citations here will be from the book. ,5 Ibid., p. 185. " Ibid., '~ Ibid., pp. 185-186. 502 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/4 openness which is not only ready and able to discuss credal or sectarian differences w~tla polite detachment, but which is able to share on the deepest level the risks and agonies of Christian crisis, i6 If the problem isnervous rigidity and narrowness, clearly the opening out that ecumenical consciousness requires can constitute a needed healing force. Thus Merton is delighted that "monasteries are promising to become centers not only of ecumenical discussion but of deeply lived and participated ecumenical experience. ' ' ' 7 The author of the Cloud speaks of the "arduous toil" of the "con-templative work.'"8 For such a taxing activity, we need the solid nourishment of the Word, of the Eucharist, of the Fathers. Our own extremely rich Catholic heritage has often been rather diluted by post-Tridentine devo-tionalism, by anti-quietism squeamishness regarding contemplative prayer. The Reform insistence on the centrality of the Word, the Anglican and Orthodox awareness of the Patristic heritage, contemplative traditions that have flourished in other Churches--all these can nourish and broaden our own contemplative prayer. Merton himself is an evident example of a Catholic contemplative growing constantly from an openness to so many other heritages. If contemplation consists in so growing in union with God that our deepest consciousness expands to the dimensions of his love, certainly that love is limitless, and his salvific will embraces all men. If Christ has come to batter down men's walls and grant us his koinonia and reconciliation, surely he is the chief and principal ecumenist. And as we grow in union with him through con-templative prayer, then we shall become ecumenists at this deepest level of our Christ life. Contemplation and Ecumenical Renewal But if ecumenism can revitalize our contemplative life, it is also true that contemplation can contribute decisively to the growth of true ecumenism. Jean Tillard has noted: The reunion of two separated churches is not a mechanical process. And it cannot be the result only of theological discussions and official authoritative decisions. It is primarily a spiritual matter.Our reconciliation will be a true one and our unity a full one only if they are spiritually prepared and spiritually received. In other words, reunion has a mystical dimension." ~ Ibid., pp. 186-187. " Ibid., p. 196; see concrete proposals in R. Hale, "The Benedictine Spirit in Anglicanism," American Benedictine Review (Sept. 1979), pp. 245-248. '~ Cloud, op. cit., p. 83. '~ J. Tillard, Sermon preached at Mass of Reconciliation, Holy Cross Monastery, West Park N.Y., Sept. 18, 1976. OLcourse theDecree on Ecumenism insists that "spiritual ecumenism"-- conversion of heart, prayer and holiness of life--constitutes the "soul of the whole ecumenical movement." Ch. 11, nn. 7-8, in Abbot, pp. 351-352. Ecumenical Commitment and the Contemplative Dimension /503 If there is one aspect that has been wanting, the expert ecumenist continues, it is precisely this contemplative dimension: During the last years, we probably did not care sufficiently about this profound dimen-sion. We had a theological, doctrinal official ecumenism. Did we have a real spiritual one?2o The need of this contemplative dimension to fortify the ecumenical movement is probably more urgent than ever. Cardinal Hume has recently noted that ecumenism seems to be entering "a phase which is characteristic in the spiritual life--the dark night of the soul.''2' The analogy is most telling, because the dark night "follows on an initial period of fervor and enthusiasm and, when it happens, the soul runs the risk of giving way to frustration and impatience. It can sometimes have the impression of having been abandoned by God.''2~ Anyone acquainted with the current ecumenical situation will recognize the aptness of the Cardinal's reference. But the only way to get through the dark nights, according to St. John of the Cross, is through a most profound faith that is nourished from within by a contemplative experience of God's loving faithfulness. Things ecumenical do seem rather blocked at this point, and flashy joint liturgies and improvised lowest-common-denominator accords are not going to get us through. It may be that only the tenacious stay-ing power of contemplative experience will do it. Towards the beginning of this article, the importance of contemplative petitionary prayer was noted; but perhaps even more basically than that, ecumenism needs contemplative faith. Two Visions The ecumenical hope proposes a vision of a "coming great Church" in which each ecclesial community will .~be able to maintain its own unique spiritual and theological heritage, but all will be bound up in one sacramental and doctrinal communion, and rooted in the one Christ.~ The contemplative badly needs this beautiful ecclesial vision. It is a kind of giant mandala that reveals the Center, and also the circumference of his prayer. It is also a macrocosm of what his own spiritual life should be: the harmonious intercom- 20 j. Tillard, op. cit. 2' B. Cardinal Hume, cited in Catholic Herald (July 6, 1978), p. 3. 22 Ibid. 2~ Pope Paul VI, in treating of the reunion of the Anglican Communion and the Roman Catholic Church, sketched in broad outline one aspect of this vision: "There will be no seeking to lessen the legitimate prestige and the worthy patrimony of piety and usage proper to the Anglican Church when the Roman Catholic Church--this humble Servant of the Servants of God--is able to embrace her ever beloved Sister in the one authentic communion of the family of Christ: a com-munion of origin and of faith, a communion of priesthood and of rule, a communion of the Saints in the freedom and love of the Spirit of Jesus." Pope Paul VI, Homily for the Canonization of the Forty Martyrs of England and Wales, L 'Osservatore Romano (26-27 October 1970), p. 2. See also Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 62 (1970), p: 753. See also R. Hale, "La comunione anglicana: chiesa ponte, chiesa sorella," Vita Monastica l October 1978), pp. 3-11. 504 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/4 munion of the several distinct dimensions of his being (for instance: body, mind, spirit) centered in Christ. It is also a model of what every community ideally would be--the unique personality of each safeguarded in the one pro-found intercommunion in Christ. The contemplative certainly needs the ecumenical vision. But the contemplative also has a vision: his glimpse of that communion which binds the Son to the Father in the one Spirit. And that one primordial communion is the source and measure of the ecclesial communion we seek; the prayer is often enough cited, but it deserves continual remeditation, for it sums up the contemplative and the ecumenical hope: "Father, that they may all be one, as you are in me and I in you, so also may they be in us" (Jn 17:21). REPRINTS FROM TIlE REVIEW "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," H. F. Smith, S.J . 30 "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice," M. Ollva, S.J . 50 "Celibate Genitality," W. F. Kraft . 50 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . . 30 "Consciousness Examen," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Aschenbrenner, S.J . 50 "Prayer of Personal Reminiscence," D. J. Hassel, S.J . 60 "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .75 "The Contemporary Spirituality of the Monastic Lectio," ¯ M. Neuman, O.S.B . 50 "The Four Moments of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J . 50 "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Please include 75¢ postage and handling charge with pre-paid orders. An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice I1: Community, Prayer and Eucharist Max Oliva, S.J. Father Oliva recently completed seven years as Director of Social Ministries for the California Province of the Society of Jesus. He is now Coordinator-Facilitator of Companions for Justice, a summer program of insertion with the poor for Jesuit priests and brothers. This summer he will be conduciing workshops on faith' and justice for laity, religious, students, seminarians, educators and people who work in social ministry. He continues to reside at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Introduction' The author pointed out in Part I of this article2 that we are called to the ministry of social justice by Jesus Christ, who works with us and whose Spirit is the source of our courage, wisdom, power and hope. It is God who must be the center of our lives, the focal point of our iden-tity: God's personal love for us is the basis of our worth. One writer expresses it this way: Christianity is such a radical and sweeping counter-stance to accepted standards and ways of action that the couiage it requires can only come from the security that is founded in being loved as sons and daughters of God. Only if we are firmly founded in dependence on God's love can we be willing to take the risks and suffer the pain involved ' The author is indebted to Father Bill Spohn, S.J., Assistant Professor of Theological Ethics at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, for his helpful comments in the preparation of this article. 2 Part I of "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice" appeared in the September, 1977, issue of Review for Religious. 505 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 in really living out our Christian call to love others as compassionately and completely as Jesus does? . If God is the center of our lives, we can be people of unconditional trust, trust that transcends our fears of getting involved in justice issues, trust that looks beyond our uncertainties and insecurities, our skepticism and lack of belief, even what is reasonable or logical. It is unconditional trust in the loving power of God. Abraham had this trust: "I will make you a great nation and I will bless you and your descendants." Abraham went as the Lord directed him." (Gn 12:2,4) Mary also had this unconditional trust: "The angel said, 'You have found favor with God. You shall conceive a son and give him the name Jesus.' . Mary responded: 'I am the servant of the Lord. Let it be done to me as you say.' " (Lk 1:30,31,38) Each believed that nothing is im-possible with God. Each entrusted even though they had no idea what the future would bring. So it is unconditional trust that God's promise will be fulfilled through us, that God does not call us to do more than we are capable of, and that he is with us as we follow his call whether it be to enter into the lives of the materially poor or to encounter unjust social structures and those who manage them. Community In our faith commitment to justice, we depend on other people for challenge and support. Community may mean the members of one's family, selected friends, or a religious congregation. Our community may consist of those we live with as well as our "extended community," that is, people out-side one's immediate living situation, men and women, who more explicitly share a similar commitment to justice with us. Whatever the shape community takes for us, other people are indispensable if we are to be continually re-freshed and empowered to act for justice. In regards to the ministry of social justice, the author has found certain values in community to be important for an effective ongoing commitment'. In some ways, one can say that charity, or justice, begins at home, where we learn to value people above issues, where we learn to respect and trust dif-ferent ways of responding to the injustices of our world. However, it can also be said that the change~ that happen in us when we enter into another culture (be it ethnic or the culture of poverty)-- losing our fears, working through our insecurities and feelings of repugnance in a new environment, being freed from our prejudices--enable us to be more loving to the "difficult" people we live with, the sick, the aged, the lonely, the alcoholic, thehard to get along with. We go out to,the poor .where we are enriched by them and return to com-munity where we are better able to enrich others and invite them to become more involved in the struggle for justice. ~ St. Mary Seraphim, P.C~P.A., review of A Transformed Mind and Heart--Becoming Vulnerable and Compassionate, by Joseph Breaull, in Spiritual Life, Fall 1979, p.183. A Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice: H / 507' In order to effectively call one another to a faith justice commitment demands that our relationships be reciprocal: mutual trust and respect, open-ness to be challenged as well as to challenge, presuming goodwill on the part of the other, and inviting one another to go beyond the comfort of one's present degree or manner of commitment. One needs realistic expectations in looking to another's progress, an ability to rejoice in.small victories and enough self-insight to realize from one's own heart how intricate and demanding the pro-cess of conversion is even in regards to seemingly "little" things. Some people are more aggressive than others in promoting justice in their community. The one whose posture it is to confront others needs to be com-passionate in his br her attitude and behavior towards the other. Like Jesus, he or she will not "break a bruised reed or quench a smoldering wick" (Mt 12:22). On the other hand, other people are more low-key in their approach, one might even say timid at times. They may need to push themselves to speak out for the materially poor or for issuesof peace. Each approach needs to find its balance that the Lord may more clearly be known and the kingdom be furthered. It sometimes happens that the more aggressive approach opens up the door for the more gentle person to enter the scene. As one whose own style is low-key, it is the author's experience that he is often invited to present ideas on social justice in situations where a more confrontative approach has proved fruitless. This is especially the case when the person or group is at the begin-ning stage of a commitment to justice. It frequently happens in community that a "pioneer~type person"--the first one into a new field or apostolic endeavor--is tempted to bitterness and withdrawal because of a perceived lack of support from his or her own col-leagues. This is certainly true in the area of actions for peace and justice. What is actually often occurring is a fear and defensiveness on the part of those not similarly involved, that what they do and standfor is somehow under attack or being devalued. Take, for example, the case of a woman religious who belongs to a congregation which has traditionally taught in schools. She asks fora different kind of ministry, to work in a low-income area as a parish sister or to become a lawyer and work.with the materially poor. She may appear a threat to the other sisters without even being conscious of it much less deliberately trying to achieve' it. She needs to be aware of the possible effects of her seemingly "radical" move, not to discourage her from following her call, but to prevent her from becoming marginal with her congregation. The pioneer needs to transcend his or her own uncomfortable feelings toward the community and reach out to the others in an ~honest request for support. Such an attitude and stance is likely not to polarize, but to touch hearts in compas-sion and reconciliation. Mutual support and education are much more likely to result. Community can be an excellent vehicle for calling forth the best that is in us and helping us to realize and own our gifts. One value of having different 508 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 approaches to the ministry of social justice in a community is that others help us to clarify our own way of responding. It is the author's experience that a real help to enhancing the contribution of community is some form of group process. Group meetings can take the form of discussions of sensitive issues, such as, communal and personal life-style, or how to support a community member who out of conscience has decided to perform an act of civil disobedience and risks jail. Community gatherings can be used for the purpose of sharing one's faith and the motiva-tion one has in acting for justice. A meeting may be the kind of forum necessary for a member of the community to share his or her fears of acting for justice or the vulnerability one is experiencing in acting for justice. It is helpful in such a process not to be anxious over the seeming lack of "measured results," but to learn to.be at peace with the process, even the pain that others may be experiencing or the struggle that the group is undergoing. Some groups may find it helpful to bring in non-community people as resources, such as those who are materially poor or those who are involved in actions for justice. Whatever the actions of the individuals in community or the community itself, reflection on these efforts in the light of faith protects us from either harsh actions in the name of "justice" or misguided sentimentality in the name of religion. The Eucharist To gather together in worship is the most profound way we express ourselves communally. Liturgy, whether eucharistic or not, unites us to one another and to our God and to the poor and oppressed in the world in a unique way. Let us take a few moments to consider the Eucharist. We believe that Jesus Christ is really present in the Eucharist. In the Eucharist we are united with Christ in a special way and with the Father through Christ. In our commitment to justice we are called to image Jesus in his own commitment. He identified himself with the poor and the marginated of his day and challenged those who had much to share themselves with those who had little. We receive in the Eucharist the same Christ who received the mission to "bring good news to the poor, to proclaim'liberty to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom for the oppressed" (Lk 4:18). God is the source of our compassion and our commitment to justice. We are to be "perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect" (Mr 5:48): loving, merciful, just. We come to the eucharistic table aware that we are not self-sufficient, that we need courage and commitment beyond our own ability and desire to be so. We are empowered to be Christ in our world through the nourishment that is the Eucharist. The Eucharist, however, is not simply a private devotion or only a per-sonal experience of the presence of God. It is personally strengthening, to be sure, if approached with openness and faith, but it is also outer-directed to the community gathered at each Eucharist and to the whole world. The Eucharist A Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice: H / 509 is global vision, for it is the Redemptive Act for the whole of humanity. It is not only at the center of our lives as Christians but also at the center of the world. The Eucharist is at the center of our commitment to social justice. It calls us out of ourselves to be like Jesus who gave himself in love and in total self-surrender to his friends. The Eucharist is self-gift, an open-ended gift of ourselves, for the many. The eucharistic table becomes the starting point of a great revolution, and the victims of this revolution are those who share the Eucharist. It is a call for a change of hearts, not a revolution in which the blood of others is shed, but one's own.4 Although it is undeniable that eucharistic celebrations build community among those who participate in them, Eucharist also calls us out to the suffer-ing people in our world, oppressed and oppressor alike. We are invited to be the Body of Christ, to be his memory in the world, to be his Body given for the many and his Blood poured out for the many.s Gospel values and realities relevant to the faith that does justice are abun-dantly present in the Eucharist. We begin our act of worship by acknowledg-ing to one another and to our brothers and sisters everywhere our complicity in the injustices of our time, both our personal sin and our lack of concern and commitment to changing indifferent and unjust social structures. We face our fears and timidity, our temptations to doubt and discouragement, our tenden-cies to try to do good without God, our temptations to build our identity in our works for justice, and we ask that the liberating power of God free us from whatever enslaves and paralyzes us. We ask too for reconciliation with our oppressed brothers and sisters whose hope in a more just world is to some degree dependent on our efforts to achieve justice. The Old and New Testaments challer~ge and invite us to participate in the liberating efforts of our time, to do justice, to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, to give to the blind new sight, and to set the downtrodden free. The Scriptures motivate us and support us in our efforts to transcend our own interest and to follow the call of God to universal compas-sion and solidarity, a call that influences how we act and how we live. The Eucharist helps us to a more fundamental identification with the materially poor and powerless as we cohtemplate Jesus identifying himself with the poor and the hungry. "In the Eucharist we receive Christ hungering in the world. He comes to us, not alone, but with the poor, the oppressed, the starving of the earth. Through him, they are looking to us for help, for justice, for love expressed in action. Therefore we cannot properly receive the Bread of Life unless at the same time we give bread for life to those in need wherever and whoever they may be.''6 ' Samuel Rayan, S.J., "Feeding of the Five-thousand: A Meditation," Religion and Society, Volo XX, No. 1, March 1973, pp. 5-7. ~ Ibid. ~ Pedro Arrupe, S.J~, "The Hunger for Bread and Evangelization," Address to the 41st Inter-national Eucharistic Congress, 1976, p. 1. 510 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 In a world that spawns alienation and various forms of dehumanization, the community that gathers around the table of the Lord speaks eloquently of other realities: true sisterhood and brotherhood, that the glory of God is people fully alive, human dignity, and the positive value of human develop-ment--. both materially and spiritually. The Eucharist calls us to accountability and responsibility for our world in a commitment that is rooted in the solitude of our hearts. Prayer The importance of prayer in a life dedicated to the faith lhat does justice cannot be overemphasized. There are so many forces and attractions that endeavor to steer one away from a consistent commitment to justice. Beyond one's occasional fears and hesitations to become involved, there are the anguish of those who are oppressed which can promote our :compassion but also tempt us to despair .and the obdurateness of social structures and the self-interest of those who manage them which can overwhelm and paralyze us. There are. also temptations to think that one is the Messiah and feelings of being rejected by one's community and friends when their commitment is dif-ferent from our own, which can result in bitterness and alienation. There are the temptations to permanent withdrawal from the struggle for justice or the tendency to opt for the values and life-style that one has spent a good deal of time.and effort opposing--the "good life." Prayer is essential if God is to re-main: the center of our commitment to justice. It is in the quiet moments .of prayer that we discover who our center is, our loving God or the idols that threaten to divert our attention and our commitment. Prayer--God's presence to us and our presence to God--is a key means~of deepening our relationship with the One who calls us to the ministry of faith and justice and of coming to know ourselves with true self-knowledge. However, just as the Eucharist has both a vertical and a horizontal dimen-sion so must our life of prayer: Our union with God leads us to loving service of the b.rothers,and sisters, and nourishes that commitment. Thomas Cullinan writes about it in this way: One df the great classical portrayals of the Buddh~ shows him sitting in the normal lotus position with his left hand upturned, holding a begging bowl, and his right hand resting on the other knee with one finger pointing down to earth. The left hand, the begging bowl, represents the need for enlightenment. The other hand, resting, poihting down to earth, represents the need for us to be embedded and realistic in the human condition in which we find ourselves. We cannot live anywhere other than where God has asked us to live. Any man of faith can tell one that the tension set up between these two hands, the tension between the need for enlightenment arid serious appreciation of the world we are in, is bound to cause great suffering, great loneliness. We can escape from this tension of living faith by taking the right hand of involvement, or the left hand of enlightenment, to the exclusion of the other. With the right hand; for instance, we can seek to be so relevant to our world that we finish up as humanists with a A Spirituality for ?he Ministry of Social Justice." mere Christian overlay. On the other left hand we can escape the tension-of living faith by constructing for ourselves an alternative society, a special world of Christians who have set UP something alternative to the world in which God has placed them., missing perhaps t~he central point of incarnafi.on.' We can escape the tension of living faith by making of our prayer a private experience of enthusiastic pietism that has no relevance to the political reality in which we live. 'True prayer leads us out of ourselves to be Christ in our world and discover him in others. The same can be said of mysticism as William Johnston writes: Authentic mystical experience necessarily brings with it a great love for all mankind. It can lead to remarkably deep friendship and intimacy in those who share the same ex-perience; it also leads to a great compassion for the poor, the sick, the oppressed, the downtrodden, the imprisoned, the underprivileged . This union or solidarity with the poor and the oppressed is of the very essence of Chrisiian mysticism.8 Prayer is essential for an effective ministry of faith and justice and for the ongoing integration process that is involved. We need, as Bryan Hehir points out, a sense of history as we go about our ministry of justice, a Christian sense of history that has in it the following dimensions: Ultimate success is the eschaton, every work done for justice is redemptive, the Cross marks every great work in the Church, and the risen life governs our perspective.9 Our times of reflection and solitude give us the opportunity to keep this sense and vision of history alive in our hearts. There are many forms of prayer and it is not the intent of this article to ex-plore in any depth the differ6nt ways one can pray. Obviously, shared prayer can be a very enriching experience, a chance to be strengthened in our mutual commitment and an opportunity to recogiaize and value our different insights and ways of responding to injustice. The author has found an annual retreat especially helpful in keeping one centered on the call of God and aware of one's tendencies to enslavement. Some form of ongoing spiritual direction, whether one does this primarily by means of a journal;and occasional sharing with a friend or by means of regular contact with a spiritual director, is a necessary component to one's prayer life, keeping a sense of objectivity and realism alive. We have already touched on the Eucharist which is a profound way of praying. - Not only is an unexamined life not worth living, it is dangerous. The forces of evil as they are embodied in unjust structures and the sinfulness of men and women are more powerful than us, even with our sophisticated tools of social ' Thomas Cullinan, O.S.B., lfthe Eye Be Sound (London, England: St. Paul Publications, 1975), pp. 56-58. * William Johnston, S.J., The Inner Eye of Love (New York: Harper and Row, 1978), p. 132. ' Ft. Bryan Hehir, "The Ministry for Justice," Network Quarterly, Vo. II, No. 3, Summer 1974, p. 4. 512 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 analysis. We need these tools, but even more basically we need union with God in prayer. God's love for us and our world and our growing realization of this personal concern of God gives us the hope and joy that we need to persevere with integrity in the struggle for a more just and human world. Conclusion Community-- Eucharist-- Prayer, each is necessary if we are to live on the level of meaning and not simply on the level of measured productivity or documented results. It is easy in the ministry of faith and justice to get so caught up in the latest issue or in the myriad of justice issues so as to lose the vision of why we are involved, a response to God's call to help build the kingdom. We need the support and challenge of friends. We depend on the nourishment that comes to us in the Eucharist. We rely on the guidance of the Holy Spirit whom we come into contact with in our prayer. God is the center of our commitment to social justice; it is God who calls us out of ourselves to be loving servants of others. Now Available As Reprint An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life Peter J. Kearney Father Kearney teaches Sacred Scripture. His address is The Catholic University of America; School of Religious Studies; Department of Theology; Washington, D.C. 20064. For those who seek to explore how the Bible relates the inner life to active ministry, reflection on the biblical symbols for life can provide rich discoveries. Symbols touch the deeper levels of the human person, the well-springs for both contemplation and action. It is frequently through symbols that the Scriptures speak, unfolding them and interrelating them to draw us into greater awareness of the life speaking within ourselves and to fruitful sharing of this word in ministry. The very first chapter of the Bible describes the origins of life and employs a paradox which sets the tone for many of the reflections that here follow: to live isto be active, but to live fully is simultaneously to be at rest. In creating, God first sets the stage for the appearance of living things. When the "living creatures" come on the fifth and sixth days, the earth is marked by activity and motion. On the seventh day, God is at rest, but with his work completed he is now most fully active, sustaining in creation all that he has made, for creation is a process that is ever continuing, ever renewed (see Ps 104, esp. vss. 27-30), He sustains his creation and remains always at rest, for he never grows weary (Is 40:21-28). He wills that his human creation share his repose, which is really a fullness of life (Ex 31:16-17; Is 40:29-31). Life and Kingship The above-mentioned texts from Genesis, Exodus and Isaiah all come from a relatively late period in Israel's history (the Babylonian Exile in the 513 514 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 sixth century B.C.), but they express ancient ideas on life which had earlier been associated with the royal dynasty of David. The one who most expressed the fullness of life on this earth was the king. For he had asked God for life and God "gave him length of days forever and ever" (Ps 21:5). The poetry of the psalms could attribute divine qualities to the king because he mediated God's blessings to the people and his rule, when properly carried out, expressed God's harmonious ordering of the universe (see Ps 72). Here Israel borrowed from a much more elaborate royal theology in Egypt, where the pharaoh was divinized to a far greater degree. In Egypt, the pharaoh could be regarded as a source of life in his kingdom because a di,vine spirit had been breathed into him by a god and this spirit became the power by which the pharaoh ruled.' This spirit issued in royal pronounce'rnents by which the life of Egypt was sustained. Likewise in Israel, in ideal conditions, the land could be at rest as though it were paradise itself, because the spirit of the Lord "rested" upon the king and enabled him to pronounce decrees which brought justice to the weak but death to the wicked (Is 11:1-9; see also 2 S 23:1-4). Such thinking clarifies the background of Genesis 2 and 3, where the creation and fall of man, while describing human nature in general, is actually a theology of Israelite kingship.2 The coronation of a king was his "being raised up from the dust" (1 K 16:2), just as Adam was formed from the dust of the earth (Gn 2:7).3 Like a king, Adam received the spirit or "breath of life" (Gn 2:7) and then could share in the divine rule, symbolized by his naming the animals (Gn 2:19-20). But unlike the pharaohs or other ancient kings who im-itated them, the Israelite king could make no claims to divinity and thus he was not to eat from the tree of the knowledge of all things, a property of God alone.' The narrative of Adam's failure to obey and his consequent expulsion from paradise is probably a polemic against the abuses of kingship perpetrated by Solomon, who patterned his absolute authority too closely on the Egyptian model. The story also opposes the pagan concept that a superior kind of knowledge (Gn 3:6) was available to those who sought communion with divine powers through the sexual practices of the Canaanite nature wor-ship. Thus the earth yields its fruits only to man's toil (Gn 3:17-19) and not because of the magical rites of the Canaanites. For the king, as for humans in general, the true wisdom is in knowing oneself as a creature of God and rejoic-ing in this condition. ' See W. Wifall, "The Breath and His Nostrils; Gn 2:7b," Catholic Biblical Quarterly 36 (1974), pp. 237-240~ 2 See W. Brueggemann, "David and His Theologian," Catholic Biblical Quarterly 30 (1968), pp. 156-181. ~ See W. Bruggemann, "From Dust to Kingship," Zeitschrift far die Alttestamentliche Wissenscttaft 84 (1972), pp. 1-18. ' See I. Engnell, " 'Knowledge' and 'Life' in the Creation Story" in M. Noth and D. Thomas (eds.), Wi~sdom in Israel and in the Ancient Near East (Supplements to Vetus Testamentum, 3; Leiden: Brill, 1969), pp. 103-119~ Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life The results of Adam's failu~ ~ire expressedas a life of wearisome toil upon an earth which resists man's efforts (Gn 3:17-19), a life of exile (Gn 3:23:24). Similarly, weariness, the disturbance of proper order and ultimately exile from the land could be readily associated with the failure of kingship. The prophet Isaiah,could accuse King Achaz of "wearying" both God and man through his failure to trust (Is 7:13). David may have had himself once crowned like a god (2 S 12:30), but his failure to maintain peace within his own family would lead to his own exile from Jerusalem in a procession of almost paralyzed weariness (2 S 15:14-16:14)5 which symbolized the disturbed order of the kingdom. But when the kingship functioned properly, it was as though the land itself had become paradise, and rest was restored. Such a state was symbolized through the figure of Noah (whose name sounds like the Hebrew word for "rest").~ The peaceful rule of the king was expressed figuratively through his holding the waters of chaos in check (Pss 72:8 and 89:26). In the story of Noah, the waters of chaos subside and creation is begun anew (Gn 9:7). God's eternal covenant with Noah (Gn 9:16) symbolizes the Davidic covenant (2 S 23:5), part of God's order in creation (Ps 89:35-38). Light and Truth A further significant borrowing from Egyptian thought was expressed in the Israelite use of sun imagery. In Egypt, the sun was worshipped as the source and sustainer of life. In paintings and carvings, the sun disc was pic-tured with wings, as though it were a huge bird making.its daily flight across the sky, There are traces of such imagery in Israelite poetry.7 When the Israelites were making their way through the desert after the Exodus, God was said to have "spread his wings to receive them," carrying them triumphantly forward (Dt 32:11). Here the symbol of eagle wings is applied to God because the extremely high flight of theeagle made it the most likely bird to provide the symbolism for the wings of the sun. Such metaphor was intended to express the desert period of Israel as a life-giving experience, through the use of the natural symbol for the source of life, the sun. Much later, during the period of the Babylonian Exile, similar imagery could be used to mark the end of exile and therefore of weariness: just as the eagle's long life was imaginatively thought to be due to his high flight near the rays of the sun, similarly "they that hope in the Lord will renew their strength, they will soar as with eagles' wings; they will run and not grow weary, walk and not grow faint" (Is 40:31). The symbol of the wings of God becomes particularly rich in a number of ' R. Whybray, The Succession Narrative: A Study of !i S 9-20 and 1 K I and 2 (Studies in Biblical Theology, Second Series, 9; Naperville: Allenson, 1968), p. 46. 6 See W. Brueggemann, "Weariness, Exile and Chaos (A Motif in Royal Theology)," Catholic Biblical Quarterly 34 (1972), pp. 19-38. ' See J. Murtagh, "Under the Shadow ofthy Wings," TheBible Today, no. 32, November 1967, pp. 2229-2232. 516 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 the psalms. Even though during the religious reform of King Josiah, sun sym-bols were removed from the Jerusalem temple (2 K 23:11), some managed to survive in the hymns which were sung in that temple. For example, Psalm 61 presents the king at prayer (see vs. 7), asking that God give him "rest" and place him "high upon a rock" (the royal throne, see vs. 8); he expresses his longing to take refuge in the shadow of God's wings, thus poetically attributing the life-giving rays of the sun to God, and presenting himself as the one filled with life from God, much as was the pharaoh who transmitted the life-giving rays of the sun to the people by means of his wise and effective rule.8 Elsewhere the pilgrim psalmist rejoices to see the sparrows and swallows sheltering their young in nests built on the temple (Ps 84:4). No doubt this sight specially touched him because it paralleled.his own relationship to God, whom he calls in this same psalm "a sun and a shield" (vs. 12). Such a background clarifies Jesus' complaint against Jerusalem "How often 1 wanted to gather your children together as a mother bird collects her young under her wings, and you refused me" (Lk 1,3:34). Jesus in effect was calling the people to recognize that the life-giving Presence of God which they had associated with the Temple was actually found in him. Because they did not recognize this, their temple would be abandoned (vs. 35). Luke here approaches the theology of John, whose prophecy about the destruction of the Temple contained an allusion to the raising up of the real Temple, the body of Jesus (Jn 2:19-21). Just as the sun is a natural symbol for life, so its brilliance aptly suggests the clarity of knowledge and truth. Thus light can signify the experience of revelation, a sensing of God's personal presence in the temple. In Psalm 36, the author praises God's goodness in having "the children of men take refuge in the shadow of your wings" and exclaims "in your light we see light," that is, the people draw their life from the living God in his temple (vss. 8, 10). In Psalm 27, the king calls God "my light" upon whose loveliness he wishes to gaze in the temple, in an experience of revelation so intimate that it can be described as face-to-face encounter (vss. 4, 8, 9) with One whose tenderness lasts even though that of father and mother might fail (vs. 10). The light of knowledge can also reveal God more indirectly through the maxims of human wisdom and the revealed word of God expressed in Israel's laws and religious traditions. In the case of wisdom thought, Egypt once more supplied a mythological theme, the person of Maat, daughter of the sun god Ra and goddess of justice, order and harmony. She is probably the source for the feminine personification of wisdom in Proverbs 8 and 9, where she invites the youthful-Israelite to come learn of her wisdom contained throughout the book of Proverbs.9 Her pagan origins from the sun express the theme of light s For the role of pharaoh, see, for example, "The Hymn to the Aton" in J. Pritchard (ed.), An-cient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament (Princeton University, 1955), pp. 369-37 I. ° See N. Habel, "The Symbolism of Wisdom in Pr I-9" Interpretation 26 (1972), pp. 131-157. Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life / 517 as the knowledge and wisdoha ~hrough wtiicli mhn can integrate himself into ¯ the universe, which the brilliance of the sun seems to unite in a harmonious whole. This wisdom in the book of Proverbs sometimes appears to be merely practical advice about how to get along in life (e.g., Pr 23), but it is in fact the expression of a deeply moral sense.'° The light of life penetrates deep within man: "A lamp from the Lord is the breath of man: it searches through all his inmost being" (Pr 20:27). Similarly, the light of God's knowledge touches the recesses of man's moral life, penetrating deep in his heart: "The nether world and the abyss lie open before the Lord; how much more the hearts of men" (Pr 16:11). In this saying, the scribe profits from the symbol of the sun apparently going into the world of darkness each evening and uses it to present an image of God seeing deep into the heart of each one. In Psalm 139, the king marvels at this intimate knowledge of him which God possesses (vss. 1-6) and then applies solar attributes to God," praising his brilliance and his omnipresence (vss. 7-12). God's knowledge awakens in the king a strong sense of moral obligation to which he professes his conscience has remained faithful (vss. 23-24). This joining of divine solar imagery and the human response of virtuous practice can be found also in Psalm 112, reen forc-ing the understanding that life has an intrinsically moral dimension. Such thought is echoed in Jesus' words about light as a symbol for personal morali-ty: "The eye is the body's lamp. If your eyes are good, your body will be filled with light; if your eyes are bad, your body will be in darkness. And if your light is darkness, how deep will the darkness be!" (Lk 6:22-23). The Old Testament association between wisdom, morality and light is also distantly echoed in the Epistle of James, which calls God "the Father of~the heavenly luminaries" (Jm 1:17), who gives a "wisdom from above" (3:17), expressed in the moral counsels which pervade the epistle. Israelite thought also applied such language not merely to a general theory of human life, but also to the wisdom which it possessed in its own peculiar religious traditions, grouped under the general heading "law." With regard to specifically legal traditions, just as the Babylonian king, Hammurabi, presented his lawcode as written in obedience to the sun god,'2 so the Israelite king could regard the laws by which he ruled as expressing the wisdom and life-giving power symbolized.by the sun. In Psalm 19, the king describes the harmonious unity of the world, in particular the path of the sun across the sky (vss. 2-7) and then praises the divine precepts as filled with the qualities of the sun: "refreshing the soul., giving wisdom., rejoicing the heart., enlighten-ing the eye., enduring forever" (vss. 8-10). To move beyond the merely legal ,o R. Murphy, "Introduction to Wisdom Literature," Jerome Biblical Commentary (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1968), 28:8. ~'J. Holman, "Analysis of the Text of Ps 139" (Biblische Zeitschrift 14 (1970), p. 225. ,2 See "The Code of Hammurabi" in Pritchard (ed.) Ancient Near Eastern Texts, p. 163. 518 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 traditions, the prophet Ezekiel was no doubt alluding to this same psalm when he said the word of God was "as sweet as honey" (compare Ps 19:11 and Ezk 3:3).' Even though it was a word of doom (Ezk 2:10), upon itdepended the life of both sinner andjust and even Ezekiel himself (3:18-21). Similarly, the legal and historical Israelite traditions in the Book of Deuteronomyhave life-giving properties.Since Deuteronomy represents the religious reform of Josiah and his attempt to purify Israelite religion of its pagan associations, sun sym-bolism is muted here. Moses warns specifically against worship of the sun or any of the celestial bodies (Dt 4:19), but the ancient symbolic association between sunlight and truth is still discernible in his words. Moses' rhetorical challenge to seek through the days of old sii~ce creation and "from one end of the sky to the other" alludes to the eternal path of the sun through the heavens (Dr 4:32); in this same chapter, he has the nations themselves profess that the traditions in Deuteronomy are a sign both of God's intimate relationship with his people and of their great wisdom, two themes traditionally associated with sun symbolism (Dr 4:6-7). Such language prepares for Moses telling the Israelites that there is no need to seek God's command up in "the sky or across the sea; it is rather in their own mouths and hearts (Dt 30: l 1-14). In effect, there is no need to follow the path of the sun, as symbolic source of wisdom. The laws of Deuteronomy, which the people will have thoroughly learned, embody the wisdom they need. Thus Moses can exhort them to "choose life" (30:19), that is, to assimilate the life-giving property which the traditions of Deuteronomy contain. Against this remote background of solar imagery, several aspects of John's gospel are clarified. The entire work conveys a sense of repose, of li.fe in its fullness, possessed by Jesus and communicated to his disciples, Jesus is in the Father and the Father is in him (10:38) and Jesus promises that they will both dwell within the one who is faithful to Jesus' word (14:23). His fullness of life is paradoxically expressed through Jesus' word (14:23). His fullness of life is paradoxically expressed through Jesus' complete control of the cir-cumstances, which surround his death. Gone from this gospel is the agony in the garden. Jesus tranquilly goes to face his captors (18:4-9) and'ultimately bows his head after a solemn proclamation that his work was finished (19:30). John allows the s6tting of Jesus' death to be permeated with an atmosphere of life, thus' giving dramatic expression to his theology that the raising up of Jesus on the cross was simultaneously a raising up to glory (8:27; 12:32), that his death is a source of life(l 2:24). In addition, the protective presence of God which had been revealed to Israelites in the temple is now revealed in Jesus. This presence had been announced during liturgy in Old Testament times by formulas such as "l, the Lord, am your God" (Ex 20:2) and "I am the first and I am the last" (Is 44:6); throughout John's gospel Jesus echoes such expressions, identifying himself, for example, as the Vine, the Good Shepherd, the Resurrection and Life and thus conveys that the life-giving presence of God in the temple is now to be found in Jesus' own person. Seeing Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life God in the temple now happens in a new way, for one can look upon Jesus and see the Father (14:9). Of course, the themes of light and life repeatedly inter-twine throughout John's gospel. As in the Old Testament, this light is closely related to knowledge, revelation and truth; also, this truth has a strong moral dimension, for the light which Jesus brings is expressed in what the Father has commanded (12:46-50) and those who are loved by the Father obey the com-mandments Jesus gives (14:21), all summarized in the commandment of love 05:9-17). Just as the Israelite king ruled with justice (Ps 72), so Jesus associates his own kingship with the truth which is a life-filled communion with God: ". I am a king., the reason why I came into the world is to testify to the truth" (Jn 18:37). The.moral dimension of truth is further expressed by speaking of the light as showing the way one should walk (l 1:9-10; 12:35-36). It receives its fullest formulation when Jesus proclaims that he is the Way, the Truth and the Life (14:6), thus indicating that union with God reaches its fullness through union with the person of the risen Jesus. Implied in this union is a sharing in the "sabbath rest" of God himself, a life-filled, activity-filled rest which belongs unceasingly to Jesus, who revealed on a sabbath day that "My Father is at work until now, and I am at work as well" (5:17). Several other New Testament Passages express a similar theology of life, among them Jesus' praise of his Father and invitation to his disciples in Mt 11:25-30. Jesus proclaims the mutual knowledge between Father and Son, suggesting the intimacy frequently found in the gospel of John. As in this lat-ter gospel, the Son can reveal the Father to those whom he wishes (Mt 11:27). He then offers to the weary a promise of refreshment and rest, which is actually a fullness of life. Speaking after the manner of ancient kings, Jesus proclaims his gentleness in ruling, and by means of the symbol of a yoke, invites his followers to obey his commandments, much as he does more explicitly in the gospel of John. In Matthew, the teaching of Jesus is likened to a "yoke," a symbol which stands for the discipline needed to achieve wisdom (Si 51:26) and which reenforces the association between Jesus' commands and the truth. Also in the gospel of Mark, Jesus holds out an invitation to his disciples to come with him and rest (6:31). One might think that the crowds who then followed Jesus were disturbing this rest, but they rather come and share in it. Here Mark subtly alludes to Psalm 23, in which the king, shepherd of his people, proclaims that the Lord is his own shepherd who gives him rest in green pastures, saving him from the darkness which is the threat of enemy powers and showing him the right paths by which he may govern the kingdom in justice. The king celebrates this intimate relationship with God in the tem-ple, where a festive banquet is spread before him. In Mark 6:30-44, these themes are echoed as Jesus looks with pity on the crowds who are like sheep without a shepherd. He teaches them at great length; we are to understand that his words are a source of life to them, parallel to the wise proclamation of 520 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 the ancient kings. The meal of bread and fish is distributed as the people are seated on the green grass. Here there is no temple, but the passage retains a liturgical atmosphere, for the meal clearly symbolizes the Eucharist. The peo-ple eat their fill and give symbolic expression to the life-giving property of this sacrament, given, as Jesus elsewhere says, so that the people may not grow weary along the way (Mk 8:3). This scene in Mark 6 can lead in turn back to the gospel of John, for it shows why the theme of the Good Shepherd (Jn 10) is apropos in a gospel concerned with the theme of life in its fullness: "I came that they might have life and have it to the full" (10:10). Food and Water The multiplication of the loaves in Mk'6 also illustrates the association between the word of God spoken by Jesus and food. They can be related inasmuch as they both sustain life. Such a connection can be found in the traditions about Elijah, who announces a drought that will last until he says otherwise (1 K 17:1). However, for the poor widow whom he visits, his word provides a supply of food that will continue through the drought. This story contains the same central theme as that expressed in the subsequent episode, when the prayer of Elijah causes the widow's son to come back to life, namely, the life-giving power of God's word spoken through his servant Elijah. As in Genesis 2-3, there is strong polemic here against the claims of the Canaanite religion to impart life through nature worship.'3 This opposition reaches its greatest intensity when the command given by Elijah spells death for the four hundred Canaanite prophets (1 K 18:40). A similar theology of God's word is probably contained in Exodus 16, where the manna is given in sufficient supply for all, provided the people follow exactly God's instructions for gathering it (vss. 4, 18).'4 The mention of the manna tasting like honey (vs. 31) probably alludes to the sweet taste of God's law proclaimed in Ps 19:11. In Dt 8:3, the link between God's word and the manna is made quite clearly: the Israelites' nourishment with manna was a sign that "not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of the Lord." Jesus' use of these words during his temptation in the desert (Mt 4:4) shows that his fasting is a symbolic dying, a depriving himself of one means of sus-taining life, so that he might be filled with another, God's word.'~ Such im-agery is also well established in several prophets. Amos likened the absence of God's word to a famine (Am 8:11-12) and Jeremiah spoke of "devouring" the words of God (Jn 15:16); Ezekiel elaborated on Jeremiah's imagery by an '~ See F. Eakin, "Yahwism and Baalism before the Exile," Journal of Biblical Literature 84 0965), pp. 407-414. " For additional material on the symbolic character of Ex 16, see C~ Carmichael, "Deuteronomic Laws, Wisdom, and Historical Traditions," Journal of Semitic Studies 12 (1967), pp. 198-206. '~ On fasting as "dying," see T. Gaster, Thespis: Ritual, Myth and Drama in the Ancient Near East (Anchor Books; Garden City: Doubleday, 1961), pp. 26-34. Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life / 52"1 allusion to Ps 19 in describing his eating the scroll of God's word and finding it sweet as honey (Ezk 3:3). In John's gospel, Jesus speaks of having food to eat of which his disciples do not know, namely, the doing of his Father's will (Jn 4:32-34). Later, after giving bread and fish to his disciples at the lake shore, he commands Peter to "feed my sheep" (Jn 21:17), a charge which in the context of John's gospel undoubtedly means allowing the sheep to hear the "voice" of the Good Shepherd 00:3-5, 16), much as they heard his teaching in Mark's gospel, when they ate bread and fish supplied by Jesus (Mk 6:34). Such passages establish the close bond between word and sacrament in Christian eucharistic theology, as most clearly expressed when the disciples on the road to Emmaus recog-nized Jesus in the breaking of the bread, but only after having their hearts prepared through Jesus' explanation of the Scriptures (Lk 24:31-32). Israel expressed its reflections on life also through the natural symbol of water. In the creation account of Genesis 2, the stream which waters all the surface of the earth provides the clay from which man is made (vss. 6-7) and a river in Eden is the source of fertility in the garden (vs. 10). This river should be understood as a further specification of the stream in vs. 6, for it divides into four branches (vs. 10), symbolizing the four directions of the earth and thus marking out Eden as the source of life for all the earth. Such symbolism had a concrete application to the Jerusalem temple, which was regarded as a representation of the garden of Eden and thus through poetic imagination was provided with "a stream whose runlets gladden the city of God, the holy dwelling of the Most High" (Ps 46:5). Once again, as with the imagery of the eagle wings, the temple stands as a source of life for the people. The most dramatic elaboration of such symbolisn~ can be found in Ezekiel's vision of the stream which flowed from the temple (Ezk 47) and grew to a mighty river changing the Dead Sea into fresh water filled with fish. The trees along its banks, with their copious fruit and medicinal leaves are an adaptation of'the tree of life from which Adam and Eve were permitted to eat. This association between the temple and healing helps to understand why Israelite liturgy, as a source of life, implied forgiveness of sin in its very performance, a belief against which various prophets struggled when such healing was understood as occurring automatically (e,g., Am 5:21-25; I~ 66:3). Since sunlight and water were both perceived as natural symbols for life, there are several other ways in which water symbolism coincides with that of light, most notably in the role assigned to the king and also to the command-ments of God. In 2 S 23, the images of sun and water coalesce when it is proclaimed that the king "is like the morning light at sunrise on a cloudless morning, making the greensward sparkle after rain" (vs. 4). The state of "rest," a synonym for "life," is associated with water as the king thanks God for leading him "beside restful waters" (Ps 23:2). The state of war is a threat to this rest and so when the king faces enemies, he speaks of himself as af-flicted with a thirst which symbolizes his nearness to death: "My throat is 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 dried up like baked clay, my tongue cleaves to my jaws; to the dust of death you have brought me down" (Ps 22:16). The natural experience of thirst in battle (see Jg 5:15-19) allows the king to express his desire for victory as a long-ing for water: "As the hind longs for the running waters, so my soul longs for you, O God (Ps 42:2). Do me justice, O God, and fight my fight against a faithless people" (Ps 43: l ; Psalms 42 and 43 were originally a single psalm). ,6 When the victory comes, it can be symbolically expressed through the slaking of the king's thirst: "From the brook by the wayside he will drink; therefore will he lift up his head" (Ps 110:7). The life which he has absorbed, he then transmits to his kingdom through the just exercise of his power: "He shall be like rain coming down on the meadow, like showers watering the earth. Justice shall flower in his days." (Ps 72:6). A just rule is carried out within the framework of just laws, enacted in con-formity with God's will. Thus water symbolism can be readily applied to laws insofar as they are life-giving, particula~'ly so because water is life-giv.ing when it is transformed from a chaotic force into channeled streams and into rainfall that comes in the proper, well-ordered time. Thus in Genesis 1, life can begin upon the earth once the chaotic waters have been assigned their proper place (Gn 1:6-11). In similar fashion, several psalms contrast the tumultuous primeval waters with the life-giving streams and rains which result from the divine ordering of the seas (Pss 46:3-6; 65:8-14; 104:5-18). Thus the decrees of God, ordering the life of man, can be compared to life-giving water. When Moses changed the bitter waters into fresh because he followed the directions of God, his action could be joined to the notice that the Lord there gave the Israelites laws which would let them.experience his life-giving healing power (Ex 15:22-26). Later on, an episode in the area of Horeb, the place for receiv-ing commandments from God, seems to have been transformed by an editor into a scene at the Jerusalem temple (Ex 17:1-16). The water from the rock at Horeb symbolizes both the commands of God and the water associated with the mountain of the Lord in Jerusalem (see Ps 46:5). MoseS seated high on a rock with his arms outstretched and growing weary resembles the king in the psalms, enthroned on a high rock and stretching forth his arms in prayer as he grows weary against his enemies (Pss 61:3; 62:5; 143:6-7). Just as in these psalms the king places his hope in a faithful following of God's will, so the people receive their strength from faithfulness to God's commands, symbol-ized by the water from Horeb. Such theology is quite close to that of the prophet Isaiah, who combined in his own fashion the themes of water, rest, and trustful adherence to the com-mands of God. For Isaiah, the gently flowing waters of Shiloah, which sup-plied Jerusalem with water and perhaps also suggested to him the motif of the See note on Psalm 42-43 in the New American Bible {Paterson: St. Anthony Guild, 1970). Understanding the Biblical Symbols for Life / 523 "stream flowing from the Temple," symbolized the quiet trust of faith which was a source of life for Israel; because the people rejected this gentle stream, the waters of the Euphrates River, that is the destructive power of Assyria, would engulf them with its chaotic force (8:6-8). Jerusalem was meant to be a place of rest for the weary, that is, a center of life for the people (28:12), but the king of Judah rejected faith and thus brought weariness (7:13). This rest could be achieved if only the king would cease seeking aid from foreign powers (30:2, 15, ] 6; 31 : l) and provide for just rule within his own kingdom,'7 giving a share of life to the poor and defenseless among his own people (1 : 17, 5:22-23; 10:1-4). Far from being an expression of inactivity, the theme of rest and quiet in Isaiah is a call to reform to a just distribution of wealth according to God's will, so that Jerusalem could again be a center of life, a city of rejoic-ing: "Justice will bring about peace; right will produce calm and security. My people.will live in peaceful country, in secure dwellings and quiet resting places. Look to Zion, the city of our festivals; let your eyes see Jerusalem as a quiet abode" (32:17-18; 33:20). The waters of life is a theme of special richness in the Gospel of John 18. '~ In the story of the wedding feast at Cana (Jn 2:1-12), the jars of water are pro-vided according to the rules for ceremonial washings and thus the water can aptly symbolize the Jewish law. The wine is a familiar symbol for messianic fulfillment ,(e.g., Ho 14:8) and here expresses the centrality of Jesus who replaces the Law as God's 'primary means of revelation. The episode of the Samaritan woman (Jn 4:1-42) employs a clearer allusion to the imagery of revelation in the symbol of "living water," that is, water which both flows and symbolizes life; here the source of this "living water" is Jesus rather than the biblical traditions symbolized by the well of Jacob. This "replacement" theme continues in John 7 and 8 in connection with the Feast of Booths. This ancient autumn harvest,festival, at which the Israelites joyfully thanked God for his blessings and prayed for a fruitful harvest in the months ahead, com-bined the symbols of sunlight and water, both naturally associated with the fertility of the fields. Probably Psalm 84, a pilgrimage song which calls God a '°'sun" (vs. 12) and sings of the "early rain" of autumn (vs. 7), was part of this festival. The temple was the scene of illumination and water libation during this feast, but now the new center of life is the person of Jesus, God's new tem-ple (Jn 2:21), as he proclaims during the festival that he is "the light of the world" (8:12) and the source from which living waters shall flow to give life to those who believe (7:37-38). These waters finally do flow from the body of Jesus on the cross, when the soldier pierces him with a lance (19:34-35). In ac- ~7 For the idea that "being still" in Isaiah refers to a gradual reform from within the nation, I am indebted to Rev. Henri Cazelles. ,8 For most of what follows on the theme of water in John, see R. Brown, The Gospel According to John (The Anchor Bible, 29 and 29a; Garden City: Doubleday, 1966 and 1970). 524 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/4 cord with John's theology th

Issue 37.4 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS iS edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July, 1978 Volume 37 Number 4 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW VOa RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. The Prayer of Darkness Carol Jean Vale, S.S.J. Sister Carol Jean is on the staff of St. Joseph Academy; Main Street; McSherrystown, PA 17344. An earlier contribution of Sister Carol Jean was "God, Community and the Religious Person" (September, 1976). The prayer of darkness shadows the human spirit after a moment of unparalleled, penetrating, haunting luminescence. For a moment God's life blazes in the center of the heart with an energy and vitality never previously perceived. So intensely does he reveal himself that it seems as though we are for the first time entering into life. Present existence appears dulled and unreal in the advent of so dynamic a presence. Dt~ring this experience we f~el so free that we could willingly surrender all to him and enter forever into this extraordinary existence so strangely, familiar and familiarly strange. The whole of our person ignites into a Conflagration of burning love and flaming longing for the living God. With false certainty, our intellect assures us that, finally, we have arrived at the. point of union with the transcendent Being] A radiating peace suffuseg our person and joy explodes in the rhythm of our hearts. " Such an experience may occur only once with tremendous power and potency, or it may recur over a relatively brief period of time for a few minutes dispersed through the c~3urse of several days or weeks. In the latter case, a loving Father gentles us along' slipping in and out of presence. Then--all goes black. Night descends. What remains of the experience is a living memory so real, so vivid that it charges the absence with an almost physical anguish of longing. This memory sustains us .through the darkness as it reminds us of the presence we seek and cannot now perceive. The keen remembrance of his presence is God's gift--it is spiritual food for the desert 481 482 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 of purification, for the night of daikness. The intense experience of God imprints on our spirit a knowledge of the destination to which we afe journeying. Indelibly inscribed in our hearts is the memory 0fthe presence of the God towards whom we are on pilgrimage. As the light within us to darkness dims, the flicker of the flame of his presence fires our minds with the knowledge that even in the darkness his Unseen presence shines. The memory of the light gives a vision of the journey's end though the way is charged with dark uncertainty. The value of this prayer of darkness is that it stretches us to the very limits of our being. It calls forth the essence of the energy of life even as it empties us of the essence of the power of death. Darkness breeds out the selfish desires, the egotistical goals, the hidden plottings of the covered and unknown subconscious. This prayer reveals us to ourselves as we are in God's sight and it empowers us to surrender to his transforming vision. While the sensible presence of God evades our questing, his unper-ceived presence burns our spirit to new depths of holiness. To view this process would be to die from too much revelation, so the darkness conceals the blinding fires of God's blazing furnace. The prayer of darkness is de-signed to lead us to a faith that slowly reveals the Fa~her--a gentle light glowing in the core of our inmost being. This light fires itself into the "living flame of love" only at the price of total surrender, absolute denial, con-summate purification. It seems strange that what is supposed to be so good pains us so terribly. The healing touch of God, like the knife of the diligent surgeon, stabs pain into the firm skin of our insidious sinfulness. Each moment of intense touching leaves the recipient reeling in a vacuum of tenebrity and agony. This darkness, which grows seemingly more and more impenetrable, slowly tempers us to withstand a light eqiaal in luminosity to the density of its opaque blaCkness. Phototropic like the seedling, we grow lightwards only at the cost of piercing the dark earth, dirt grain by dirt grain. The process of ascent proceeds slowly, and demands a careful scrutiny of each grain of sin and imperfection before that minute piece of earth moves aside and allows us to pass on to the next invariably different grain. The darkness of this night uncovers the darkness lurking within our own hearts. We behold ourselves as sinners even as we behold God's holiness as it floods the shores of our minds with the incredible truth of its potency. Such knowledge leads us deeper into the night where we know instinctively that we will be bared to the dark rays of a light powerful enough to eradicate the effects of sin~s tenacious grasp. It becomes clear to us that each at-tachment or need must be displaced. All that is not God must be relin-quished. EvEn our most secret loves must be released. Those attachments to which we cling unaware must be cauterized by a dark and unrelenting fire which flames secretly within us. Aware only of the darkness, we often fail to see the new light that slowly emerges as even those sins we knbw not become purified by the heat of the furnace of God. Such darkness is the price of vision. The Prayer of Darkness / 483 Early in formation we learned that the absence of God's consolation in prayer is an experience that everyone undergoes to a greater or lesser intensity. Yet, no matter how much we have read, heard, or pondered, when the night descends panic and question envelop us as well. We knew it would be painful, but never did we expect this degree of agony. We knew it would touch our lives with trials, but not that it would pierce into every corner of our lives demanding conversion. We knew that we needed purification, but not that we required the intensity of an inferno to burn away our ingrained loves. We knew that it would last a long time, but not that it might stretch out over years of molding, remolding, and molding yet again. For some reason, we do not actually believe that we are as sinful as the degree of purification would indicate. We fail to understand that he wants all, really all, and that he will stop at nothing to strip us of the affections that hold us back from the vision of his face. Perhaps the cross tests a dimension of man never explored by joy. Suffering and joy meet only in the moment of God. Joy draws us to the heights while suffering carves in us new caverns of depth. It is analogous to the. reflection of a high mountain in a limpid blue, crystal-mirroring lake. If the mountain's height could be perfectly scaled into the waters of the luminous lake it would, accurately represent the effect that suffering has on joy. The deeper the suffering the higher the'joy, reaching into the altitude of God. The cross tries the ability to endure, to expand in consciousness, to sail the seas of unknown mystery and to chart the oceans of unexplored inner space. Suffering is the vehicle that alone lets us enter and safely travel in the atmosphere of joy that.transfuses the divine milieu. It is the quality of our dying that determines the quality of our living. To the degree that we have been stripped and emptied will we be inner-directed and unshackled. The more deeply God has penetrated the uncircumcised regions of our hearts, the more freely will we be able to enter into the current of life unencumbered by our own dreams of success and hopes for self-glorification. The existential moment holds untold opportunities for life-choices birthed out~ of our death to callousness, indifference, and egoism. The death of the prayer of darkness draws Us out of ourselves. To survive the struggle it becomes imperative to forget self. If pain turns inward we become small, selfish, bitter, and self-pitying. Only an outward movement insures growth and new depths of holiness. Pain drives us be-yond the confines of the narrow world of "I" to consider, embrace, and compassionate with others. The' night of darkness bestows a new sense, of oneness with all other people for it puts us deeply in touch with the ground of their being. As we come to understand who we are, and who God is we learn to understand who others are and who God is in them. Our outward orientation toward God in pr.ayer seeps over into our everyday lives, be-coming an outward orientation toward others. ,. Trials which tear at every area of our lives characterize this dark 4~14 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 prayer--rejection by, or difficulties in community, lack of understanding on the part of friends, dissatisfaction with our apostolate, family difficulties or deaths, poor health, self-doubt, scrupulosity, lack of fulfillment even in those areas where we once met fulfillment. No created thing seems to be sufficient. There is a gnawing emptiness with the temporal and transient, even the eternal God rests silently in the dark impenetrable stillness of our being. This is but another way that the Lord strips us and shows us the emptiness of an existence apart from him. It is his way to mold our value system. In this state of dark uncertainty, he shapes us to image the design of his heart as each aspect of life reduces or enlarges to its proper pro-portion. Gradually the heart comes to cent(r solely on Jesus as Lord rec-ognizing him as the focal point of all living. The deeper we journey into the night the more we become absorbed in God. Indeed, we continually search for him in the midst of the darkness. At every turn, in every corner of ourselves we quest for some glimpse of the presence that more and more preoccupies our waking and even sleeping moments. The more elusive this lover the more ardently we seek him. Fear that we are not serving him stalks the inner caverns of our minds and we strive more totally to be faithful in the smallest details of our daily living. We are driven to perform voluntary acts of love knowing that such acts will draw us more deeply into the fire and more totally into him. Willing, joyful choices of self-death insure willing, joyful life-choices. Fasting, penance, self-giving constitute forms of self-immolation that seed new life in the fertile soil of the human spirit. The desire to fast from food is a form of death that disciplines the will to choose to fast from death-dealing words and actions. Penance forges in the deepest person a new desire to go beyond the narrow confines of self in an effort to direct our energies in service to others. Each time we transcend ourselves to serve the other we die a little more to that spirit of selfishness that holds us back from God and from those he loves. These active forms of voluntary self-death cannot even begin to approximate the depths of new found freedom wrought by the power of God's purification, but they are our contribution to the night of fire. Blessed is he or she who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in the question of its presence. This person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity. The more we submit to the fire of tempering the sooner we will find the inferno subsiding. If such generosity does not characterize our attitude, we can ponder the authenti(ity of the prayer itself. The night should birth in us greater service, increased prayer, deeper love of others, As the darkness washes the spirit with new life that life should begin to emerge and become visible to those whom we meet. It is a fire whose by-products are the fruits of the Holy Spirit. All the gifts with which we were endowed at baptism and confirmation become activated as the night of fire frees them from their The Prayer of Darkness / 41t5 resting place in the well of our person. New energy is released and life pours forth to the surface of our lives. The inward darkness more and more manifests itself as outward light. It is a pain that stimulates active concern for others as it burns away the self-concern that is an integral part of our sinful condition. The prayer of darkness is, then, a consuming, non-consuming fire. Our sinful and secret affinities are incinerated and purified while our spirit is filled with a new energy and power for creative living. At the night's be-ginning, we see the fire of God in a moment of intense, indwelling presence. Throughout the night itself the fire's action is so volatile that the flames are hidden from the eyes. The living God ravishes the heart and turns it toward himself. As the night ends we again behold the fire within--the fire that is the God of light dwelling in the ground of our being. This prayer teaches that the vision of God is given only to those who have endured the night of the cross. The prayer of darkness delivers ou~: bodies to the instrument of puri-fication. On this wood we are scourged, immolated, and ultimately con-secrated. To be crucified one must stretch out the whole length of his body. Such a body defies the power of death. It cannot be held. The tension toward life is too great. The body has been stretched beyond the point of death's power. Powerless, defenseless, and weak, the crucified body re-linquishes itself in an act of total faith. "In weakness, my power reaches perfection." This body enters the state of total surrender and in that stance the Lord of life invadeS the human spirit and fills it with the power and strength and light of the life of God. This action constitutes the purpose Of the prayer of darkness. It crucifies the human spirit and purifies it so that once faith becomes the habitual attitude of personal presence to God and others, the Trinity may reveal its dwelling.place in the now light-filled inner space of the heart's secret chamber. God himself has carved out his kingdom in our hearts. Suffused with an atmosphere of faith, irradiated with the light of Jesus Christ, powered by the energy of the Holy Spirit, sacralized by the presence of the Father, this secret room pulses with divine presence. To this dwelling place of God comes the person readied for betrothal. The night of darkness ended, the human spirit basks in the light of God gently flaming in the secret chamber of his fire-tendered heart. The night of darkness is the furnace of God, the birth-bed of life, the dark forger of light. Endured in all of its terrible intensity it creates new space for living. Once ended the night heralds the dawn of the day of forever, the momentless moment of visionless vision. Two Models of Christian Spirituality Val J. Peter Father Peter, a priest of the Archdiocese o.f Omaha, is currently associate professor of theol, ogy at Creighton University; 2500 California St.; Omaha, NE 68178. A I. Case Studies in Confusion young religious complains of problems of vacillation in his prayer life, his relations with others, and his self-concept. These three are generally good when he is performing well. But he has discovered since leaving the novitiate that virtue is not virtue unless there is a realistic alternative. So when his performance inevitably falters, so does his ability to pray. And because his self-concept is also diminished, he really cannot relate "to anyone on a deeper level. At times he is so gripped with a sense of un-worthiness and shame that he is not open to people around him. Because of this he feels intense loneliness and really feels ashamed to express his difficulties to anyone. Often he is paralyzed by an intense introspective-ness, constantly questioning his motives for every'thing. A retired religious finds herself becoming increasingly angry and bitter at her religious order. She was told in the novitiate to strive for perfection, "never be happy with yourself,." andalways try to please. During her long teaching career she was what many considered a model of obedience, piety, and hard work. Now she is old and sick and shunted off into a corner of a retirement home. Since she has outlived her usefulness, she findsJ herself shorn of any self-worth. Her source of securit~ is shattered. She is bitter and angry at the way she was trained, the way she lived, and the way she is now treated. A religious in her thirties has been in counseling for some months. She complains of being increasingly unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 4117 result o fan intense romantic affair of short duration some years previously. She blames a book she read on sex and celibacy for the trouble she got herself into. In her mind God simply will not forgive her so she cannot forget. A former religious talks cynically of his experience in the order as alienating, unhealthy, and destructive. He says he became alienated from himself in that despair and self-hate were the result of his poor perform-ance. He says he became alienated from others beause his daily decision making was inevitably based on trying to conform the world to his need for security. He says it alienated him from God, in that God was seen as master and man as slave, no matter how much official rhetoric denied it. Because of this threefold alienation he has rejected his former order as well as its religion completely. These cases illustrate a central problem of Christian spirituality today. What in truth is God's relationship to his creatures and how does man's behavior fit into this relationship? The gospels tell us of the depths of God's love but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. There are even dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us first faced this issue as children in the context of totalitarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Some still do not see the need to grow beyond it. For the many others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by threats and promises, the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from such control but rather what this freedom is for. Where do we go from here? Is the on!y option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to a series of petty misdemeanors? The answer to these questions may seem ob, vious to some, But they are not so obvious to the anguished people in the cases citedabove. In an age of anxiety and uncertainty it is the obvious that is most in need of exegesis. To illustrate the problem and answer these questions, let us contrast the results flowing from two models of Christian spirituality. We are not seek-ing proof but rather understanding. The evidence brought forth by modern scholars, not to mention the great spiritual masters, is simply too massive to be overlooked: in Christianity ethics is secondary to the central religious affirmation of God's gift of self to ]as in Christ Jesus, So our purpose is to~ understand the relationshiP between divine and human initiative and re-spon. se ~by spelling out the consequences that result from rightly and wrongly understanding ttiis relationship between God and man. Model A: Human Initiative and Divine Response This first model is familiar to all who can relate to the cases cited above. It makes Christianity first and foremost into an ethic. Here the primary source of our security as God's creatures is our performance which God awaits before deciding what attitude to take toward ~us. To rest our security 41111 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 before God on our performance is an easy mistake for us to make. After all, we judge others on the basis of their performance; our attitude toward our fellowman reflects our reaction to his performance. And we expect the same from others. In addition, the mistake is congenial to our American culture with its heavy stress on results and on efficiency. So if a person desires that God love him very much, then he will have to perform very well indeed. ~ What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone serious about his spiritual life will feel an urgent need to change his behavior, to move from insecurity to security before God, to avoid the wrath that is sure to come, and to advance along the path to perfection. Go to the spirituality section of your library and see how many tomes have the word, perfectio.n, in their titles. Acting on the desire to perform better, one of four things is likely to happen: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that the behavior which you had thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, now declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, insignificant and irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in the effort. In other words, convinced that your criteria are correct, you embark on a program of moral renewal and fail miserably. You simply cannot change. iv. Or you can try to change your poor performance, and succeed in that effort. Examples of the~e four possibilities come quickly to mind. i. You should be proud of it, not sad. In this approach one changes the moral evaluation of acts to diminish the burdens of guilt. The religious who complains of being unable to deal with the guilt she feels as a result of a brief but intense romantic affair is a prime candidate for this approach. She has performed poorly--by her own evaluation. But feeling the weight of this poor performance and the resulting negative attitude of her God, she may decide (in fact she may be mistakenly encouraged in this decision) upon further reading and reflection that her criterion has reversed itself: God would surely be very displeased if this affair were morally evil; but what if it is not? Was not her loving this man a most important awakening of her humanity as a woman, a maturing of her love psychologically and spirit-ually? Did it not relieve her loneliness, support her faltering ego, moderate her frustrations, and bring a refreshing experience of closeness? Is not God proud of her? Should she not also rejoice and be proud? With this change in criteria comes relief from the agonizing burden of guilt and a new attitude on the part of God. The main point here is that Model A sharply reduces the odds of making sound judgments about criteria for morality. Why? Because the central concern of this religious and others operating under Model A is not to discover the truth of the affair but rather to come to grips effectively with Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 41t9 the guilt and insecurity built into this situation by the model itself. What she is really doing is searching not for truth and genuine value but for a way to eliminate guilt and achieve good performance. The heart of Model A is manifest: "All is well because I perform well." She mistakenly assumes that the divine and human initiative and response are best understood by way of this model. Thus if there are authority figures who assertx andy are worthwhile~ this religious may be persuaded to accept what they say, not because it really is so, but because the security of good performance results from her acceptance of their words. It takes a certain degree of skill and desire for truth to sort out the opinions of various theologians on any topic. If you rummage through their opinions to find one that eliminates guilt, then you.may think you have found a bargain. But like most bargains you only get what you pay for. ii. You're worrying about the wrong things. In this second way of handling poor performance, one simply ceases to worry about a heretofore troublesome area of :morality. The young religious who complains about vacillation in his prayer life, his self-concept, and his relations with others is a prime candidate for this second approach. His problems are impatience, anger, jealousy, and revenge. Feeling the weight of his poor performance, and thus God's displeasure, he is strongly motivated by an urgent need to. stem his reversals and resume his advance along the path to perfection. Here too he can; after study and reflection, come to the conclusion that morality is not so much concerned with "keeping oneself unspotted by the world",as it is with "caring for widows and orphans." He can conclude that impatience and petty jealousy--and .even casual anger and a little re-venge- are pretty much morally indifferent especially in an age when there is so much social injustice in the world: racial prejudice, nuclear blackmail, grinding poverty, overpopulation, and pollution. This certainly makes him feel a lot better about himself. It improves his prayer life and his relationships with others. This is a tremendous benefit in anybody's book. But the point again is that Model A severely limits the chances for making correct moral judgments because its central focus is the intensely felt need to get rid of insecurity and unhappiness. Changing cri-teria can be sound and balanced, but it is seldom so if strongly motivated by the felt insecurity of poor performance in following Model A. For in this model, changing moral criteria can be basically a technique for dealing with guilt rather than the result of a successful search for truth. One of the "benefits" of living in a time when there is both an "old morality" and a "new morality" is that these first two ways of dealing with poor per-formance are more readily available and much more attractive. It's like a gigantic theological "sale." You can find a bargain or two without ever coming tO grips with why you are at the bargain counter in the first place. iii. The darkness of despair. The third way of dealing with poor per-formance is to try to change our behavior and fail miserably in that effort. 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 The cynical former religious who considers his experience in his order as alienating and destructive is but one tragic example. He simply could not change his behavior. So he then found himself facing an even more dis-pleased God than before. He was literally in a "hell of a mess." This route is a well-traveled one, worn smooth with the tears of depression, the fa-miliar terrors of the night, and the deep-seated angers of countless an-guished pilgrims. For many, sin-sickness now sets in, not infrequently leading some to the local psychiatrist. A more moderh version of sin-sickness is manifest in the ever increasing need for some to employ various forms of sensitivity training and make them into a way of life. The other option, chosen by the alienated former religious, is to reject altogether the religion of such a Tormentor-God in order to preserve one's mental health. If these are the only choicesmmental breakdown or rejection of religion--it is understandable why the latter would seem attractive. In these circum-stances, who would be so insensitive and cruel as to threaten such a person with the biblical consequences of an atheism he now embraces as a last resort? One certainly gains an insight into the problems of Model A by analyzing the despair one is led to under these circumstances. One cannot .turn to God. One is rather driven away from God who has become not the source of all security and all care but the very opposite. , iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. What are the problems that loom large for such a person as he strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? If such is the case a Model A person is sure to feel secure in the knowledge that God is pleased with him, loves him a great deal, and has a commensurate reward waiting for him in the life to come. Three problems, however, plague the success of a Model A Christian, problems built into the model itself: i. problems of self-righteousness and self-Sufficiency ii. problems of self-deception iii. problems with ongoing conversion. Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, I thank you that I am not like the rest of men. A man who has achieved considerable success in his priestly life may feel his consistently good performance to be a source of great security and happiness. But since his security is in his performance and not in God as a result of using this model, he ~pays a high price for it. He feels self-righteously superior to others; he looks down on them; he tends not to listen very much to their ideas (after all if they were so smart, why aren't they more successful?). This priest seldom, if ever, seeks spiritual advice and does not need a Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 491 spiritual director. He is self-sufficient. He is his own counselor--and con- ¯ sequently has a fool for a client. This priest sees no problems in living out his permanent commitment since he is particularly strong-willed and has highly developed coping techniques. He is convinced that all those who break their permanent commitments are simply weak-kneed and callow, lacking willpower. ii. Using the publican's words while praying the pharisee's prayer. Take the case of a highly successful religious who believes that his good performance really and trulyis due to God's grace. He does not merely ask God foi" good fortune while attaining virtue on his own. No, he says, it is God's grace~that makes him both want to perform well and actually do so. But, he says, God has given his grace indifferently and impartially to all, only to be fair, to give everyone a fighting chance. Life is for him much like a race in which God, as 'referee and judge, to be fair and impartial, gives everyone a fighting chance. So this religious could not have been successful without God's help, just as a football team cannot win the game if the referees are not fair. Yet now he has won so God owes him the promised reward. He is deceived by his success--not only about permanent com-mitment but also about success and failure, his own and others'. And h~ peddles his products to a ready-made market where they are in great de-mand. So by using the publican's words as packaging, he deceives himself and his customers into thinking they are buying something other than the pharisee's problems. ~ iii. If today you hear his voice, do not harden your heart. Take the case of a dynamic, n0-nonsense sister who has achieved considerable success as principal in an affluent parochial school. She has always been a winner ever since the novitiate days when she was singled' out as a future leader. She does.not tolerate--and neither does God--failure~in her own life nor in the teachers under her. On this tight ship they either produce or walk the plank. Success has long secured for her the status and acclaim that God and her public have in store for winners. She's got the world on the end of a string. Mother Teresa is scheduled to talk in town, and this principal out of curiosity makes a special effort to go and see for herself what this "living saint" has to offer. But she gets more than she bargained for. In a:totally unexpected flash of. insight she sees Mother Teresa surrounded by success yet seemingly oblivious to, and immune from, what are now clearly seen as its seductive effects. By comparison she suddenly experiences just for a moment the spiritual shabbiness of her own small love for God and his people. How was she to know? What must God think of her now? Thus does her long established but~tenuous security vanish in the intensity of the moment. What is she to do? Either she puts these thoughts out of her mind by explaining them away (something not too hard to do) or she will be thrown back into the insecurity before God which she has seen so often in others 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 and which, she thought, her complete success had vanquished. The former is clearly a much more attractive option. In other words the security of good performance is a very tenuous security indeed. It lasts only as long as good performance lasts. It finds immense difficulties in acknowledging the need for an ever deepening change of heart, an ever deepening realization of our sinfulness and our inability to love God more--the ongoing need for a Savior and Redeemer. Let us conclude with a brief look at the case of the retired religious who, having outlived her usefulness, noff finds herself increasingly isolated in lonely bitterness and resentment. She is suffering from an ailment prevalent in.Model A, a pathology which Rollo May once called "the divine right to be taken care of." When she wasstill young in the religious life she entered into a contract with God which read as follows: "I, Sister Alice, the party of the first part, agree that I shall always and forever permanently give up the following activities for my entire lifetime: worshipping other gods, taking the Lord's name in vain, dishonoring parents, killing, committing sexual sins, stealing, cheating, lying, and coveting. I further agree to relinquish my right to make moral judgments to God, the party of the second part, and his lawful representatives. And I, God, the party of the second part, in return for the faithful obedience of the party of the first part, do hereby grant Sister Alice the right to my special care; and I, God, do further promise that if she keeps her promise, I will reward the party of the first part with success and happiness." Well, Sister Alice, retired and shunted off to a corner of a rest home, is not as happy now as she thinks she should be. So, she feels, God has not kept his part of the contract. He has not honored her "divine right to be taken care of." What happens? Confusion, anger, and resentment take hold and spiritual collapse is near. "I was promised that I would always be taken care of if I were obedient. Look how obedient I have been all my life. So why am I not being taken care of?." Notice how different this is from the genuine Christian response: "Lord, I love you no matter what." Notice too thatthis kind of contract is also popular in the postconciliar Church. Only minor modifications are necessary. First, substitute the char-acteristics of love listed in 1 Co 13 for the Ten Commandments. Secondly, substitute the duty always to follow one's conscience for the duty always to obey religious superiors. The rest of the contract is the same, as aie the results. ~ For many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an under-standable reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only alternative is a model which whitewashes all activity no matter how morally atrocious by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical de- Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 493 mands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sen-timental love. They rightly see a gospel of sentimental love as doubly defective, unfaithful as it is to both the radical love of God and to his demands as well. Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-sponsible permissiveness that reduces sin to a series of petty misde-meanors? That is the question which.we shall directly address in the second part of this study. II. Case Studies in Confidence We have been looking at the gospels. They tell us of the depths of God's love for us but they are also filled with urgent moral demands. We even find their pages filled with dire threats and apocalyptic promises. How does all of this fit together? Many of us faced thi~ issue as children in the context of authoritarian religious control and puritanical restraints. Many still do not know how to grow beyond this context. For others who have already freed themselves from this rigid control of behavior by the threats and promises inherent in Model A (described graphically in Part I), the real issue is no longer how to achieve freedom from that totalitarian control but rather, what is this freedom for? What is this freedom grounded in and oriented towards? Where do we go from here? Is the only option an irre-spon, sible permissiveness that sentimentalizes God's love and reduces sin to inconsequential misdemeanors? Model B: Divine Initiative and Human Response So we will look at another model of moral performance. This one does not ground our security in our performance but rather in the Good News of God's self gift. A word of caution is in order here. As mentioned at the conclusion of Part I, for many people accustomed to living by Model A there is an understandable .reluctance to leave it behind. Although their behavior is rigidly controlled by threats and promises, they suspect that the only al-ternative is a model which whitewashes all activity, no matter how morally atrocious, by saying: it doesn't matter what you do because God loves you no matter what. They see Model A as at least remaining faithful to the radical demands of the gospel. And they suspect that the only alternative is to abandon these radical demands in favor of a watered down gospel of sentimental love. They rightly see such a gospel as doubly defective. It is unfaithful not only to the radical moral demands of the gospel but also to the radical nature of God's love as well. Unfortunately so many examples of people abandoning the radical demands of the gospel for a watered down version of the love ethic can be cited that these seem to be the only two options available---one even more defective than the other. Model B, as we shall call it, goes beyond these two options. It is a higher 494 / Review for Religious, Volume 37,~ 1978/4 viewpoint arrived at by way of a deeper understanding of the relationship between God and man. In this model one tries to be faithful to the truth of both the immediacy of God's care (his radicallove no matter what), and the immediacy of God's demands which flow from this divine love. Unlike Model A, this model does not make Christianity into just an ethic. It rather understands that Christianity is first and foremost an effec-tive affirmation of God's relationship with his creation: it is the revelation in Christ Jesus of God's own gift of se!f, his love--sacrificial love--no matter what. Unlike the sentimental love posture, this model takes God's love so seriously that there is an urgent, radical call to respond. It is out of this incredibly serious gift of God's own self that the radical demands of the gospel arise. These ethical demands are not radical because of threats and promises; they are. radical because God's gift of self is at the root of divine and human existence. Whatever threats and promises there are in this model, they are not controlling. They are not the kind of threats and promises found in a dictator-slave relationship as in Model A. They are rather the very special kinds of threats and promises that inevitably accompany any genuine movement toward self-absorption and toward self donation. These kinds of threats and promises are inherent in the kind of.relationship we call agapeic love. And the more intense the love, the more it penetrates to the depths of our being, the more it is both promising and threatening at the same time. This dizzying balance of joy and dread, fulfillment and anxiety has much to do with the fact that love is so exciting. The stirrings of this kind of love are the first stirrings of hope. So in Model B, a person listens to the Word of God and is moved genuinely to wonder what is so unheard of that it is proclaimed in such a startling style. One hears that God's attitude toward us is not grounded in our performance in such a way that God simply reacts to that performance. One wonders how that can be so, since we so often find it not so in our dealings with men. In fact a person comes to anticipate that others will treat him in a way that is a manifest reaction to how he treats them. If it is so that God's ways are not man's ways, then that would be good news indeed. He hears further that God initiates and does not simply react. God so cared about men that he sent his Son; his Son so cared about them that he gave his life for them. And having given his life he still so cared about them that he sent the Spirit who would flood their hearts with so deep a care that it would flow over into the lives of others. That man Jesus, who knewGod as "my father," loved his father "no matter what." And he knew that his father loved him "no matter what," simply because he was his son. The immediacy of his father's care that daily dawned on him in, ever different ways in the face of daily different experiences was an immense wellspring of security. It was not the security that is grounded in performance: "All is well because I perform well." Indeed he performed well and his father Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 495 rejoiced in that. No, it was a security grounded in the fact that he was simply his beloved son. It was not a security stemming from a senile,~ grandfather-like care toward an immature child who can do what he feels like doing without fear, without demands made on him. No, he understood that out of that care flowed the most urgent need to do the will of his father. It was not a security that Would immunize him from loneliness and terror. He found in the desert the courage to stand alone and not throw himself down ("God will bear you up!"). He had no contract resulting in "the divine right to be taken care of." What he had was the assurance of his father's care no matter what befell him. What he had was not the as-surance that there would be only success and acclaim--no numbness of defeat, no sorrow, no pain, no indifference, no enmity, no fears, no be-trayals, no rejection, no death. But rather the assurance that even in all of the~e there was at work his father's care which was strong enough, effective enough, loyal enough to be trusted. It was a security born of love--with all that this entails. So, too, you and I hear that our Father is radically in love with us; that he is our Father as well, one who loves his sons and daughters no matter what, simply because he has set his heart on us and spoken our names. He calls us to a human life so deep that it is somehow divine. A man wonders ¯ how this can be so. But he begins to realize how when it begins to dawn on him that he is himself falling radically in love with God. He will now have to throw away all old contracts with God and learn to get along without such. In Model B the source of security for the Christian is then in the first instance the immediacy of God's care~ Because this care is not plastic, there flows from i~ the immediacy of God's demands. It is all the more intense because our very being thirsts for the living God. "Our souls were made for thee, O God, and they will not rest until they rest in thee." Thus mankind, bent on denying its own meaning while it cries out for it, encounters its sole source and destiny in this divine sel(donation. Operating under this model the possibilities are twofold, as in Model A: either my performance is poor, by whatever standards, or it is good. Here too we shall examine each of the alternatives. What If Your Performance Is Poor? If such is the case, anyone' serious about his spiritual life will be moved to change his,behavior. But the motive will not be the conviction that I am not keeping my part of the contract. Nor again will the motive be the need to escape the loneliness and terror that poor performance brings in Model A. In Model B the proper formation of conscience begins with worship; the will of God is best seen in the work of God, our redemption. It is his will that we accept wholeheartedly 'his gift of sell his fidelity and love no matter what. Am I doing God's will? This is the first place where the question must 496 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 be answered. Am I accepting his redemptive .love, his steadfast and loyal love? Note here that even in Model B there is insecurity in poor performance. The insecurity even functions at the same primordial level as the security flowing from God's steadfast love. It functions within the controlling horizon of God's saving fidelity. So the insecurity found in Model B is of a different type than in Model A. It is not founded on the false premise that God values me only for my utility. It is not the insecurity flowing from the supposed conditional nature of God's self gift. So the realization in faith that God is faithful "no matter what" eliminates the root problem central to morality in Model A. In this redemptive relationship, poor performance is simply that, poor. Surely I am sorry; I have not cared enough. And the inability by myself to care enough turns me back to the source of all care. But the poor per-formance remains. What shall I do about it? Four possible choices come to mind: i. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that the behavior which you thought was morally evil is in reality very good. ii. You could change the criteria for good performance, declaring that this troublesome behavior is in reality neither good nor evil but rather of no moral consequence, irrelevant to the Christian moral life. iii. You can try to change the poor performance, and fail in that effort. iv. You can try to change your poor performance, and succeed. i) and ii) The search for the truth. Let us take some examples. A mid-dle- aged religious finds herself haunted by the specter of world famine. She feels so troubled by the miseries of mankind that she cannot even enjoy a fine steak-dinner. In fact she just returned from a home visit and could hardly sit through the family Christmas dinner where the table groaned under the sheer weight of the sumptuous repast. She felt guilty for having participated in such. In fact she feels guilty about being born in such a family and in such a country where the wealth is simply "loot stolen by an imperialist, racist society." She half believes that she is stealing food from the nomads in Sahel when she drives her car. She half believes that by eating steak (which costs twenty times as much protein to produce as we get from it) instead of soybeans she is directly taking food out of the hands of Bangladesh children. The main concern and principal need of this religious is to discover the truth of the matter and that is no small undertaking. But it is surely a different undertaking than the illusive search for security for a way to appease an angry God, so characteristic of Model A. Her search is for truth and genuine value rather than simply seeking a way to eliminate guilt. To do God's will, to love effectively is a movement toward what is truly good, and not just apparently such. So one searches for what is really true and truly worthwhile because one simply, and really, wants to know, no matter Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 497 what the other consequences. There is a terrible need to find out. Such a need for truth does not guarantee results. But it does improve the odds of making better judgments about what is right and wrong. This need for the truth provides an openness which is the beginning of a self-corrective process. There are many areas of our lives where our criteria for right and wrong need ongoing revision, and sometimes even radical reversal. There are many areas of our lives where, due to misunderstanding, values are de-valued and disvalues are valued. The misunderstanding is not merely due to lack of information or education but also due to lack of love. Sexuality comes quickly to mind as an area little understood. But it is not the only, nor even the principal arena for ongoing autobiographical revision of cri-teria for right or wrong. Self donation and self-absorption, authority, and autonomy, justice and charity are much more critical. Now moved by a deep hunger for the truth, one can still make mistakes in judgment, but the felt need to be open to the truth in whatever arena (lying, stealing, world hunger, sexual behavior, and so forth) tends to countercheck our biases which predetermine the results of our investigation. iii. Lord, to whom shall we go? The third way of dealing with poor performance is to try to change our behavior, and to fail miserably in that effort. Take the case of a priest who struggles with ambition for status and higher office, with an insatiable thirst for public honors and recognition--a problem common to conservative and liberal alike. He now sees that he has lived too much of his life bartering half-truths for favors, service for ac-colades, compromise for advancement. He gave too many people lies when they asked for truth and he half convinced himself that he was helping the Church by populating her with' scoundrels and liars. But of late he has been deeply troubled by questions such as those St. Thomas More put to Sir Richard Rich, a man who bartered perjury for the post of Attorney General of Wales: "For Wales? Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world . But for Wales!" Like Israel as seen through the eyes of the prophet Osee, this priest had through the years pursued the desires of his own heart. His life, like the history of Israel, was a sordid and shameful story of the betrayal of Yahweh's hesed, his steadfast love. And now, try as he might, he finds himself caught in the coils of a sinful history from which he cannot extricate himself. Is there any light in the midst of his terrible darkness? Is there any radical source of hope to vanquish despair, that frightful footsoldier quar-tered in his house? "Lord, to whom shall I go?" The answer is to turn to the Lord as the source of all care, all strength, all healing. So here failure can be acknowledged for what it is yet it is not conducive to despair. With Augustine we can still say: "Late have I loved thee, O Beauty, so ancient and so new!" Perhaps most people do not experience such a massive case of failure 491~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 as this priest. But there is no doubt whatsoever that most people do ex-perience pernicious and persistent failure in at least one or two special areas of their lives: pride and prejudice, lying and cheating, sexual infidelity and inordinate self-seeking. In all these cases failure does not force one to turn away from an angry God but rather toward God as the radical source of all healing and care. Failure does not make you search out magic rituals of the latest psychological variety nor of the more traditional kind. (Wouldn't that be a relief and wouldn't it allow us a better chance of judging and applying the techniques of modern psychology in a more appropriate and refreshing way?) Here one realizes that God really cares no matter what; that he seeks to break the chains of our bondage and to emancipate us for a new life; that he sets out to win our hearts: "Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. And there I will give her her vineyards, and make the valley of Achor a door of hope. And there she shall answer as in the days of her youth, as at the time when she came out of the land of Egypt" (Os 2:14-15). "Lord, you can do all things; you can make me whole." This is God's purifying love. Yet it is apparently far easier for many people to believe in a god who dislikes us than in one who loves us no matter what, who seeks to bring his creation and redemption to fruition within us. The latter is far harder to believe than the mystery of the Holy Trir~ity itself. For not a few people really dislike themselves, and so they shape God to their own image. Or at best they imagine God pounding his gavel and saying at the Last Judgment: "You people on the left, there, are going to hell. You people on the right, there, are going to heaven. And I am going out to lunch because I am sick and tired of the whole business."' God, the indifferent Judge, more ~nterested in lunch than in us! The New Testament .is good news indeed, most surprising to us in the midst of our failures. If it is lived, then there need be no convulsive efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of all care. iv. I have fought the good fight and won the race. The fourth way of ' dealing with our ~erformance is to try to change our behavior and succeed in that effort. How does such success function for a person who, calling God "Father," strives to live the Christian life? What If Your Performance Is Good? Now God rejoices in man's good performance. But the Christian's se-curity does not rest in any infallible guarantee of its c6ntinuance. In this situation there is a quiet joy and a considerable desire to share one's inner peace. But there is also fearand sometimes even trembling.Yet the fear is not a neurotic anxiety of a mere performance-relationship. Rather it is a healthy respect for the inconstancy ofourhearts, not God's. One is not sure of one's continued good performance, but only sure of G0d's healing care. Two Models of Christian Spirituality / 499 The problems that plague the success of a Christian operating out of Model A (problems built into the model) are transposed by the remedies inherent to Model B: i. problems of self-righteousness ii. problems of permanent commitment iii. problems of ongoing conversion Examples come quickly to mind. i. Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner. It is not for naught that the greatest saints proclaimed themselves very great sinners. Because the source of security and strength is God's care, there is less opportunity for self-righteousness, self-sufficiency and pharisaism to enter the picture. This is because the more one loves, the more one realizes the need of the beloved. The priest who has achieved considerable success in preaching and hearing confessions realizes that God uses the weak to heal the strong, the little ones of this world to confound the proud. He tends to listen to others because God speaks in strange ways and in unexpected places. He realizes that his greatest strength lies in his very weakness. He needs a spiritual director because self-deception is an old friend. As he goes through life he realizes that every stage of age. and wisdom and grace is accompanied by new and different temptations, all of them new and none of them quite expected, thus presenting ever fresh insights into our complete and radical dependence on God. The wisest man of all is one who at the end relies only on the mercy of God and in all honesty declares himself an unprofitable servant. ii) All I know of tomorrow is that Providence will rise before the sun. For those who mistakenly ground the feasibility of permanent commitment in man's fidelity and not God's, there are only two alternatives, both equally unenlightened and unattractive. Either permanent commitment be-comes no problem at all for me because I am particularly "strong willed" and have highly developed coping techniques. In this case I tend to view all those who do not keep their commitments to be, without ex~geption, weak-kneed and callow, somehow lacking willpower. Or permanent commitment becomes an agonizing problem to be resolved best by denying even the desirability of that kind of commitment since I could only commit myself if I were sure of my future performance. But given not only my track record but also everyone's potential for change, growth and development, then permanent commitment is risky at best and ludicrously dishonest at worst. In this case those who look down on lives of broken commitments are simple souls at best or rigid elitists at worst. For those however who ground permanent commitment in God's fidel-ity, these tortuous alternatives are unnecessary. A higher viewpoint opens up. I can commit myself permanently not because I am sure of my per-formance but because I am sure that, "with God, all things are possible." 5111~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This changes my whole set of expectations about the future. I expect growth and development as well as my own failures to radically affect my life--to bring unheard of dilemmas and opportunities. I'm not sure how I will react to these but I do know this about tomorrow, that Providence will rise before the sun. iii. Lord, the sea is so wide and my boat is so small. A person's good performance arising out of response to God's steadfast love often makes him experience again and anew how poor this good performance has been. This experience may make him realize his inability to love God more. Thus the need for ongoing conversion. Here again one is turned to the source and font of that care. If the source of security for the Christian is God's own self gift, then the dawning awareness of being a sinner can really be accepted without neu-rotic anxiety on one hand and without a "who-gives-a-damn" or even despair attitude on the other hand; without withdrawal from an evil world and yet with appreciation for moments of withdrawal; without convulsive efforts to achieve and yet with the most wholehearted efforts to achieve, efforts which first direct us back to the source and font of care. Then one might,find the courage to accept his shortcomings for what they are and, in the healthiest sense, strive mightily to move forward. The Christian has no need to become overly anxious about his d~epest instinctual drives which rise to the surface of his life in the forms of desires for self-aggrandizement or self-destruction. Instinctive impulses are not taboo. There is no need to live in Hesnard's I'univers morbide de lafaute. If it is true that God cares "no matter what," then the individual can recognize his instincts as both a possibility and an opportunity to be laid hold of. He can accept himself as he is--the beginning of inner freedom. He can deal with his anxieties as they arise because he is sure of God's care. And he is sure that this care is creative. Thus good performance becomes not the singular source of security but the fruit of security and a cause for rejoicing and gratitude. Perhaps he does not understand very well what performance is asked or required or called for. But he will begin where he is and do what he can, confident that some answers, however partial or tentative, will be forthcoming. So he listens, is attentive, is alert to them, is open. Once we are aware of the graciousness of God's concern, we become aware too that we will grow in further recognition of values. The choice between Model A and Model B is a clear one. Model B takes its stand with the New Testament. Where do you take yours? Community Living: Some Options Barbara Hazzard, S.N.J.M. Sister Barbara is the principa, l of Holy Spirit Elementary School in Fremont. She offers spiritual guidance and, for the past five years, has been directing retreats and has been on the summer staff of the Jesuit Retreat House, Los Altos. She resides at 3930 Parish Avenue; Fremont, CA 94536. " During the past few years, my concern about community life has become acute. Being a spiritual director and retreat guide for sisters of many dif-ferent communities has made me very aware of the problems which exist in community life today. The greatest problem seems to be the indifference or fear which members of a group have with regard to helping one another lead a deeply Christian life. There are all .kinds of things which can and do serve as anesthetics against this problem: overwork, socializing, formal religious exercises, meetings, professional commitments, family commit-ments, television--and time passes on, and the frustration grows. The following remarks are one person's perception of a need, and one way of dealing with that need. They arise out bf my faith in and hope for the future of religious life--in gratitude to the religious who have shared a similar faith and hope with me. An active, in opposition to contemplative, religious congregation is founded primarily to fulfill a need of the times; i.e., caring for the poor, caring for the sick, instructing the ignorant, and so forth. A religious con-gregation is a group of people who come together to live out the gospel with a certain emphasis on a particular facet of the gospel message. The under-lying purpose of coming together is twofold: to support and encourage one another in living a faith life, and to work together to proclaim the gospel to others. The first part, the support and encouragement of one another in 501 51~2 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 living a faith life, remains constant. It should become deeper and richer as the group grows in faith. The second part, the particular work of the group, is subject to change as the needs of the times shift. The concern here regards the first part of our purpose. Our pragmatic, materialistic culture has not left religious communities untouched. Most active congregations in the United States live on the level of the upper middle class. They do not want materially for much. This is not a reflection on individuals, but rather a reflection on the life-style and image which organized religious groups live and project in today's world--and on the need to look at that life-style and image. Does the nourishment of our faith-life in fact vivify our witness of the gospel, or are we a group of educated, efficient people running institutions with only a "flavor" of Christianity? Are the demands of the gospel too risky? Do we hide behind "prudence" and "practicality" as an excuse for not living our beliefs more radically? The values of Jesus seem contradictory to the values of some of his followers. He led a poor life, dependent on his Father and those around him. He was not identified with aspecific "cause" of his time, yet dealt with the problems at hand. Much of his ~problem" concerned organized religion and its ministers, those who were more concerned with the letter than with the spirit, who said one thing and did another. If Jesus were to walk this earth today, he would most likely have a similar experience. Jesus' only desire was to do whatever it was his Father wanted of him. He often sought time for prayer, alone and with his disciples, in order to know his Father's will. How often do .members of religious orders come together today in prayer specifically to know the Father's will for them, being open and ready to accept whatever that may be? There is always time for chapters, com-mittee meetings, renewal meetings, and more. Where is the time for cor-porate prayer? And how many would come if the time were provided? Is there a fear of the changes that might reveal "the Father's will"? The words uttered by so many religious today are phrases like: "I'm not surewhat we are about any more." "'I'm so tired most of.the time I can't pray.' . I feel as though I live in a boarding house. What kind of~:ommunity life do we have?" There are no simple answers. But such statements must be heard as symptoms of a condition which needs to be treated. What is necessary in order to begin the process? The primary condition is a willingness to change on the part of the individual religious, a will-ingness to say, "I am willing to try a different life-style or to adjust my life-style-- and to risk failure in trying--in order to improve the quality of my life." Time is needed, which means curtailing other commitments, to pray, to talk, to listen, to plan, not in the context of a chapter, but by coming together in small groups, for those who are willing. A clarification of val.ues is necessary. For some, the priority is the apostolate which feeds their Community Living: Some Options prayer, and their community life. For others, the priority is prayer which nourishes both community and apostolate. For still others, community life nurtures prayer and the apostolate. Certainly prayer, community life, and the apostolate are not separate entities. All three should flow together, but the emphasis will vary according to the movement of the Spirit within the ¯ person. Which emphasis? This is where, in honesty, individuals must recognize a need in them-selves and choose one of these emphases. This does not mean that only people who think alike should form local communities, but that those who live together should have a common value-base on which community life may build. The types of support needed by individuals vary. It does not have to be the same in every living situation, but it has to exist in some form in each local community if community life is going to be something more than a glorified sorority or fraternity. Pluralism seems to be the angle from which life in active communities is being re-thought. The above suggestion is a form of pluralism in life-style. Yes, this will create tension. But does not tension already exist in the living of religious life--a tension which is not always growth producing? Religious cannot use the excuse of "obedience" as a reason for what does or does not happen in a religious congregation. Each one is responsible for the quality of life within the community, and cannot let others bear the burden of that responsibility without himself becoming involved. This is a danger, especially in large, congregation.s. There are many discontented religious, discontented in the sense of looking for something more in religious life, a challenge, a way of life that is more meaningful. Just being identified with a large institution is not meaningful or necessarily religious in the sense of living and/or proclaiming the gospel message effectively. This is not to suggest a way of life that is inbred, but rather a means of nurturing the spiritual life in a way that will help to make the apostolate more joyful and perhaps more fruitful. It is a way of giving a support, encouragement, and real Christian freedom cen-tered on the gospel and a communal experience of helping each other to grow into the fullness which is Christ. 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 To initiate this process, two or three people who feel comfortable with one another might come together and, after some time taken for reflection, answer the following questions: 1) Why (have I come) am I still in religious life? 2) In which area have I channeled my energy (or let it be channeled) over the last 3, 5, 10, 15 years (prayer, community, apostolate)? 3) What experiences in religious life have freed me to be who God wants me to be--before him, with my confreres, in my apostolate? 4) What has impeded my ability to respond to what I feel the Spirit has asked of me? 5) If I am really honest, what ~teps do I need to take in order to align my life more closely with gospel values? Sharing one's thoughts and feelings about these questions, or others in a similar vein, will begin to help the individual to see the direction God is leading him or her in a communal effort to deepen one's living out of religious life. This paper has only made a small dent in the problem; but, hopefully, some who read it will be creative in finding other ways to begin to act. I would be grateful to have some practical suggestions, ways of im-plementing what. has been suggested in these pages. Perhaps there could follow an article incorporating these practical suggestions at a later date. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS HAS MOVED! As of June 19, the editorial office of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has relocated from its Grand Boulevard location to its new address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism Bede Thomas Mudge, O.H.C. Father Mudge is novice master for his Anglican community, the Order of the Holy Cross. He resides in Holy Cross Monastery; West Park, NY 12493. The Protestant Reformers of the sixteenth century embarked on what they considered to be a radical "renewal" process on behalf of the Church, a process which is not without some parallels to the renewal of contemporary Christianity. Before their energy had spent itself, the Reformers called into qupstion nearly every important institution of European Christianity, and demanded searching, justification, and often, change or abolition. Any institution or custom that was judged to be valueless or hurtful from the point of view of reformed theology was thoroughly rooted out. Among the casualties of this rooting-out were the religious commu-nities. The reasons for their abolition were usually stated in theological or social categories, the most frequently quoted being an abhorrence of cel-ibacy as "unnatural," and a dislike of any lifelong vow other than that of marriage. But there were other, not quite so noble reasons, as well. Many of the religious communitieg were conservative and anything but welcom-ing to the "New Theology," and so served as centers of resistance to the Reformation. In addition, the great wealth of some of them was a scandal to the Reformers, and a temptation to the keepers of government coffers. In every territory where the Reformers' theology gained ascendancy, an intense campaign was launched against the monasteries and conventg, in which the State usually lent its coercive power to the Reformers' fervor. In a remarkably short time, the communities were disbanded, their members 505 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 dispersed, and monasticism as an institution ceased to exist in the Re-formed churches) But, alone of the Reformation bodies, Anglicanism never rested easy with the absence of religious orders in its structure. Almost from the time when the Reformation struggle began to quiet, there were voices raised in defense of the reestablishment of religious communities in England, and various public and private proposals were made and discussed. In the seventeenth century an extraordinary community experiment was actually begun by Nicholas Ferrar at LittleGidding, which has exercised a great fascination for Anglicans ever since. Nicholas, together with his extended family, established a quasi-monastic community in which a form of Office was observed that involved the recitation of the entire Psalter twice each day, and a vigorous social apostolate was maintained in the neighborhood. The community did not survive Nicholas' death, however, and suspicion, and anti-Roman prejudice, made it necessary for the reestablishment of traditional monastic com.munities in Anglicanism to wait until the mid-nineteenth century. Even then, religious communities were not established easily or without trials. Persecution, slander and occasional imprisonment rewarded those who dared to import "Romish" doctrines.or institutions into the Church of England, and many of the early experiments in com-munity life had quietness and obscurity forced on them as the price of their survival. But some of the founders did persevere, and eventually their communities grew, and even prospered. In the century and a quarter that have.passed since the reestablishment of religious comriiunities in Anglicanism, these communities have spread and become an accepted part of the Anglican Church scene. Though not numerous nor particularly large by Roman Catholic standards, the Anglican communities have nevertheless been influential, particularly in matters re-lating to the ~piritual life and to social concern. Though it is still not unusual to find people, both outside and inside the Anglican Church, who are only vaguely aware that "there are Episcopal nuns," the communities have gradually gained~ the trust and affection of their Church at large, and are now welcomed and encouraged, whereas at their inception, rejection and persecution were more normal reactions.2 The Spirituality of Anglicanism Any discussion of spirituality in Anglican .religious communities must necessarily take place in the context of the general spirituality of Angli-tThe sixteenth century was, to be sure, a period of low ebb in community life. Very few of the dispersed religious chose to flee to a Catholic territory where they could continue their life. They appear mostly to have settled down quietly, often supported by a government pension, and often they marred. The Carthusian martyrs of London were as remarkable for the rarity of their example, as for their fervor. 2An excellent historical summary of this'period, and histories of the foundations of the various communities can be found in Peter Anson, The Call of the Cloister, SPCK, 1956. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 507 canism. But, in turn, it would not be possible to speak of Anglican spir-ituality without speaking of monasticism, because Anglican piety, depends heavily on the pre-Reformation monastic influence in England, and par-ticularly that of the Benedictine communities. It has been said that Ben-edictinism influenced English society to a greater extent than was true anywhere else in Europe. England was converted, in large part, by Ben-edictine monks. Its principal schools were operated byBenedictines, its cathedrals and principal churches were largely Benedictine foundations, and Benedictines were widely influential in the government. The Cistercian reform of Benedictinism was also influential in England, and its monasteries large and popular) The influence of the Benedictine tradition was part of the air that every medieval English person breathed. From one's earliest years, through education and into whatever station in life a person be-longed, the influence of the Abbey or Priory was never far away. And this influence was nowhere more pervasive than in the piety of the English people.4 The monastic offices and masses were commonly attended by the public; monastic spirituality was respected; and abbot and monk were part of the common scene, and likely to be respected or even beloved. Though definite Augustinian and Franciscan strains can be discerned in historic Anglican devotion, the example and influence of the Benedictine mon-astery, with its rhythm of divine office and eucharist, the tradition of learn-ing and the lectio divina, and the family relationship among abbot and community were determinative for much English life, and for the pattern of English devotion. This devotional pattern persevered through the spiritual and theological upheavals of the Reformation. The Book of Common Prayer, which was composed during the course of the Reformation, and has been the primary spiritual source-book for Anglicans ever since, continued the basic mo-nastic pattern of the eucharist and the divine office as the principal public forms of worship, and Anglicanism has been unique in this respect. Con-tinental Catholicism developed a devotional pattern centered around the eucharist, with extra-liturgical devotions such as the rosary and benediction filling the needs of most laymen. The office was, in most places, considered the business of the clergy and religious, and since, in its full canonical form, it could only be recited in Latin, it tended to disappear from popular use, except in some of the forms of a "Little Office." Protestantism developed, in most places, a worship pattern that included .very infrequent celebrations of the eucharist, as it was a Reformation principal that the eucharist should. not be celebrated unless the congregation received communion, and most aCudously enough, the purely English communities, such as the Gilbertines, while they did exist, never attained anything like the popularity of the communities which observed the Benedictine Rule. 4This influence of monastic spirituality on Anglican devotion is fully discussed in Martin Thornton, English Spirituality, SPCK, 1963. 5011 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 laymen of the time could not be persuaded to receive frequently. The worship pattern that developed was either a truncated form of the mass, as in Lutheranism, or a more informal worship service, retaining some ele-ments of the office, and supplemented by meetings for free prayer. In England alone it was the divine office that came to occupy a central de-votional position. This development was a direct carry-over from the days in which many people had attended celebrations of the office at the local abbey or priory, particularly Lauds and Vespers. But it owed much of its success to the liturgical genius of Thomas Cranmer, who in his compilation of the offices of Morning Prayer and Evensong produced what Louis Bouyer has referred to as "one of the purest forms of Christian common prayer to be found anywhere in the world."5 The devotion of Anglicans to the office has continued up to the present time. In some parish churches, though admittedly not all by any means, the office is recitedmorning and evening each day, as the Book of Common Prayer has traditionally re-quired. In some places, it is still the principal service of worship on Sun-days, and when groups of Anglicans gather, whether clergy or lay, whether for worship, business or social purposes, it is not unusual to begin the gathering with the recitation of Morning or Evening Prayer.6 The framework supplied by eucharist and office was supplemented, in Anglicanism, by an informal sort of lectio divina, characterized by a de-votion to the reading and pondering of the scriptures and other dex, otional material. When English editions of the Bible first began appearing in parish churches it was often necessary to chain them to the wall or lectern, to prevent people from stealing them for their own use. Later, when the spread of the printing press made the scriptures more available, there was also an extraordinary development of spiritual writing by men such as Jeremy Taylor and William Law, characterized by biblical and patristic inspiration and warm human feeling, and these works were widely circu-lated and read. There is also a deep current of devotion to the writings of the Church Fathers in Anglicanism.It is an Anglican maxim that Anglicans refer to the Fathers in the same way that Roman Catholics refer to the Pope, and Protestants to the Bible. A large proportion of English editions of patristic writings has historically been the work of Anglican editors. There has also been found in traditional Anglican piety, a distinct strain of "homeliness," as it is sometidaes called. A warm, tolerant, human de-votion based on loving persuasion, rather than fiery oratory is part of the Anglican temper. Historically, the Anglican clergy, being family men them-selves, have been very much part of the domestic scene in the villages and 5Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety, Notre Dame, 1955, p. 47. 6This is somewhat less common at the present, as under the influence of liturgical r~form, more frequent celebrations of the eucharist are being held, and often supplant the office. But it is worth noting that many Anglicans, including those most eager to center worship around the eucharist, are still uneasy at the loss of the office as a popular form of devotion. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 51)9 parishes where they served, and have often been loved as well as revered. The Anglican liturgical calendar has more commemorations of faithful pas-tors, such as George Herbert, than of fiery missionaries, and even Anglican martyrs have commonly been of gentle disposition. Anglicanism has always been more attracted by the image of the Church as family, rather than militia, and the similarity evoked to a community of monks, living as a family, under an abbot who leads them as a father, is far from accidental. There is little extravagance in the English temper, and Anglican de-votion is usually characterized by a basic simplicity and directness that shun~ much of the emotionalism and the devotional frills of post-Refor-mation continental piety. In this, the English temper ~naturaily joins hands with the emphasis on biblical centrality that was a chief Reformation prin-ciple~ There is devotion to the Blessed Sacrament and to the saints in Anglicanism, but it is most often drawn from a scriptural and patristic outlook, with an emphasis on simplicity and emotional understatement, and later devotions have had small appeal for Anglicans. Thus, the pattern of Anglican devotion which developed was a modified form of monastic piety; the celebration of the eucharist (though sometimes quite infrequently),7 the regular recitation of the Psalter and proclamation of the scriptures in the office, fleshed out by private pondering of the Bible, the Fathers and other devotional writings, usually of a sober and gentle style. The Restoration of Monasticism The founding of specifically monastic communities in the Church of England began in the middle of the nineteenth century, shortly after the commencement of the "Oxford Movement," whose proponents wished to restore elements of Catholic belief and worship to the Anglican Church. Several communities for women were founded in the 1850's and 1860's, after some faltering starts, and the first lasting community for men followed shortly thereafter. The first communities lived under the suspicious eyes of a public still steeped in anti:papalism, and so the beginnings were cautious and semi,private. Little publicity attended the foundings of the commu-nities, and the public stir raised by even a little publicity was considerable. Against this background, it is not surprising that the first communities went out of their way to justify their existence by a great devotion to works of charity. Social work with the poor, the operation of "penitentiaries" for wayward women, and nursing were favorite occupations, and among the nursing sisters that Florence Nightingale took with her in her famous mis-sion to the Crimea were several sisters of the newly-founded (Anglican) 71n the eighteenth century faith and devotion fell to a very low ebb, and it is related that there was no eucharist on Easter Day in St. Paul's Cathedral in London one year, because the Prayer Book requires that at least two or three members of the congregation receive communion, if there is to be a celebration, and that many communicants could not be found. 510 / Review for Religious,,Volume 37, 1978/4 Society of the Holy Trinity. The often heroic work accomplished by the first members of the communities in slums and with people in desperate con-ditions did much to allay suspicion, and to create an atmosphere of tol-erance for their existence, if not of actual devotion to them. But while the works of the early communities were important and needed, it was the spiritual and communal life which drew applicants, and in this atmosphere the basically monastic pattern of Anglican spirituality, which had survived three centuries after the Reformation, had its inevitable effect. No matter how active the apostolate of the community, thecor-porate recitation of a full form of the office was present in all of the com-munities from the very start,8as was the cultivation of a personal devotional life which was more characteristic of cloistered communities in Roman Catholicism. It is an unusual Anglican community which has not had as part of its tradition the singing of the office to the plainsong melodies, a good deal of corporate silence, and a tradition of the cultivation of an intense devotional life, based on scriptural and patristic sources. The traditional emphasis on monastic learning and writing also appeared, even in very active communities, and a sizeable number of works on prayer and spiritual direction have been produced, which is all the more remarkable considering the relatively small number of Anglican. religious. Nor is it unusual for Anglican laymen to expect that any member of any community will be able to speak about prayer and give spiritual direction. It should also be noted that, with no experience of monasticism closer than three hundred years, and with the traditional freedom of Anglicanism, some of the early experiments in the monastic life were distinctly unfor-tunate. Some were merely bizarre, such as in the excesses of Fr. Ignatius' Benedictines of Llanthony in Wales, .or the Benedictines of Caldey Island, who attempted to recreate a wildly romanticized version of a medieval abbey, but some were unwise in other ways. The combination of heavy and demanding work, coupled with the expectation of full participation in choir and in long hours of prayer with a sometimes rigorous asceticism taught several communities the lesson of moderation the hard way. But such mistakes were largely unavoidable. Few bishops would have anything to do with the developing communities, for fear of being labeled "Romanist," and the ecumenical movement was far in the future, so the only advice to be gained from Roman Catholic religious was: "convert!" Experienced guidance was simply unavailable. The lessons of the Desert Fathers and of medieval monasticism had to be learned again, by experiment, in nine-teenth century England. But in spite of mistakes and misjudgments, the monastic experiment in Anglicanism took root, prospered and spread. There are now a large num-ber of communities in England, and others in former English colonies, as SUsually an English translation of the Roman Breviary. Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism well oaS indigenous communities in Africa, the Far East and the South Pacific. !n the American Episcopal Church there are approximately twenty communities, about two-thirds of them for women. With time came not only numerical growth, but also a gradual acceptance by the mainstream of the Church, and with this acceptance a freedom to adopt usages and customs to taste. But whereas it might have been expected that this freedom would lead to a divergence of types of religious life, the pattern has, in fact, remained surprisingly consistent and true to traditional mo-nastic roots. Anglicanism has not, to this time at least, developed "active" com-munities, and the expressions of the religious life that presently attract the largest numbers in the Roman Catholic Church are completely absent from the Anglican scene. There arena few cloistered orders for men and for women, but the majority of the communities are classified as "mixed" in the traditional terminology. All have a tradition of a corporate Office, often an English translation of the Benedictine breviary, and the office is com-monly sung to plainsong where the numbers permit it.9 All have a deep commitment to the life of prayer, and have developed timetables and physical surroundings that enabled them to foster this prayer. A family style of government usually prevails, with a superior who is elected by all of the professed members, and a chapter that usually consists of all of the mem-bers of the community. This has been possible because of the small size of most of the communities. Anglican communities have never grown in num-bers beYond about four to five hundred, and the vast majority have had less than fifty professed at any one time. The family ethos has been carried over into the apostolate of the community, which has nearly always been carried out in a community context, and rarely by individuals outside the com-munity. But a wide latitude has usually been available inside the family context, with individuals often encouraged to develop their own talents and abilities. It may be objected that the absence of the figure of the abbot or abbess would make it difficult to classify a community as "Benedictine." Most Anglican communities do, in fact, have a regularly elected "superior," with a limited term of office, and not much of the mystique of abb, atial dignity. The Anglican. communities would, admittedly, need to be classified as a hybrid form of Benedictinism on this a~count. But it is also true that ~he size ¯ of most Anglican communities, together~ with their traditional family ethos, have conspired to make the superior much more of a "mother" or "father" than an executive. We can also note that a limited term of office is more and more characteristic even of abbots in the Roman Catholic communities 9It is sometimes surprising to Roman Catholics how few may be "required." If they have good voices (and sometimes if they don't) a house composed of three or four Anglican religious will sombtimes maintain a full sung office. 512 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 these days. The title of Anglican superiors has usually not been "abbot," but the reality is often not far removed from the traditional abba. The pattern of community life that has been described has had one development that came as a surprise to many of the early religious, and runs counter to the .historical development of western monasticism. The first religious in the west were contemplatives, with active communities de-veloping only later. In Anglicanism, the first communities were forced to be active in order to justify themselves, but always maintained as much touch with the monastic tradition as circumstances allowed. With such an im-petus, some of the religious quickly developed contemplative vocations, and the communities eventually responded by making room in their struc-ture for living ,such ,vocations, after suitable testing. More than this, several entire omr~nities have gradually been called to an exclusively contem-plative vo.cation after° a very active beginning. The Society of the Holy Trinity, ".the Sisters of the Precious Blood, and the Community of the Holy Cross, all .English women'.s communities, had very active beginnings, with demanding social apostolates, and all have given up most of their external works and become .contemplative communities. Side by side with this de-velopment, there have been several attempts through the yeffrs to establish traditionally "Benedictine" ,communities, properly so-called, and several of these attempts have been successful. There are, of course, exceptions to the pattern outlined, as for instance, the sizeable Society of St. Francis, and the Community of the Glorious Ascens!on, which is based on a model roughly similar to the Little Brothers of Jesus. But these are more recent developments, and have necessarily .bee6 ch~ aracterized by a certain self-.consciousness about their ethos, which has, served as a battlement against the tides that have swept most Anglican religious communities into a remark.ably similar pattern and style. Cow,temporary Renewal It is obvious from this analysis that the history of religious life in the ~.n.glican Church has several marked differences to that in the Roman C,a.tholic communion. Anglican com~.unities are of relatively recent date, .and many of them have older members who are within memory, or at least within one gbneration, of their foundin, g. Having often begun on an active pattern, the communities have grad~a,!!y developed a more traditionally monastic life, and this has been done as .the result of a consensus of the members 9f the community. The offiC.~'~ habit, times of silence and such, have been deliberately chosen, often against a background of some per- .secution. This necessarily means that'ii~e pattern of renewal in Anglican communities has been quite different from most Roman Catholic com-munities. Since Anglican communities are reasonab.ly close, historically, to the decisions that formed the pattern of their. !ife, and since these decisions Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 513 have usually been made by consensus of the community, there has been little reason to view the details of their lives as imposed by an outside authority. In addition, the religious orders have never been seen as a pri-mary source of personnel for social or missionary work. Anyone whose real calling is to a social ministry or a missionary vocation has always had many other options in the Anglican framework, and few people have entered the communities without some leaning, at least, toward monastic observances. This has caused the outward forms of .the recent renewal to appear con-servative by Roman Catholic standards. Though members of the men's communities have, on occasion, worn secular clothing for some years, all of them retain their habit at least for corporate worship and for formal occasions. Among the women's communities habits have usually been modified only slightly, if at all, and the number of women religious who regularly wear secular dress is very small. The office continues to be said by all communities, and if four offices a day rather than seven o~' eight is becoming a common pattern, they are often quite traditional in form, and continue to be sung to plainsong. A wider variety of work or ministry is often now available, but many of the traditional works continue, and some of the communities are moving, if anything, in a more contemplative di-rection. Anglican religious have, for the most part, deliberately chosen the observances of traditional monasticism, and are not eager to be rid of them. But it would be a mistake to assume, since renewal has not changed Anglican communities much externally, that their reform has been shallow. In many communities there has been a deep and searching process of change in the spirit that lay behind the observances. This has occurred, not surprisingly, in a direction dictated by the tradition that lies behind most Anglican communities. The. urge towards deeper and more authentic prayer has already been alluded to. There has also been a movement toward the deepening of the "family" ethos which has always been the ideal. Various structures of behavior, largely from the Victorian era (when many of our communities were founded) have been laid aside, and an emphasis on human relationships, the possibility of deep friendships, and an increasing emphasis on government by consensus have been common. Above all, there has been a struggle to advance the priority of the human element over legalistic requirement. In addition, Anglican communities have often been the centers of creative change in the liturgical field as well, and, while their experiments may seem somewhat conservative in comparison to similar situations in Roman Catholic communities, they have not infrequently been quite advanced by the standards of an ordinary Anglican or Episcopal parish. There has been at least one additional change in the past decades that is more difficult to chart or document, but it is of great importance to Anglican religious. A growing sense of'confidence in their own identity has gradually made itself felt. Born without parents, so to speak, Anglican 514 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 communities had to develop with little outside advice and no Anglican tradition to guide them, and all of this in an era when "doing it right" was very important. Anglican~ engaged in the founding of religious communities were surrounded by fellow Anglicans, on the one side, screaming "heresy," and by Roman Catholics, on the other, accusing them of being inauthentic imitations of no consequence; and the accusations were some-times, at least, half believed. This caused the adoption of many curious and sometimes inauthentic customs because "the Romans are doing it." But a century and a quarter of maturing, and the recent currents of change have brought relief from the concept that there was only one way to be correctly religious. A feeling of solidity and authenticity is beginning to pervade Anglican communities, where before there was some glancing over the shoulder to see if we were still doing it correctly. The history of religious communities in Anglicanism has been different from Roman Catholic com-munities; their problems have been different, and so the course of their renewal has been different, as will be their future form. Anglican com-munities have been called by God to serve a Church which is characterized by conservative liturgies, a deep sense of the awe and mystery of worship, and great freedom in doctrinal and social matters. The communities reflect this pattern, as they must, if they are to be authentic servants in the An-glican communion. "You're Benedictine, of course" Not infrequently these days, Anglican religious are invited to meetings of Roman Catholic religious, and often asked to describe their community. Normally the reply is that there is no exact counterpart to our life in the Roman Catholic Church, but that we have found our own expression of the religious life. But when asked to describe that expression in detail, it is interesting to note how often the reply is: "Oh, you're Benedictine, of course." Though only a few of our communities have sought to identify themselves as Benedictines or even tried consciously to imitate a Bene-dictine pattern, this reaction can hardly be a surprise. From their inception, Anglican communities have operated under the influence of a devotional pattern that took its'inspiration from Benedictine and Cistercian ab-beysmthe pattern of a family, deeply united by prayer and the liturgy, pondering the scriptures and other writings, and overflowing from its de-votional life in a gentle, caring ministry to those around them. It is a pattern that has been inherited fi:om a nation whose monks, scholars, teachers, historians, rulers, missionaries and martyrs were often either Benedictines themselves or under direct Benedictine influence, and the pattern has proved surprisingly stable, through the changes and reforms of several generations:' The pattern which Pope Gregory the Great hoped to plant in England when, in the seventh century, he sent. Augustine to Canterbury to convert the English people still perseveres, not only in England, but in large Monastic Spirituality in Anglicanism / 515 parts of the world. And this pattern, to which the name "Benedictine" is often given, has proved sturdy enough that it served as the model and guide for religious life when it was revived after three hundred years of absence in Anglicanism. Reeds The wind is voiceless until it finds an instrument: the long-drawn sough and sigh of conifers the maples" glee the oaks" deep diapason untutored symphony. I stood apart to hear them all together: acaccia sprinkled bells upon the air and chaliced elms' glad notes all spilling exultant as the skylark's trilling The beech clapped drily cadence keeping Only my song was still. The Spirit came in wind, then, (I had long known .the fire fed by the oils of my anointing) I listened there upon the hillside: "'Peace," said the wind upon me Peace unto all whom I meet "Peace," and the winds grew quiet "Peace! I am with you-- Know my peace." Mary R. Quinn 1201 Canton Ave. Baltimore, MD 21227 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today M. Corita Clarke, R.D.C. Sister Corita, a Sister of the Divine Compassion, is Chairperson of the Religious Studies Department of Preston High School. She resides at the school; 2780 Schurz Ave.; Bronx, NY ! 0465. ~nterest, concern, even fascination for the quest for a viable personal spirituality is as old as the history of primitive religions and as contem-porary as today's newspaper. To some persons the renewed interest in spirituality in this decade of the twentieth century seems an anachronism or a fad. Yet even a cursory study of the experience of people today, whether viewed through the eyes of the historian, the psychologist or the theologian, indicates that the phenomenon of such a renewal is a very natural devel-opment. Both an older generation which has survived the effects of worldwide wars, nuclear holocausts, genocide attempts and concentration camp realities, and a younger generation which has grown up in the more affluent yet tension-ridden, de-personalized milieu of the computerized world of technopolis, are responding to their deepest human yearnings in their search for a spiritual dimension to their lives. Centuries ago St. Augustine shared the insight that "God is always more." I think that the conviction born of human experience and the Judaeo-Christian revelation is that "so is man, always more," called to become, to grow, to move beyond wherever he is, to realize his human potential--also for intimacy with the divine! Spirituality is concerned with this search for the transcendent dimension to life both beyond and within the person, and with the mode of living which flows from its apprehension. We have the capacity ~to live a "spiritual" life because as human persons we possess an inner spirit which is the principle of our conscious life and 516 Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 517 the source of our integration as persons. Through this spirit we are capable of an intuition of the transcendent, of a reflective awareness of ourselves and of a depth dimension within ourselves, and are conscious of our ability for self-transcendence. In our Christian experience spirituality flows from an awareness of the Spirit of God within us, and our spiritual life is a lived response to this Spirit within, in an attempt to facilitate or mediate the further presence of that Spirit of God in the world. It is my conviction that the basis for a relevant Christian spirituality for today is to be found in a clear understanding of the quality of compassion. It will be within the scope of this paper to look at compassion from various angles in order to see the richness contained in this human virtue and to realize more clearly its relation to our experience of transcendence and our challenge to live our spirituality as compassionate persons. The Experience of Transcendence Any attempt to elaborate a contemporary spirituality comes up against the enduring tension between transcendence and immanence, between that which calls us beyond and that which cries out for recognition in the here and now. I would like first to strive for a greater clarity in our understanding of the category of the transcendent, and then proceed to an analysis of compassion as providing the key to reconciling these seeming antinomies. James Fowler has defined faith as "the knowing or construing by which persons apprehend themselves as related to the Transcendent.''~ For Fowler, the Transcendent is the ultimate condition of existence, the Being we have in religious faith called God, and a person's relationship to the Transcendent involves power, limitations, and the sources of value and meaning of existence. In the Judaeo-Christian religious tradition this has involved a personal relationship to a God whose presence has been ex-perienced by individuals and by the community. In addition to this specific religious terminology, the adjective transcendent and the noun transcen-dence have wide usage in a more secular sense. Abraham Maslow has given thirty five definitions or explanations of transcendence which can be sum-marized in his statement that transcendence."refers to the very highest and most inclusive or holistic levels of human consciousness, behaving and relating, as ends rather than as means, to oneself, to significant others, to human beings in general, to other species, to nature, and to the cosmos.''z And even here, in those who can experience such full humanness, those whom Maslow calls "transcenders," there is the "ability to perceive the ~James W. Fowler III, "Toward A Developmental Perspective on Faith," Religious Ed-ucation, LXIX (March-April, 1974), p. 207. ZAbraham Maslow, The Farther Reaches of Human Nature (New York, Viking Press, 1971), p. 275. 511~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 sacred within the secular, or the sacredness in all things at the same time, ,,3 Within this notion of transcendence are all those movements, experiences or realities which beckon persons on, which disturb complacency and call us beyond, which alert us to the "more" in human life and our own personal existence, which sociologist Peter Berger has called "hints" or "signals" of the Transcendent,4 and which are the source of~Augustine's "restless-ness" of heart. When the noun transcendence becomes converted to a verb, we have also the notion of self-transcendence, that movement of a person beyond self-interest or concern because of a focus on another~person, an ideal or a goal. In its richest manifestations, self-transcendence is an act of love, the highest form of human activity. Viktor Frankl has written that "Human existence is essentially self-transcendence not self-actualization,''s and contemporary psychology b~ars witness to this capacity for self-sacrifice as an essential norm of full human maturity. We will return to this aspect of self-transcendence in our treatment of compassion. When a person becomes aware of the transcendent dimension of life, and especially when that awareness leads to the Transcendent God, the result is, in the words of Abraham Heschel, awe. Awe is a sense for the transcendence, for the reference everywhere to mystery beyond all things. It enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of infiniti~ significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.6 For Heschel, faith is, as it is for Fowler, an attachment to the Trans-cendent, to the attractiveness of a God Who hides himself in mystery. Yet ¯ the biblical revelation tells us that beyond all mystery is meaning. "God is neither plain meaning nor just mystery. God is meaning that transcends mystery . meaning that speaks through mystery.''7 When the God who is, by the very nature of his being, Transcendent, attempts to speak through mystery and reaches out into the realm of human experience, we speak of tiis becoming immanent to us, to his creation. How does this mystery express itself?. Heschel says it is the destiny of human persons "to articulate what is concealed. The divine seeks to be disclosed in the human."s In our discussion of spirituality we have stated that our spirituality flows aIbid., p. 283. 4Peter L. Berger, A Rumor of Angels (New York, Doubleday, 1969). ~Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York, Washington Square Press, 1963), p. 175. 6Abraham J. Heschel, Who Is Man? (Stanford, California, Stanford University Press, 1969), p. 89. 71bid., p. 77. 6Ibid., p. 77. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 519 from our apprehension of the divine, of the Spirit within and 'without, and is our mode of living which attempts to incarnate the presence of God. It is precisely in this understanding of God which we discern from the biblical revelation, and in the consequent imperatives for our Christian life, that I believe an understanding of compassion plays such a central role. It is my conviction that the divine (the Transcendent) has revealed itself as com-passion, and that therefore the human discloses the divine through a spirituality that is founded on compassion. While subsequently I will de-lineate our experience and exercise of compassion as an expression of spirituality, I would like first to examine compassion as formative of our spirituality through an analysis of the divine compassion. Human com-passion and divine compassion are not dichotomies nor polarities, they are rather reciprocal concepts. There is only one real source of compassion and that is God's compassion. As Henri Nouwen has reminded us, "Our com-passion is nothing more or less than a participation in and a reflection of this divine compassion,''9 The Divine Compassion: The Bridge In his penetrating study, The Prophets,1° Abraham Heschel analyzes with depth and clarity the Old Testament revelation of the divine pathos, which he sees as the bridge between the transcendence and mystery of God and Israel's grasp of his love. For the Israelite, pathos is the expression of the attitude of attentive care and concern of God for his people. When Moses asked Yahweh his name, he received the reply, 'Yahweh, Yahweh, a God of tenderness and compassion" (Ex 34:5-6). In a recent issue of Spiritual Life, Kevin O'Shea suggests "that the divine nature is Com-passion, that God is to be defined by the heart of tenderness he has opened out tb us."11 This portrayal of Israel's God as a God of Pathos (the opposite - of apathy) is in sharp contrast to the gods of other nations of their t!me, who were distant (like the god of the philosophers), or impersonal, or presented as having human limitations such as jealousy and vindictiveness. The ex-pression of Yahweh's compassion was not mere feeling or emotion on the part of God, but was displayed in his active reaching out toward Israel--a God "in search of man.''~ The initial experience of Yahweh's concern was the covenant, which not only manifested God's mercy and great love, but also challenged Israel to grow as God's people through her response to his love. When Israel faltered or failed in her fidelity, the divine pathos re-vealed itself in anger and correction. In Heschel's words, God's "pathos is 9Henri Nouwen, "Compassion: The Core of Spiritual Leadership," Worship Jubilee (January, 1977), p. 21. 10Abraham Heschel, The Prophets (Vol. II) (New York, Harper & Row, 1975). nKevin O'Shea, C.SS.R., "Enigma and Tenderness," Spiritual Life, 21 (Spring, 1975), p. 18. 590 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 both a disclosure of his concern and a concealment of his power."12 The mission of the prophet in Israel was to articulate the nature and extent of the divine pathos, and to call the people to live the reality of their election. It was through his privileged insight into the experience of the pathos of God that the prophet developed his sympathy.(sym-pathos) for the concern of God. Seized by the power of this revelation, he was com-pelled to speak Yahweh's wrrd. Though his sympathy had as its source and focus the divine pathos, it was like that of Yahweh's, directed towards the people, the object of Yahweh's love. As Yahweh had identified himself with Israel (e.g., "My people," what was done to Israel was done to "Us"), so the prophet identified himself with the people, and each, from Moses to the last prophet, lived his vocation within the limitations and struggles of his time and history. God's involvement with Israel can be found on every page of the prophetic works. As with Jeremiah they experienced his word as a burning fire within, ~ind usually endured great personal suffering to deliver what was often an unpopular message. The hardheartedness of Israel is in sharp contrast to the loving relationship God was offering them: You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth and summoned from its far-off places, You whom I have called my servant whom I have chosen and will not cast off-- Fear not, I am with you; be not dismayed; I am your God. I will strengthen you, and help you, and uphold you with my right hand of justice (Is 41:9-10). In return, Yahweh asked a response of love; a love which when directed toward him would be fidelity and when shared with one another would flow out injustice. Micah encapsuled the covenant call in the beautiful text from 6:8: This is what Yahweh asks of you: to act justly to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God, The psalmist who sang over and over that Yahweh's compassion and mercy endure forever, the prophet who spoke for Yahweh, "with ever-lasting love I will have compassion on you, says the Lord, your Redeemer" (Is 54:8), and Abraham Heschel who insists that the biblical message is not an abstraction but the "certainty that the Creator is the Redeemer"~3--all point to a reality which can only be understood in its fullness by one who has come to know Jesus. The pathos of God gave its utmost expression of love and concern in the incarnation and redemption of Jesus. Jesus comes as compassion incarnate, ~2Heschel, The Prophets, Vol. II, p. 12. ~albid., p. 47. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 52"1 as the prophet who not only fully apprehended the divine pathos, but is himself its visible embodiment. "God in search of man" becomes man himself and bridges .the gulf between transcendent mystery and human experience. Jesus, like the prophetic types before him, embraces the reality and consequences of being truly human. As Paul records in the early Chris-tian hymn: He emptied himself and took the form of a slave being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediently accepting even death, death on a cross! (Ph 2:7-8). Against the background of old Testament prophecy, Jesus is presented in the New Testament as the Prophet, one caught up in the message he has received from the Father, as he reiterates frequently in the Johannine tradition. His life is a lived experience of the reality of his perception of the Father's love. God's concern and love are his own, and he lives the im-plications of his message to their ultimate consequences. Jesus expresses his mission in the vision of the Isaian prophecy: He has come for the poor, the captives,, the blind and the.downtrodden, to proclaim the good news of the Father's love'(Lk 4:18; Is 61:1-2). He teaches his followers how to love one another (Jn 14:34-5), to be compassionate as their Father is compassionate (Lk 6:36-38), and gives concrete examples in his parables: the forgiving father of the prodigal son (Lk 15:11-32), and the compassionate Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37). He chal-lenges them to the self-transcendence involved in taking up one's cross daily (Lk 9:23-25), and gives them the witness of his own loving response to all whom he encounters along the way. He eats with sinners, embraces little children, weeps over Jerusalem, and identifies with the feelings and needs of the sick, the bereaved, the hungry, the repentant. His ministry is one of healing, forgiving, challenging, and total self-giving, and he suffers and dies for the truth of his message. In the life-giving power of his death and resurrection, the compassion of God has its supreme expression. In contrast to Rudolph Bultmann, who sees the Cross of Jesus as a stumbling block of Christianity, a contemporary Anglican writer, Alistar Kee, sees it as the most meaningful challenge to the Church today in its role to embody the life of Jesus in our time. Kee opts for a reinterpretation of Christian theology which would focus on J~sus as "the way of trans-cendence, in contrast to the way of immanence which characterizes the lives of individuals.''14 He believes that Jesus' total self-transcendence in his acceptance of the cross provides persons today with a powerful example ~4Alistar Kee, The Way of Transcendence (England, Penguin, 1971), p. 159. 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 which is "a consistent option" for human life, and which in reality is the only road to fulfillment. A Theology of Compassion Among the New Testament writers, perhaps none has presented this centrality of the cross to the Christian message more clearly than St. Paul, who saw his vocation to "preach Christ crucified" (1 Co 1:23). The cross for Paul was the. basic paradox of Christianity, and I think his compre-hension of its meaning both in the life of Jesus and in his own life formed the foundation for his theology of compassion. Paul personally experienced the compassion of God in his call from Judaism to preach the gospel of Jesus. "I am the least of the apostles; in fact, because I persecuted the Church of God, I do not even deserve the name. But by God's favor I am what I am. This favor of his to me has not proved fruitless" (1 Co 15:9-10). In his missionary work and sufferings, he was aware of the Lord's constant support and love. His mission and his letters to the Corinthian church are among the clearest loci for elucidating his theology. It would take many pages to elaborate on Paul's experiences and his teaching, but perhaps a brief outline will be sufficient. Like the prophets before him, Paul was captured' by the Word of the Lord. He became aware of God's mercy and love for him, and desired to share this love and this message with others to whom he was sent. Preach-ing the gospel was often surrounded With sufferings of all kinds, yet Paul could testify: He comforts us in all our afflictions and thus enables us to comfort those who are in trouble with the same con-solation we have received from hiha. As we have shared much in the suffering of Christ, so through Christ do we share abundantly in his consolation (2 Co 1:4-5). Paul, like Jesus and the prophets before him, identified with the people to whom he ministered, and this identification was chiefly in their weakness and sinfulness, where the presence and power of God was most clearly evident. For Paul, this power of God was revealed uniquely in the death and resurrection of Jesus (1 Co 1:18~25). For the Ch.ristian, the death of Jesus has become the source of life--weakness has triumphed in God. Christ ". was crucified out of weakness, but he lives by the power of God. We too are weak in him, but we live with him by God's power in us" (2 Co 13:4). This conviction that it is in the experience of weakness that he meets the compassionate Lord, is also expressed by Paul in one of the rare glimpses he gives us into his personal prayer. After three times begging the Lord to remove a source of temptation, he received the response, "My Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 593 grace is enough for you, for in weakness, power reaches perfection." Paul concluded, "And so I willingly boast of my weakness instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me" (2 Co 12:9), ". for when I am .powerless it is then that I am strong" (12:10). The outgrowth of Paul's experience of God's love and grace is a powerful sense of gratitude. "We seem to have nothing, yet everything is ours" (2 Co 6:10). This sense of being gifted by God is the foundation not only of thankfulness to God, but also the basis for the kind of love for one another that Paul believed should characterize the Chris.tian community. Among all the Lord's gifts, none is as important as love, which is a gift of divine power. In Paul's famous description of Christian love in 1 Corinthians 13 we have the supreme challenge to respond to God's love. This agape which involves such geotleness, forbearance and selflessness can only come from one who has come to terms with his own weakness and his strengthening through God's love for him. It is the bond uniting the ¯ community and it results in a shared compassion: "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy" (1 Co 12:26). Compassion for Paul seems to involve first a participation in the death dimension of Jesus' life by experiencing his own finitude and limitation. Then through faith in Jesus and baptism 'into his death, Paul shares in the life-giving power of God, acting in him as it did in the resurrection of Jesus. To the Christians of Rome Paul sent the powerful reminder: Are you not aware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Through baptism into his death~ we were buried with him, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life (Rm 6:3-4). Speaking of his ministry Paul writes to the Corinthians: This treasure we possess in earthen vessels to make it clear that its sur-passing power comes from God and not from us. We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed; full of doubts, we never despair. We are persecuted but never abandoned; we are struck down but never destro.y. Con-tinually we carry about in our bodies the dying of Jesus, so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may be revealed. While we live we are constantly being delivered to death for Jesus" sake, so that the life of Jesus may be revealed in our mortal flesh (2 Co 4:7-11). 594 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/4 This experience of the divine compassion is in turn the source of Paul's love and understanding of others in their weakness, and of his urging them to share their love with one another. This mutual living in love is the strength of the community which fulfills Paul's exhortation to compas-sionate living: "Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep" (Rm 12:15). With the background of this brief survey of the pathos of God, the divine compassion revealed in Jesus, and Paul's experience and teaching of the centrality of the Paschal Mystery in Christian life, we possess a foundation for the thesis that Christian theology is essentially a theglogy of compas-sion. If the biblical revelation which underlies our Christian faith is of a Transcendent God who bridges the infinite gulf between himself and us by the reality of his divine pathos, then our challenge in contemporary Chris-tianity is to discover ourselves not only as recipients of his compassionate love, but also as called to incarnate that love in our world through living a spirituality of compassion. A Description of Compassion Before discussing some implications for spirituality based on compas-sion, I would like to refine our understanding of the attitude of compassion and consider some valuable insights from a variety of sources and disci-plines. The richness contained in this concept, and its essential role in human relationships can only be touched on in a paper such as this, but hopefully, it will open up further areas for reflection and development. In its Latin derivation compassion literally means "to suffer with" (compatior). We have seen in the scriptural usage that it always implies some form of identification with human suffering. When speaking of God's compassion, the term often used was "mercy," from the Latin, miseri-cordia. Mercy denotes tenderness of heart, felt and expressed toward an-other, but at times its usage implies an attitude of condescension expressed toward an offender or one suffering disfavor or misfortune. In this sense it is closer to pity. When mercy flows from a loving heart which recognizes and identifies with the feeling and experience of the other, and promotes an appropriate response, it is closer to compassion. For Thomas Aquinas, God's mercy was known by its effects, and flowed from his goodness and love: To sorrow over the misery of others belongs not to God; but it does most properly belong to him to dispel that misery, whatever be the defect we call by that name. Now defects are not removed except by the perfection of some kind of goodness: and the primary source of goodness is God.~ ~Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Vol. I (New York, Benziger, 1947), q. 21, a. 3. Compassion: A Spirituality for Today / 525 God's mercy, which has been called his supreme attribute, is never mere feeling, but always manifests itself in action. The New Testament abounds with examples of how Jesus, when moved with compassion, healed (the blind, the leper, the sick who approached him), forgave (the paralytic, the woman at Simon's house, the soldiers at the foot of the cross), or restored life (the widow's son, the brother of Martha and Mary). In an analogous way, human mercy is not measured by feeling but by concrete proofs, and when this expression of mercy flows from a sense of solidarity with the one who suffers, it is what we call compassion. As Rahner has written, "He who shows mercy receives more than he gives--the clear vision of his own emptiness which alone prevents him from losing the fullness he has re-ceived.''~ 6 Such an attitude preserves mercy from the taint of condescen-sion, and is a recognition of the Pauline theme that it is only in our aware-ness of our own weakness that we can experience God's power and be empowered to be a source of strength for others. The universality of this call to compassion can be seen by an awareness of its importance in many religious traditions in addition to the Judaeo- Christian revelation. A prime example of this is found in Buddhism where compassion is regarded as the highest virtue and is complementary to.the gift of wisdom. The Buddha had discovered the cosmic norm of truth through his attainment of wisdom (Pann6), and it was his primary desire to share this wisdom with those still enmeshed in the world of suffering. This compassion (Karuni~) was an outgrowth of his own contemplation, and hence, Buddha is designated a contemplative in action~ne whose self-enlightenment resulted in good for others. His compassion prevented his wisdom from being mere detached speculation, and his wisdom kept com-passion from being mere sentiment. Buddhism today (e.g., Mahay~tna Bud-dhism) continues this emphasis on the need to effect a liberation for men and women of our time. Because of our common destiny, compassion is viewed as the greatest reality. It is not achieved without great personal detachment, and thus involves the same renouncement and other-center-edness we have spoken of in connection with Jesus and the Christian's participation in the Paschal Myster